Dina waves us to the table. “You’re worse than the boys!” She gives us a playful bonk on the back of our heads. “Go, eat your breakfast.”
I grin over. Even if I tried, I doubt disliking Dina would be possible. She treats Stephen and Nicholas more as her sons than employers. The one time Albert popped his head in (what I’m now considering) “our” kitchen hang-out, she treated him the same way.
We gobble down most of our omelets, before the boys wander in.
I examine Nicholas and snort-laugh into my hand.
He looks down at his clothes, then back up, “What?”
I try to hold it back, but fall onto the table laughing.
Linnie spins around in her chair, takes in Nicholas, then points at him, cracking up.
Nicholas glances around, bewilderment pinching his eyebrows, making us laugh harder.
Stephen claps his brother on the back. “Face it Nicholas, the girls think you look ridiculous in your running shorts.”
“No,” my objection is ruined by my new wave of giggles. “It’s just, you’re usually so formal.”
Nicholas picks up a piece of omelet with his hands and throws my breakfast at my face. “How’s that for formal?”
I wipe the egg off my cheek and give him one fleeting look, before I grab up the rest of my omelet.
Linnie throws her arms over her head, while Nicholas dodges out the door.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Dina yells, “Get out of my kitchen and act like adults. You are not some little children getting in fights.” She shoos a reluctant Linnie away from the table. “Out!”
We get out, fast.
“Now look what you did.” Nicholas bumps against me with his arm.
Indignation drops my jaw. “Me?”
“Well,” Stephen says, as he walks backwards, away from the house, “we might as well go.” He leads us through the gardens, across the grounds and to another door, central on their giant stone wall. A large wood plank secures the door. Nicholas crosses to the wall and flips open (what I thought was another cobblestone, but is) the cover to a scanner.
Nicholas pivots. “Why don’t we try your thumb-print, Raven?”
They had scanned my, Linnie and Chauncey’s prints into their security system. I rub my fingers together at my sides.
Linnie doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll do it!” Her thumb flattens on the panel.
Immediately, the board slides up and the door swings outward.
“Cool.” Linnie walks through.
We step into a large building with no roof. Stacks of lumber fill the entire space.
“What are these for?” I ask Stephen, as Linnie and Nicholas walk ahead.
Stephen traces a finger over one of the boards. “Reconstruction.” His gaze rests on mine for a second, then he picks up his pace.
I whisper, “You’re going to make this church enormous.”
The wood stacks tower fifteen feet into the weather-beaten ruin. From the quantity of lumber in the space, they could build a church skyscraper. We exit the thin shadowy pathway between woodpiles and out a stone doorway.
The guys and Linnie wait across a road by an open gate, when I turn from the church ruin. I skip to catch up.
“Is this your land, too?” Linnie asks, as we walk into a pasture with several grazing horses.
“No.” Nicholas closes the gate behind us.
Linnie and I hang back. She asks, “Are we trespassing?”
“Oh,” Stephen shrugs as he walks. “That’s not a problem here.”
Linnie and I glance at each other, but we follow. We walk through a few gates and pastures until we wander down a road, leading us to the rocky shoreline. As soon as we reach the expanse of boulders, Nicholas and Stephen hop away like goats. It takes a few minutes for Linnie and me to swallow our nervousness. After fifteen minutes, I catch up to Stephen; five minutes later I’ve left him in my dust; well, not literally.
The sea relaxes beside us, leaving her rocky shore to dry in the sun. A breeze kisses me with a light salty ocean scent. My continuous hopping beats a rhythmic tempo. I scout my next spot to step, two rocks ahead. Next rock, next flat spot, hop, hop, hop.
Without meaning to, I catch up with Nicholas and follow his path across the boulders.
“Whoopee!” Stephen calls out from somewhere far behind; I don’t dare break my concentration.
Nicholas calls back: a yodeling sound.
We pass an hour moving this way.
Nicholas stops and, before I can catch up, he rips off his backpack, shirt and shoes, and dives into the ocean. Although a large rock outcropping isolates the area Nicholas swims in from the open sea, the water still sloshes up the rocks.
