“This was the other night when you left?”
“Yes.”
Some of my anger and anxiety dissipated, as logic started to piece itself together. “The next day, when you didn’t go see Grady—are things okay?”
Back at the fingernails again. “Yeah. I was just—I don’t know. I felt kinda weird about it, I guess.” Oh, thank God. “So, can I sleep in here tonight?” she asked.
A smile tugged at a corner of my mouth and I got up to pick up the pencils so she wouldn’t see. If I appeared to enjoy it, she’d yank back the request.
“Because there are bugs in your room?”
She twisted a piece of hair and then tucked it behind her ear. “Possibly.”
“Well, that can’t be good.”
She climbed under the covers, taking a lack of a no for a yes.
MY cell chirped that I had a text message at precisely 11:48 p.m. I knew this because I’d seen that minute and every preceding one tick by since I’d turned off the lights.
I couldn’t get it out of my head. What the hell was going on with that picture? It was like I was there. I fumbled for my phone, marveling at who would be texting a psychotic freak like me at nearly midnight. Jason.
Are you asleep?
Really?
Yes, I typed. I’m sleep-texting.
What are you wearing?
I blinked and put the phone down, then chuckled and picked it back up. Sliding carefully out of bed, I moved to the chair and hit the call button.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Are you serious?”
His rumbling laugh sounded warm in my ear. It was comforting, familiar. Oddly so, for not knowing him that long.
“I always wanted to ask a woman that,” he said. “Thought I’d give it a whirl.”
“Well, keep on whirling.”
“Why are we talking so soft?” he asked, almost whispering himself.
“I have company in my bed tonight.”
“Really?”
I pulled my feet underneath me and snuggled into the chair, refusing to look in the direction of the computer. Even with the screen off and dark, it gave me the creeps.
“Yeah, my daughter thinks she loves me on occasion. She’s having a weak moment.”
“Do I need to let you go?”
“No, she sleeps like the dead.” Which I found ironic to say since the dead had never once slept or been quiet around me.
“So, were you were really awake, or did I wake you up?” he asked.
“I was counting the ceiling fan revolutions. And you?”
“I’ve been up and down eight times, and then tried to think of something good to fall asleep to, so I went to making out with you.”
Stomach flip. “And what I was wearing?”
“No—clothes weren’t in there.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah, so that really did nothing to help me get to sleep.”
I laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess not.”
“I keep remembering that my hands were on your ass today.”
Goose bumps trickled down my back. “I think there was even a boob hit-and-run at one point.”
“I was thinking that, too, but I didn’t know if that was real or just my embellishment.”
I giggled. “Your embellishment?”
“My play-by-play is always on a plane just above reality.”
“Well, our planes were flying together then.”
“I really am sorry about all that.”
“Mmm—not really. ’Fess up,” I said.
“My heart is. My body’s a heathen.”
I laughed out loud and then clapped a hand over my mouth. All this funny coming from Jason was something no one would expect.
“So, tomorrow,” I said, not a clue what I really meant by that.
“Tomorrow, my son is visiting.”
Boing! Whiplash. I was still on the kissing. “Really? How did that come about?”
I heard a deep sigh in the phone. “I texted him. Figured I might get a better response that way. Guess so, because his mom is dropping him by the shop tomorrow.”
Oh wow. Jason’s son. “That’s great! Are—you nervous?”
“Completely. And that’s so messed up. Nervous about seeing my own son.”
“It’ll be good. It’ll even out and feel normal again, you’ll see,” I said, trying to be helpful.
There was a pause. I got the feeling he wanted to say something but didn’t. “Well, guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes, you will, so go back to bed and quit thinking about my ass.”
I crammed a fist into my forehead. Really? I think he laughed and I think we said good-bye. I was wishing for a different mouth at the time.
