“What street is the center on?” she found herself asking anyway.
“Canyon Road.”
Natalie nodded. She would go just to see the animals. She had to stop thinking about Nerdy. He wasn’t her type at all. Her type was much tougher-looking: facial hair that formed sharp, dangerous-looking angles, longer hair, tattoos. She tended to gravitate toward mercurial, dramatic Los Angeles types, although she didn’t know why. They were exciting for about five minutes, but ultimately they never worked out. And when they didn’t, they became unbelievably hard to shake.
“C’mere, Lily,” Olivia said from the couch. “Let me braid your hair. Are you done with breakfast?”
“Almost.” Lily scooped the remainder of her cereal into her mouth like a kitten.
Natalie rinsed the dishes while Lily scrambled onto the couch so Olivia could work two braids to her shoulders. Lily had on one of her EMT costumes from Halloween. She’d been a fireman, an ambulance driver, and then an EMT in rapid succession, and Olivia always let her wear the costumes to school if she wanted, as long as the school didn’t complain. Lily wasn’t allowed to bring her plastic fireman ax, of course, but she never whined about that.
Natalie smiled now and handed Lily her pink-rimmed glasses.
It would be relaxing to just hide here in Lavender Island for a bit with Olivia and Lily. She needed a vacation from her life, from her crappy apartment, from her go-nowhere jobs, from men. All her girlfriends were now getting married, making her feel as if they’d abandoned her, or abandoned their agreed-on mantra that they would be independent, successful career women first—at least well into their thirties. It was a mantra her mother had murmured into her ear when she was sixteen, and Natalie had carried the flag happily, moving from man to man, job to job, city to city. But now—with constant invites to wedding showers and friends “settling down” enough to not want to travel anymore—she was starting to reevaluate and question every decision she’d ever made. It would be nice to be on Lavender Island—away from all the advice, the voices, the opinions—and just be able to think for herself for a few months.
“I’m inviting Paige over tonight,” Olivia called over her shoulder.
“Paige is coming?”
“Yep, on the five o’clock ferry.”
“She didn’t give you one of her usual excuses?”
“Not this time. I told her you might need some cheering up.”
“Me? What makes you think I need cheering up?” Natalie couldn’t quite keep the irritation out of her voice.
“The ‘mancation’ and all—I thought there might be more to the story.”
Natalie sighed. There was. But she didn’t feel like going into it right now. Her sisters were always on her about the serial dating. Not to mention the terrible boyfriend choices and her inability to stay at one job. Although Natalie felt as though their mom encouraged “experimenting” and finding where you felt comfortable, she was the only one who’d taken it to an extreme. And, as nice as it was to be invited to live Olivia’s life for a while, she really didn’t feel like doing it if it meant coming under criticism.
“Well, I don’t need cheering up. You’re the one on bed rest. I think you’re projecting.”
Olivia laughed in her good-natured way and tugged on Lily’s braids to let her know she’d finished. “You might be right.”
“Either way, I’ll be here tonight to join you and Paige,” Natalie said. “Let’s get going, kiddo.” She reached for Lily and guided her into the back bedroom to get her shoes on.
In a half hour, Natalie and Lily were both out the door with an almost-forgotten library book, a Hello Kitty backpack, a pink-and-orange lunch box with a toy stethoscope in it, a construction-paper poster Lily had to turn in about flowers, a list of four things Olivia needed from the grocery store, and the address of the Brownie Scout meeting after school. They piled everything into Olivia’s golf cart—the only mode of transportation allowed on the island—and began bumping along one of the back roads toward the school.
“So can we go see the sea lions soon, Aunt Nattie?”
“Let me call and check on them first, okay?”
Natalie wanted to make sure all the pups had survived before bringing Lily by. Plus, she had to decide what to do about Nerdy Awkward Guy. Would he be there? Did he work there? She might have to do a little more research.
She was only two days into her mancation, after all. And thinking this much about a normal guy couldn’t be normal.
Natalie pulled into the dirt parking lot, her golf-cart tires popping over gravel. Leaning forward, she peered from under the brim of her fedora through the open windshield. Was this the right place?
She didn’t normally come down Canyon Road—these back areas had always been a little mysterious to her, even as a kid. Lavender Island was twenty miles long and eight miles across at its widest, but almost the entire population lived in the three-square-mile town shaped like a D that faced the harbor. The wealthier families lived in the coastal homes, plus in the hills that rose up along the curved part of the D, while the worker families and middle class lived in the center, in the C Street through G Street cottages. Although Natalie’s grandmother had some property up in the hills, she’d always made her main home on C Street, and the girls mostly stayed there when they visited. They knew all the shop owners on Main, which intersected the town and catered to tourists all summer. When she was small, Natalie had loved running to the candy shop, the ice-cream shop, and the toy shop that lay between E and F. Some of the original owners were still there.
But Canyon Road rose off the back of the town, leading up toward the island’s interior, which was sparsely populated. The only things back there were the Castle, which was a high-end hotel and bar; the island’s only airport, which was run by the odd Mason family; and three herds of free-roaming bison, which had been brought to the island in 1952 for a movie and never removed.