I stop on a boulder’s edge. “How cold is the water?”
Nicholas says, “Warm.” He shivers. “Hot.”
I shake my head and turn around. Cool water splashes up my leg.
“If you don’t jump in, I’ll climb out and throw you in.” He swims forward, grinning.
I glance back; Linnie and Stephen are like hopping ants in the distance.
“Alright,” I grumble. “You’re letting me warm up on the rocks, afterward.”
I kick off my shorts and pull over my tank top, revealing my green bikini. I dive in. The water is not quite as cold as I feared.
A gooey-looking thing surfaces right next to me, and then they’re everywhere. “Jellyfish.” I shudder.
We both kick to stay above the surface, as the jellyfish circle us like underwater dancers in translucent gowns. They’re majestic, and not toxic. Nicholas told me that. Still, too many nature shows have ingrained jellyfish equal poison into me; I’m fighting to stay afloat in the middle of their deadly ballet.
I backstroke for the rocks; Nicholas cuts me off.
“Just wait a second; you’ll get use to them.” Nicholas gazes down, inches away. His leg bumps mine, as he glides closer. Blond hair sticks to his forehead in a halo; he’s intensely, undeniably, angelically beautiful. The cold darkens his pink, plump lips.
Before I can even figure out if I want him to, he leans in and kisses me. Slowly, his soft lips caress mine.
I yank back, as a sudden rush of liquid pours out of my nose, filling my mouth with the metallic taste of blood. My hands push off Nicholas’s chest and then, cover my face.
The first rule of swimming in the ocean where I come from: if you’re bleeding, get out of the water. I fight my way, knocking slimy bodies out of my path, desperately scurrying onto the rocks. "Come on, get out of the water," I gurgle, as I tilt my head up to the sky.
Nicholas’s hand touches my back. “Are you hurt?”
After I stanch the flow, I wipe the blood off my mouth. “Fine. I’m sorry.” I keep my head to the sky. “It’s my curse, the curse of the kiss.”
He laughs. “Sounds terrible.” He caresses my back.
“It is. When I was fourteen, Linnie dared me to kiss a boy and a bug flew into my eye. Before I left, my friend tried to kiss me and I got sick. And now today...” I wipe more blood from my face. “I’m cursed.”
His hand lifts from my skin. “So, you’ve never kissed anyone?”
Oops! I walked right into that one. I guess I have kissed someone, recently.
Stephen saves me with a yell: “Nicholas, what did you do to Raven?”
I call back, “Nosebleed.”
He and Linnie leap across the rocks to us. Stephen lights up a cigarette and slumps onto a rock.
I lower my head and Linnie examines me. “Nosebleed? Weird, I’ve never seen you have a nosebleed before. What happened?”
“Nothing,” I say. “Just started bleeding.”
Nicholas yanks on his shirt and shoes, then hops away. His movements are stiff and jerky, as he bounds down the shore.
Linnie stares after him. “Is he angry or something?”
“Maybe.” I shrug.
Stephen extracts a wet-nap hand towel from his backpack for me to wipe my face.
I bend down to tie my shoe
laces. “So are you two having a good time?” Happiness spills from both their smiles. I ask more to diffuse the strange, sudden tension.
“We got married,” Stephen announces, slinging an arm over Linnie’s shoulders. “But it didn’t work out, so now we’re divorcing. Our estates are being divided by our lawyers...”
“And the kids?” Linnie tilts up her head and glares.
“You may keep them. I get the dog.” Stephen tells me, “Divorce is a bitch.”
I open my mouth to play along, notice Nicholas, turning around, and I stay silent.
“Everything alright, brother?” Stephen asks, when Nicholas is a few boulders away.
“Yeah.” He sounds a little out of breath. “Raven, I’m sorry I got upset, I just realized something; it’s not your fault.”
I force a smile and return to my laces. What was that?
Linnie and Stephen keep bickering about their division of property, as we continue hopping. I slow my pace and hang back with the squabbling pair.
We climb over a big boulder and look into a cove, where several large driftwood towers twist up from the rocky shore.