The chair was squishy and comfortable and Riley had since spread out like an octopus across the queen-sized bed. So I curled up in somewhat of a fetal position in Alex’s—in the chair—and tried to close my eyes. My brain still wouldn’t shut down. My daughter’s reputation was at stake, my computer was haunted, my mother bailed on me, I felt like I was cheating on my dead best friend—who lied to me for decades—and evidently I had a boyfriend.
The really sad part was that the last one was the scariest. I could deal with the rest. Kinda.
THE next morning, I was surprised as I walked under the jingle to smell coffee. I raised my nose to see if it was a cruel joke.
“What’s this?”
Jason gave me a look and poured me a cup as I raised the counter. “Stepping outside my box.”
“Wow.” I added my generous helping of creamer and stirred as I noticed his restless feet. “What time does he get here?”
Both our heads turned toward the bell, which wasn’t supposed to ring yet.
“Now,” he said.
A dark-haired boy in jeans and sporting a camouflage backpack, and a woman with short brown hair stopped in the doorway. The boy ambled in looking around him, taking in the busy clutter.
“Hey, Dad,” he said, his arms flopping loose at his sides as he touched this and that.
“Hey, Connor.”
Jason raised the counter so the boy could come back, and Connor’s expression said that was pretty cool. The woman stayed rooted to her spot against the door, as if she might break some kind of treaty by stepping any closer. She was pretty, I noticed, and I was weirdly surprised by that. Why wouldn’t she be pretty? She had dark eyes but fair skin, and her hair flipped softly at the ends.
“Okay, Connor,” she said, getting the boy’s attention. “I’ll be back to get you day after tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he answered, already busy checking out a box of artificial worms.
I watched as Jason gave her a quickly mouthed thank-you. She halfheartedly flicked a hand and backed out the door before it could seal itself shut with her inside. I busied myself with my coffee, wincing at the strength of it—wow.
Jason’s phone sang at his hip, and he held up a finger as he was pulled into a conversation with what sounded like a supplier.
“Ever seen live bait?” I asked Connor.
He looked over at me as if I’d just appeared there and shrugged. Okay.
“Come on,” I said, walking down the hallway, hoping I wasn’t talking to myself.
I turned in time to see the facial reaction to the smell as he entered the bait room. That was a reward all in itself.
“Man!”
“Yeah, you get used to it.”
He was already moving from one vat to the other. “Cool, I’ve never seen live shrimp before. Like swimming around and everything. Look at their eyes.”
“Yep. Want to hold one?”
He looked back at me with something between horror and fascination. “For real?”
“For real.”
I retrieved the green net from its hook and scooped one out, holding it out for him as he gingerly picked it up with a finger and thumb. It squirmed around, unhappy with the sudden turn of events, and Connor laughed at all the legs an
d eyes moving at once. He looked so much like his dad when he laughed.
Jason walked back there and Connor grinned at him as he held up the shrimp. “People fish with these, huh?”
“Yep. Fish around here love them.”
“Can we go? Fishing?”
His eyes sparkled like a Christmas tree, and I saw Jason’s mind working, trying to pull that off.
“We can go tomorrow night, maybe—”
“Aw, come on, let’s go today.”
“Shop’s too busy for one person, bud, we have to wait till after—”
“Four,” I interrupted. Jason looked at me. “Take off at four, I’ve got it the last two.”
He tilted his head slightly in question. “You sure?”
“Positive.” I widened my eyes to make my point.
The back door swung open as Bob ambled in, his unshirted hairy torso already shiny with sweat and river water. I watched Connor’s mouth fall open at the sight of him.
“No bait runnin’ today,” Bob said, grinning and showing off all his gaps. “So top-feedin’ lures won’t be much good if anyone asks.”
“Okay,” I answered, as if I really knew what to do with that information. No top feeders. Check.
“Hey,” Bob said, nodding toward Connor. “You got yourself a helper today, Boss?”
Jason beamed and laid a hand on his shoulder, which Connor avoided by leaning out to put the shrimp back. The light shone a bit dimmer after that.
