Now That You Mention It
Page 81
“You barely remember me, do you?” he said, and he was smiling. Flirting, even. “Too busy being in love with my brother.”
I put my free hand over my eyes. “I’d like to invoke my right to the fifth amendment. And I certainly do remember you.”
He laughed again, and it was such a turn-on, low and dirty, like he knew all my secrets. Which he probably did.
“Sometimes,” I said, tracing a finger along his cheek, “sometimes it takes a few years before you understand what you’re worth. And who’s worth your time.”
We were kissing again, lips and tongue, and his hand wandered down my side and back up. My fingers slid through his hair and down his neck, and he felt so good, so solid and warm and delicious. The sounds of the ocean, of kissing, of just the two of us blended together. I hoped Sully could hear. I hoped this would be one of the things he’d remember when his hearing left him completely.
I don’t know what time it was when we stopped. It had been a long time since I’d had a make-out session like that. Far too long.
“I told Audrey I’d be back tonight,” Sully said, dropping a kiss on my chin.
“Okay.” We just looked at each other for a minute. “I think you’re probably the best person I know, Sullivan Fletcher.”
“Does that mean we’re a thing?”
“Yes. We’re a thing.”
He grinned, and my heart tugged. Then he got off me (alas), started the engines, and underneath the majestic sky, he took me home.
27
On Wednesday, the clinic was slow. There seemed to be a feast-or-famine aspect to work here—we were either slammed, or we were twiddling our thumbs. So far my only patient had been a four-year-old hotel guest with a rash that was, I suspected, caused by a change in laundry detergent and not because he’d been stung by 999 invisible jellyfish, as he reported.
“That could be the cause,” I said somberly. “It’s unusual to find jellyfish in pools, especially the invisible kind. But if it is that, this cream will help.”
His mother smiled and thanked me, and I tousled the little guy’s hair, told him he was extremely brave and gave him a dolphin sticker. Another satisfied customer.
I went to the counter to fill out the forms. Gloria pretended I was invisible.
Okay, enough. “Gloria,” I said, “don’t you hate when two women have a really nice friendship going on, and then that friendship is ruined because of a guy?”
It took her five full seconds to look at me. “I’m sorry. I just happen to think that what you did to Robert was really horrible.”
“What did I do?”
“He was there for you when you went through this—” she made finger quotes “—‘bad time,’ and then you dumped him when he was the one who needed a little moral support.”
“Did he happen to tell you what my ‘bad time’ was?” I asked, also using finger quotes.
“No. He still respects your privacy. He said you were feeling insecure.”
“That’s one word for it. A man broke into my home, beat the shit out of me, tried to rape me and was going to kill me. With a knife.”
Her face drained of color, and her mouth fell open. It was satisfying.
“So yeah. I was probably a little needy after that. After I got out of the hospital. I was probably a little jumpy because they never caught him. As far as our breakup, that was all Bobby’s doing. Ask him about a coworker named Jabrielle.”
Gloria was frowning now. She started to bite a fingernail, then stopped.
“Here’s the last thing, Gloria. I’m glad not to be with Bobby anymore. I really am. I’m very happy these days. If you guys are having fun together, good for you. I honestly don’t care. But lose the bitchy attitude. Don’t be one of those women.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket, allowing me to exit on a high note. “Excuse me,” I said and walked to the lounge.
It was Audrey. “Hey,” she said. “Have you heard from Poe?”
“No. Isn’t she at the boatyard?”
“She was. She got a phone call, and she just flew outta here. She had her bike, and she was really upset.”
“Did she say who it was?”
“No. She just started crying and ran.” Audrey paused. “She was really, really upset.”
My free hand was clenched. “Okay, honey. If you see her or hear from her, let me know, okay? Thanks for calling.”
There was only one person who could have that effect on my Poe.
Lily.
I called my mom at the hotel, but Donna answered the phone. “She just went home, sweethaht,” she said. “Said she had to speak to Poe.”
My mother didn’t answer her cell. I called the house, but there was no answer.
Something bad had happened. Something with Lily. I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer to our father. Let her be okay. Watch over Poe.