“Fantastic,” Linnie whispers as she climbs up. We clamber down the rock with Stephen close behind and continue hopping to the structures.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair.” Linnie calls up to Nicholas, who leans over the top of a spiraling tower, fifty feet above. Driftwood logs weave and pile together to make several skeletal, lopsided spires across the little cove on the rocky shore.
Nicholas throws something down to Linnie; she jumps out of the way. She leans over. “This isn’t your hair, it’s a granola bar.”
Stephen climbs up after his brother.
I glance at my watch. The second hand ticks around. Twenty minutes to seven, Friday. My thoughts wander to a restaurant in Hoganas…
“Do you have somewhere you need to be?” Linnie asks.
My gaze tears from my watch. “Definitely not,” my voice is more emphatic than I intend.
She gives me a ‘what’s up with you?’ look.
I giggle, why do I sound so crazed? I say, “I’m just hungry.”
She shakes her head and hands me the granola bar, before running to a tower. We climb around like squirrels until we’re too famished to continue. Clambering up one of the wood pathways leads us to a trail away from the beach. Nicholas and I perch on a stone wall to retrieve our dinner from his backpack. Linnie and Stephen lag behind somewhere.
Not a trace of anger lingers in Nicholas’s easy smile. His outburst must have had nothing to do with me.
I say, “So, what does working in ‘security’ entail?”
With concentration, he brings food out and places wrapped bundles on the mossy wall. “For Stephen and me, long hours and constant traveling. For Albert and Tobias, just the long hours.”
“Yeah, I was wondering about that, how come Albert and Tobias work all the time but you and Stephen can run around with us?”
“Our job,” he says glancing over, “has perks that Tobias and Albert’s doesn’t.”
“Why did they choose their jobs, if they don’t get time off?”
“They didn’t.” He offers me a sandwich. “Tobias would have anyway: he loves what he does. But my grandfather ordered Albert to do his job, against his wishes; he’d rather do my or Stephen’s work, that’s what he used to do.”
“Why doesn’t he?” I bite into my sandwich. The lettuce isn’t crispy, but my dinner still tastes delicious.
He uncaps a bottle of water and takes a sip. “When my father died, I was too young to do his job. And Stephen was the best at what he does, so Albert got a promotion, against his wishes.”
“Stephen was the best?”
“He still is. Well...” he shifts his head from side to side. “The best besides my grandfather, in his day.”
“You’re too kind, little brother,” Stephen says, as he and Linnie emerge from the trail. “So did you tell Raven about the invitation yet?”
Nicholas turns, “No, I was about to. You ladies are invited to a party next week on Saturday.”
I swallow my bite, “A party?”
“Yes, a friend of the family throws a big party every summer. I was hoping you would be my date.”
“I want to go!” Linnie squeals.
Stephen exhales loudly. “I guess I’ll be stuck with my ex-wife as a date.”
Linnie’s smile swallows half her face; she bounces from foot to foot. “This is perfect. Chauncey loves parties; she always tells me about the fabulous ones she attends back home. This is exactly what she needs!”
I peer down at my watch, fifty-six minutes past seven. I wonder if Andras...No, I refuse to finish that thought. I refuse to entertain any thoughts about him.
I look up.
Linnie and Nicholas stare over, expectantly. Did they ask me something?
I bite and let my lower lip slip from my teeth. A bash, why not? “Sure, I’ll go.”
Chapter Twelve
Day Sixteen and Seventeen
“I told you I should have called a car,” Chauncey whispers loudly to Linnie.
Next to their Rolls Royce, Albert and Nicholas yell at each other in Swedish, as Stephen stands back, smoking. As far as I can guess, Albert is insisting on accompanying us to Copenhagen, and Nicholas doesn’t want him to go. I’m not exactly sure what Stephen has to do with the fight. Albert repeatedly shoots him sidelong glances and then widens his eyelids at Nicholas, which probably means he doesn’t want Stephen along. Or maybe, I just read too much into their body language and they’re fighting about something completely different.
“We’re missing precious hours of shopping time,” Chauncey whines.