“My son, Connor.”
“Well, that ain’t no shocker there, he’s all you,” Bob said with a smoker’s laugh. He passed a lanky hand across his dirty jean shorts and stuck it out.
Poor Connor did his best to act unfazed and put his hand out as if he might not get it back.
“Bob. Nice to meetcha, Connor,” Bob said, pumping Connor’s hand till he pumped back. Making him a man. I bit my lip.
“Nice to meet you, too, sir.”
Bob guffawed. “Do I look like a sir to you?”
Connor laughed at that and his body went loose again.
“I’m just Bob, bud,” he said. “But I ’preciate that. Your daddy raised you right.”
Connor learned about unpacking boxes and putting away merchandise and how to wield a broom. Things I didn’t find particularly exciting but he seemed to enjoy. I noticed he was happy while piddling around the shop, even talking with his dad, unless Jason tried to show any affection or talk about anything too personal. Then he would shut down.
Four o’clock came, and they headed out on a boat Bob had gassed up and stocked with rods and bait and life jackets. Connor surely had to be rethinking it once he realized the intimacy of a few hours trapped alone with his dad, but when they walked out he didn’t show it. He was all boy, his nerves itching with the want to get in that boat.
JASON didn’t call that night. That was okay; I knew he was busy with his son. A text letting me know they made it back would have been nice, but it was okay. Really.
Riley and Grady hung out in the yard playing washers while Bo ran back and forth thinking they were throwing them for him. Dad sat on the front porch working his crossword puzzle till it was too dark and there was no plausible reason to stay. Alex didn’t come by, either. And I refused to turn the computer on. In fact, I didn’t even go to my room until it was time to collapse. I flopped on the couch and watched mindless TV until I could stand it no more.
The next morning, I walked into the shop as a purple wiggly whizzed by my head. I jerked a little to the left, and snatched the worm off the floor. Connor’s laughter filled the room.
“So close,” he said from behind the counter, perched on a stool.
“Too early,” I replied, sniffing the air. Damn. “Where’s your dad?”
Connor shrugged as I tossed the worm back into the box he held. He plucked it back out and stretched it. I chose to ignore it and headed to the coffeepot instead.
“Dad said you might come with us out on the boat today.”
I turned, empty carafe in hand. “Dad said what?”
He shrugged again. He needed to quit doing that.
“Connor.”
He finally turned to face me.
“Why am I coming?”
“I don’t know. He just said you might. Said you know some cool places.”
Ah. Tour guide. Gotcha. “We’ll see. How was the fishing yesterday?”
That woke him up. His eyes lit up as he dropped the worms and shifted on his stool to face me. “That was awesome! I caught a bunch of croakers, and since there wasn’t a size limit on them, we kept ’em. Dad said they’re good when you do something like a—fish boat or something?”
I smiled at that and went back to scooping coffee. “Yeah, you put it with peppers and onions and butter—and shrimp if you have any—and wrap it all up in foil and broil it.” I’d told Jason about that in passing one day, and he’d remembered it?
“Like a Boy Scout thing?”
“Kinda. Are you a Boy Scout?”
He shook his head and looked away. “Nah. But my friend Riley is. He’s shown me some stuff.”
“My daughter’s name is Riley.”
He gave me a scrunched-up look. “Riley is a boy’s name.”
I laughed. “Not if a girl is wearing it.”
His eyebrows raised a little as if to tell me that was really stupid, so I bit back the urge to tell him I knew a girl named Connor once.
“What else did y’all catch?”
“A flounder but we had to put it back, a bunch of catfish my dad said wasn’t the good kind—”
“Hardheads.”
“Yeah,” he said, pointing at the word. “And then when it started getting late he caught two specs. Keepers! I caught a spec, too, but it wasn’t big enough. Man, like just by an inch.”
“That’s really cool!” I didn’t even know Jason could fish. “Did you use live or artificial?”
