“
talking to me?” someone said. Arthur turned around to find a young woman in a rain slicker, her blonde hair pulled into a taut ponytail, juggling a pink backpack, an orange tote bag, and a red umbrella. She had a square face and a wide mouth that were spared from looking masculine by her lively blue eyes and the bright makeup she wore. She smiled at Arthur tentatively. “Hello, young lady,” Arthur said. He gave her a half bow. Arthur had turned just forty-seven the previous spring, but he looked older because his hair had turned mostly gray a decade before, and deep emotions had carved lines on his face. Recently, he’d decided he was now old enough to refer to younger women as “young lady.” When he was a young man himself, he was always befuddled by what to call women. “Miss” and “Ma’am” seemed to offend more often than not, for reasons that confused Arthur. “Hey you” was always inappropriate. “Hi,” the young woman said. Arthur held out a hand. “I’m Father Blythe.” Inwardly, he cringed at the formality. He preferred being called by his first
”
”
Scott Cawthon (Bunny Call: An AFK Book (Five Nights at Freddy’s: Fazbear Frights #5))