I’m pretty sure Chauncey has more than one dress fancy enough for the party. She must realize this, too, because she adds, with a nod my way, “You don’t want your girlfriend to wear the same outfit to the party that she’s worn all trip, do you?”
Linnie glares at Chauncey, and looks as if she might say something, but when Chauncey starts waving her hands Linnie’s look turns quizzical.
"Hey," Chauncey calls to a short guy who's loading up the car, "Hey, come here."
The guy, who is probably a couple of years older than we are, turns to Chauncey, with a look, close to worship, on his acne-scarred face.
She smiles at him, asking, in a sultry voice, "Do you speak English?" When he nods, she continues, "If you tell us what those two are saying, I'll give you a kiss.”
The guy looks back and forth between the argument and Chauncey, breathes in a long breath, and then steps closer to us.
He whispers, “Mr. Albert is saying…" He pauses, and then translates haltingly, “What makes you think she’s any different?'
“Then, Mr. Nicholas says, 'This time is different. Who do you think you are? I don’t need your approval.'
“Then, Mr. Albert, 'If you continue in this way, you’re just going to get your heart broken. If you have any intelligence left, you’ll listen to grandfather’s orders and find someone else. I am trying to help you, little brother; you are deluding yourself.'" The guy translating still stares intently at Chauncey, but Chanucey’s (and Linnie's) attention has shifted to fix on me.
The guy continues to translate, “Mr. Nicholas, now, 'No, you’re the deluded one. You should look at yourself, hiding your...'
“Now, Mr. Albert interrupts him, 'You said you would never speak of that here..." The guy trails off, looking around at us. His expression reveals that he is just now realizing the personal nature of the conversation that he was translating.
We had heard enough; I had heard enough.
I step away from the car, too repulsed to watch Chauncey give that random guy his ‘payment’. I call out, “If it’s a question of room...” After hearing their conversation, I’m pretty sure there is no ‘question of room,’ but I’d rather ride in a car with a rabid raccoon than the Chauncey-Albert ‘Hate Raven’ team.
Nicholas turns and stares a
t me, as if I just popped out of the ground… as if they’d hadn’t been shouting about me in front of half the mansion. “Uh,” Nicholas clears his throat, “It’s a question of Stephen and I having an assignment in Copenhagen, and Albert insisting on intruding, rather than driving his own vehicle,” Nicholas says, not taking his narrowed-eyed glower off Albert.
“Look ...” I step back away from the Rolls Royce, in the direction of the guest house. “I haven’t gotten a chance to drive the Vespa I won rights to. Why don’t you five take the car and I’ll meet you in Copenhagen?”
Nicholas steps toward me and says, “There’s room for two on the scooter, I could ...”
Albert silences Nicholas with a glare that could level a building. He barks, “Stephen should go with her.” If I needed any more confirmation that I was the vixen Albert was warning Nicholas about, his stare and comment supplied it.
My gaze tears away from Albert and I shake my head. “That’s okay; I don’t want either of you to be late for your assignment. I won’t get lost, I have an excellent sense of direction and I’ll ask Stewart to draw me a map.”
Nicholas takes another step. “I’d rather –”
“No, it’s better this way. You two have an assignment to get to and Albert has something he has to do. If I’m late, my money is in Linnie’s account and she knows what I like. And besides, I like spending time alone.” I give Linnie a ‘please back me up’ widening of my eyes.
“She’s right.” Linnie nods, then glares at Albert. “She should meet us there, and we should go.”
Nicholas pinches his eyebrows together. “Do you know how to drive the scooter?”
“Of course,” I lie.
Nicholas opens his mouth, as Stephen steps forward, cutting him off: “Here, Raven...” and tosses something I catch. “You take my phone. Hold down the six button for Nicholas.” Stephen pats Nicholas’s shoulder, saying, “She’ll call if she needs us.” With a wink and a wave, Stephen ducks into the passenger seat.
Linnie bounds over to give me a hug. She whispers in my ear, “Screw Albert, he can kiss my butt.”
“Yeah,” I say, “mine too, big jerk.”
The Deception Dance Page 12