Not that he’d been very good at watching over anyone.
I must’ve looked distressed because when I stuck my head in Amelia’s office, she said, “Oh, no. Are you all right?”
“I need to leave. Family emergency.”
“Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Amelia.” I ran out to my little car, glad it was raining and I hadn’t ridden my bike. I drove as fast as I dared, my heart thudding, my brain shutting the door against any of the big, horrible thoughts that banged on it.
I got to Mom’s in record time and ran inside. My mother sat at the kitchen table, a notebook and the big old phone next to her.
“It’s Lily,” she said without preamble. “There was a fight at the prison. She stabbed another inmate.”
“Oh, God.” I sank into the chair next to my mom. “Is she okay?”
“The other girl had to go to the hospital. Should be all right. But...” My mother tilted her head to look out the window, and it was a few seconds before she spoke again. Her voice was steady when she did. “Lily’s in solitary. The fight added years to her sentence. At least five, the lawyer said.”
I closed my eyes.
My sister would miss the rest of Poe’s fragile childhood. Would miss her first date, prom, college applications, turning eighteen, maybe turning twenty-one. She’d miss Poe getting her license, falling in love.
“What did you tell Poe?” I asked.
“I didn’t get a chance to talk to her,” Mom said. “The lawyer called her first. I tried her, but she’s not picking up.”
“Audrey Fletcher said she tore out of the boatyard, really upset.”
“Ayuh. I just got off the phone with Sullivan. I’m guessin’ she’s gonna try to get back to Seattle and see her mother.”
“Well, we live on an island, Mom. She can’t go far.” I took a deep breath. Thunder rolled across the sky. “Call Jake Ferriman and tell him not to take Poe anywhere.”
“Good idea.”
“Call the police, too. Just so they know. Have them alert the marina that a blue-haired girl might be trying to get a ride to Portland.”
“Smaht.” She gripped my hand. “Thanks, Nora. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’ll check my place, okay? Maybe Poe went there.” I tried to sound calm, but in reality, I was trying not to throw up.
Oh, Lily. You were so close to getting out. You had only a few more weeks! What the hell have you done?
I put my free hand over my eyes. “I’d like to invoke my right to the fifth amendment. And I certainly do remember you.”
He laughed again, and it was such a turn-on, low and dirty, like he knew all my secrets. Which he probably did.
“Sometimes,” I said, tracing a finger along his cheek, “sometimes it takes a few years before you understand what you’re worth. And who’s worth your time.”
We were kissing again, lips and tongue, and his hand wandered down my side and back up. My fingers slid through his hair and down his neck, and he felt so good, so solid and warm and delicious. The sounds of the ocean, of kissing, of just the two of us blended together. I hoped Sully could hear. I hoped this would be one of the things he’d remember when his hearing left him completely.
I don’t know what time it was when we stopped. It had been a long time since I’d had a make-out session like that. Far too long.
“I told Audrey I’d be back tonight,” Sully said, dropping a kiss on my chin.
“Okay.” We just looked at each other for a minute. “I think you’re probably the best person I know, Sullivan Fletcher.”
“Does that mean we’re a thing?”
“Yes. We’re a thing.”
He grinned, and my heart tugged. Then he got off me (alas), started the engines, and underneath the majestic sky, he took me home.
27
On Wednesday, the clinic was slow. There seemed to be a feast-or-famine aspect to work here—we were either slammed, or we were twiddling our thumbs. So far my only patient had been a four-year-old hotel guest with a rash that was, I suspected, caused by a change in laundry detergent and not because he’d been stung by 999 invisible jellyfish, as he reported.
“That could be the cause,” I said somberly. “It’s unusual to find jellyfish in pools, especially the invisible kind. But if it is that, this cream will help.”
His mother smiled and thanked me, and I tousled the little guy’s hair, told him he was extremely brave and gave him a dolphin sticker. Another satisfied customer.
I went to the counter to fill out the forms. Gloria pretended I was invisible.
Okay, enough. “Gloria,” I said, “don’t you hate when two women have a really nice friendship going on, and then that friendship is ruined because of a guy?”