Natalie peered farther through her windshield, and—through a row of massive oak trees that bordered a tiny stream—she could see a small red barnlike building set well off a dirt road. She set the cart’s emergency brake and took a deep breath.
The April sun fell gently through the oaks, dappling the brick walkway with delicate shadows as she chose her steps up the uneven path in her high-heeled espadrilles. Natalie didn’t dress up much—today, in fact, she was just in cargo capris and a T-shirt with one of her beloved fedoras shading her eyes—but she loved wearing high sandals. The height, added to her already tall stature, always made her feel brave.
In the distance, she heard barks that sounded a bit like dogs but had a sharper, hoarser upswing on the end. Seals. Or sea lions. Dozens, it sounded like. She quickened her pace through a small wooden gate and came upon another walkway that led to a large brick courtyard with four fenced pools, shaded behind a tall stand of silver-leafed eucalyptus trees and a few palm trees. Before she got to the first fenced pool, a silver-haired woman in a half apron and bright-blue T-shirt with “I’m a Friend!” across the front came hustling over.
“Hellooooo!” the woman said in a cheerful soprano. “Are you here for the tour?”
“No, I’m just stopping by to see the three sea lion pups that were brought in last night—I found them in Diver’s Nook and wondered how they were doing.”
“Oh! We love when people follow up! Let me check on them for you. Don’t you look cute! Are you a model?”
Natalie shifted uncomfortably. Her modeling days were long over. “No. I—”
“Do you know who brought them in and what time?” The woman had already moved on.
Natalie breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Jim, I think. About seven p.m.”
“They might be in ICU. I’ll go check. Have a look around, and I’ll be right back. My name is Doris.” She pointed proudly at the name pin attached above the friend proclamation.
“Than
k you, Doris.”
“We have a tour coming in five minutes. You should join them. We take them all throughout the facility.” She cupped her hand near her mouth like a whisper. “You can slip in in the back.”
Natalie slid her hands into her cargo pockets. “I might.”
“And here.” Doris pulled a flyer out of her blue half apron and shoved it at Natalie. “Be sure to come to our Bars and Barks Event. It’s the last Saturday of every month, and it’s a fund-raiser for the sea lions.”
While Doris shuffled up one of the cement walks toward the barnlike building, Natalie read the flyer. Lavender Island sure had a lot of events—it seemed as if every weekend there were three or four charity events to choose from. The problem was, unless it was tourist season, they were mostly populated by senior citizens. Or sometimes thirtysomethings with small kids, like Olivia and Jon. Although Lavender Island might have been magical for her when she was a child, it just wasn’t a fun place to hang out as a single young adult.
She tucked the flyer into one of her pockets and followed the sound of barking sea lions to one of the four fenced pools, which had five two-hundred-pound animals swimming around inside, with two additional ones sunning themselves on the sidelines. They looked healthy and shiny brown, their wet coats glistening in the sun. One stretched his neck up toward the sunshine, wriggled it back and forth with seeming appreciation for the warmth, then slid back into the pool and dove out on the opposite side. He seemed to like that spot better and turned his whiskered face toward the sun again. He gave a contented bark.
In the next pool, five more sea lions, a little bigger than the last set, acted rowdier. Two were arguing over their position in the corner, while another three swam in circles together, then all leaped out the other side in a wet, blubbery slither. They barked at one another, as if to get out of the way, then finally settled on a comfortable dog pile, overlapping one another, to enjoy the dapples of sun.
The third pool had a different mammal—smaller, with lighter-brown bodies, more doglike faces, wrinkled furry necks, and larger eyes like puppies. Three of these creatures swam together and let off higher-sounding barks, leaping over one another in the water like a game of leapfrog before slithering out to the sidewalk for some sun.
“Those are baby fur seals,” came a deep voice behind her.
Natalie whirled. There, not twelve inches away, was none other than Nerdy Awkward Guy.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice was embarrassingly breathless. She had the brief, horrible thought that she’d somehow conjured him from the unthinkable number of times today she’d hoped to see him again, then remembered her mancation and hoped not to see him again.
“I work here.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see . . .” The words escaped her. Her hand fluttered in the direction of the buildings.
Men didn’t normally make her clam up. Especially intellectual-looking guys like this. Today he actually had a lab coat on. And glasses. Her usual guys had antiestablishment glowers, not curious expressions. And motorcycle jackets, not lab coats. Yet for some reason she couldn’t stop staring at this guy and his soulful eyes. He peered at her as if he were studying her under a microscope—not in the leering way most men did, but in an intense way, as though he were looking at the unicorn in his living room again.
“Did you come to see Larry, Curly, and Moe?” he asked gently.
“Larry, Curly, and Moe?”
“The rescuer usually gets to name them. I thought I’d go with something cheerful.”
She finally had to look away. She knew what to do with leers, with suggestive smirks, with half-lidded eyes that dropped to her breasts. She’d been enduring those since puberty. But this . . . she didn’t quite know what to do with what looked like sincere curiosity. Or such a kind, no-expectations smile.