“Just shrimp and minnows.”
“Well good, I’m glad you had a good time.”
“We’re gonna do the fish boat thing tonight after we get back, in case we get some more to add in.”
Fishing and dinner. Or was I only on the tour part of the evening? Part of me wished to be invited, and part not. It was way early to be introducing his son to anyone, especially with the tension already between them. And I didn’t know what I was to him yet. Not really.
I turned then as I heard steps behind me and looked into a face that didn’t know I was there yet. The things his eyes did when he saw me—kinda told me what I was to him. And made my knees wiggle.
He looked down at the steaming coffee in my hand as I stirred in the creamer. “Mmm, sorry, forgot about that today.”
“Heard about the big catch yesterday,” I said, trying to include Connor before he got weirded out.
Jason laughed. “Yeah, we did pretty well.”
The bell jingled and in strolled Jiminy. Introductions went around, Connor bragged about his fishing trip, and Jiminy kept glancing at me. I pretended to busy myself with pulling tide reports.
“We’re going again tonight,” Connor said.
“You should go with them, Dani,” Jiminy said with a shit-eating grin.
Jason paused. “Actually I was going to see if you wanted to,” he asked, his eyes questioning.
“Do you really know places to go?” Connor asked, looking doubtful.
I opened my mouth to answer all three of them, but then just smirked. “Jiminy knows more. And he has hats.”
Jiminy’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll throw in the hats. You can handle the rest.”
“As long as I drive,” Jason muttered, stepping just outside my reach to pop him.
“Well yeah, that, too,” Jiminy said, chuckling. “Basically, you’d just be going fishing.”
I shook my head. “Y’all are just too funny. Maybe I’ll just stay home and eat chocolate ice cream and let the guys hook the fish.”
“Or you could bring the ice cream and come eat the fish with us
?” Jason asked. And there it was. I looked at Connor and saw a flicker of disappointment fly through his eyes. The evening must have gone well; he wanted more private time.
“I tell you what,” I said finally. “I’ll go fishing, then leave the stinky bloody part to the men. Save me some of the fish boat, I’ve already got plans with Riley tonight.”
Which I didn’t, and Jason looked a little disappointed, but Connor looked happier, so all was good. Right?
I ended up bucketing the bait, since Bob was off somewhere in his golf cart. And I figured the rods were ready except for mine. I set myself up one with a weight and swivel, amazed that I still remembered how to do that. Jason looked amazed, too. He hovered nearby, watching me tie a hook on with my teeth and clip the excess line.
“What?”
“You never cease to surprise me.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, thank God Riley wasn’t a girly girl, because I wouldn’t have known what to do with a Barbie.”
The water was like a sheet of glass. No waves, thank God. But I knew the tide would be coming in soon off the pass, bringing a current and hopefully some fish. The boat was a nice one, the better of the four rentals we had through the shop. Bigger than my dad’s aluminum side console, that’s for sure, but not as nice as Jiminy’s or Hank’s boats.
I stashed my rod in one of the ports and took a seat on the side while Connor played king of the world at the front. I held on like it was a roller coaster and forced back the bile that rose in my throat. I was getting better. My skin wanted to crawl away, but I was in the damn boat so I was pretty proud.
“Sit down, Connor,” Jason said as we took off.
Yes, sit down. Please sit down.
Connor zipped and unzipped his life jacket absently as he lowered himself to what could just technically be called sitting. In a flash, an image of a child hurtling over the edge into monster waves and sideways rain tore across my brain, along with a scream that stopped my blood.
“He handles that wheel better than you would.”
I jolted toward the voice as my little old lady friend positioned herself across from me, trying gingerly to put her legs up longways on the bench as she held on to the rail handle.
I felt a fine sheen of nervous sweat break out. Shit, double hell. What was all that and why the hell was she back?
Reason Is You (9781101576151) Page 20