It took her five full seconds to look at me. “I’m sorry. I just happen to think that what you did to Robert was really horrible.”
“What did I do?”
“He was there for you when you went through this—” she made finger quotes “—‘bad time,’ and then you dumped him when he was the one who needed a little moral support.”
“Did he happen to tell you what my ‘bad time’ was?” I asked, also using finger quotes.
“No. He still respects your privacy. He said you were feeling insecure.”
“That’s one word for it. A man broke into my home, beat the shit out of me, tried to rape me and was going to kill me. With a knife.”
Her face drained of color, and her mouth fell open. It was satisfying.
“So yeah. I was probably a little needy after that. After I got out of the hospital. I was probably a little jumpy because they never caught him. As far as our breakup, that was all Bobby’s doing. Ask him about a coworker named Jabrielle.”
Gloria was frowning now. She started to bite a fingernail, then stopped.
“Here’s the last thing, Gloria. I’m glad not to be with Bobby anymore. I really am. I’m very happy these days. If you guys are having fun together, good for you. I honestly don’t care. But lose the bitchy attitude. Don’t be one of those women.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket, allowing me to exit on a high note. “Excuse me,” I said and walked to the lounge.
It was Audrey. “Hey,” she said. “Have you heard from Poe?”
“No. Isn’t she at the boatyard?”
“She was. She got a phone call, and she just flew outta here. She had her bike, and she was really upset.”
“Did she say who it was?”
“No. She just started crying and ran.” Audrey paused. “She was really, really upset.”
My free hand was clenched. “Okay, honey. If you see her or hear from her, let me know, okay? Thanks for calling.”
There was only one person who could have that effect on my Poe.
Lily.
I called my mom at the hotel, but Donna answered the phone. “She just went home, sweethaht,” she said. “Said she had to speak to Poe.”
My mother didn’t answer her cell. I called the house, but there was no answer.
Something bad had happened. Something with Lily. I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer to our father. Let her be okay. Watch over Poe.
Not that he’d been very good at watching over anyone.
I must’ve looked distressed because when I stuck my head in Amelia’s office, she said, “Oh, no. Are you all right?”
“I need to leave. Family emergency.”
“Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Amelia.” I ran out to my little car, glad it was raining and I hadn’t ridden my bike. I drove as fast as I dared, my heart thudding, my brain shutting the door against any of the big, horrible thoughts that banged on it.
I got to Mom’s in record time and ran inside. My mother sat at the kitchen table, a notebook and the big old phone next to her.
“It’s Lily,” she said without preamble. “There was a fight at the prison. She stabbed another inmate.”
“Oh, God.” I sank into the chair next to my mom. “Is she okay?”
“The other girl had to go to the hospital. Should be all right. But...” My mother tilted her head to look out the window, and it was a few seconds before she spoke again. Her voice was steady when she did. “Lily’s in solitary. The fight added years to her sentence. At least five, the lawyer said.”
I closed my eyes.
My sister would miss the rest of Poe’s fragile childhood. Would miss her first date, prom, college applications, turning eighteen, maybe turning twenty-one. She’d miss Poe getting her license, falling in love.
“What did you tell Poe?” I asked.
“I didn’t get a chance to talk to her,” Mom said. “The lawyer called her first. I tried her, but she’s not picking up.”
“Audrey Fletcher said she tore out of the boatyard, really upset.”
“Ayuh. I just got off the phone with Sullivan. I’m guessin’ she’s gonna try to get back to Seattle and see her mother.”
“Well, we live on an island, Mom. She can’t go far.” I took a deep breath. Thunder rolled across the sky. “Call Jake Ferriman and tell him not to take Poe anywhere.”
“Good idea.”
“Call the police, too. Just so they know. Have them alert the marina that a blue-haired girl might be trying to get a ride to Portland.”
“Smaht.” She gripped my hand. “Thanks, Nora. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’ll check my place, okay? Maybe Poe went there.” I tried to sound calm, but in reality, I was trying not to throw up.
Oh, Lily. You were so close to getting out. You had only a few more weeks! What the hell have you done?