“They’re in the back, if you want to see them,” he said. “They’re still in ICU. We usually don’t let visitors back there, but if you—”
“Dr. Sherman! Dr. Sherman!” Doris tottered through the courtyard, a deep look of concern on her face. “What are you doing down here? You don’t need to be out here. We’ll take care of the guests.” She grabbed his lab-coat sleeve and tugged him toward the walkway.
“It’s all right, Doris.” He slipped out of her handhold. “I know this guest.”
She looked at Natalie with a new sort of appreciation. “You didn’t say that. Well, I found the three patients you mentioned from last night,” she said, turning toward Natalie. “They’re still in ICU. We don’t let guests back there, though, but if you want to come back in about three days, they’ll probably be on their way to a great recovery.”
Behind Doris, Dr. Nerd dropped his gaze to the ground and seemed to bite back a smile. He glanced up at Natalie, his eyes begging her not to reveal that he’d just been inviting her to break the rules.
“Thanks, Doris,” he finally said.
“Or, you know . . .” Doris winked at Natalie. Her hand came up again to channel her whisper between girls. “Slip into the tour.”
Natalie suppressed a smile and nodded.
Doris headed up the path. Once she was out of earshot, Dr. Nerd slid her a glance. “Want to sneak around the back to see them?”
“Doesn’t Dr. Sherman get to do what he wants around here?”
“I’m just a visiting scientist. The lead vet is my friend Jim, and he runs a pretty tight ship around here. Elliott Sherman.” He held his hand out.
She shook it. “Natalie Grant.”
He frowned while he held her hand too long, as if perhaps he was concentrating on her name. “I like your hat,” he blurted.
“Thank you.”
When she finally wrestled her hand back, he cleared his throat.
A small silence welled. Natalie was normally good at filling these—usually with a smart-assed comment or inane observation—but for some reason, she didn’t want to take any chances with this man. She didn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing. Turning toward the pool, she gripped the fence, concentrating on the baby fur seals. Shifting her focus felt like a self-preservation tactic.
“Thanks for your rescue last night,” he finally said. “You really should have named the pups instead of me. Or your daughter should have named them.”
“She’s not my daughter.” She didn’t mean to look back at him, but she did.
He gave another of those thoughtful nods, seemingly waiting for her to fill in.
“Niece.”
The nod continued, became more thoughtful.
The nudge from her gut, or maybe her heart, told her to move away.
“Sherm?” Another lab-coated man shouted from the barn-building doorway.
Dr. Sherman turned.
“Seizure!” the man yelled.
Nerdy turned back to Natalie. “Domoic acid,” he mumbled.
“What?”
“Sorry. Nothing. I’ve . . .” He made a motion with his hands back toward the building but looked at her with entreaty.
“Yes! Go!” Natalie said. Seizure? Did sea lions have seizures?
“I’m sorry.” He seemed distraught. “Can we . . . ? Or can you . . . ? I know you want to see the sea lions you helped rescue.”
“No, go!” Natalie said.
He lingered for what seemed like too long, frowning at her, and then jogged up the walkway.
Natalie watched the perfect crease in his chinos that fell from beneath his lab coat, noted the natural step in his dress shoes as he jogged up the bricks, and knew she had never in her life been attracted to such things.
And yet here she was.
Attracted.
She frowned and turned back to the baby fur seals.
The feeling of self-preservation returned.
Elliott hustled up the steps and ran
a few curse words through his head at his stupidity.
I like your hat? Had he seriously just said that? That had to be about the lamest line in the universe.
At least he got her name. And found out the little girl wasn’t hers. And saw that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
But damn, what good did all that do? She looked like a supermodel, with that wide smile, perfect body, and all that shiny braided hair. And a smart supermodel at that, with those fierce brown eyes. She probably had guys hitting on her all the time. Cool guys. Guys with moves. Guys who said things that were a hell of a lot more clever than “I like your hat.”
He groaned and decided to banish that line from his memory forever. He’d never think about this incident again.
“Room two?” he asked Jim, who was waiting for him to pass through the big door.
“Yep. It’s Mr. Warbler. We thought it was the leptospirosis, but looks more like domoic acid poisoning.” Jim slammed the door behind them and lumbered after Elliott. “We might be back to ground zero. I was going to administer an injection but thought you might want to take a look at him first.”
He did. Jim was great about letting Elliott view everything as a scientist, which most centers didn’t. The results were inconsistent and confusing: Mr. Warbler had seemed as if he was suffering from leptospirosis, but now a seizure indicated domoic acid poisoning; the three pups that came in last night—Larry, Curly, and Moe—were not fluttering their flippers over their midsections in the manner expected of an animal with leptospirosis. They were exhibiting dehydration, similar to the frightening number of sea lion pups that had been washing up on California coasts since March. It was only April, and they were already showing record numbers.
The Kiss on Castle Road (A Lavender Island Novel) Page 3
