When I caught Dani spinning a pair of aqua glass earrings, watching the way the sun made them look like they were made of blue fire as it poured in the shop's windows, I offered to buy them for her, but she refused. She thanked me politely, but claimed she didn't need them. But if I knew one thing about women, it was they often bought things they didn't need. I had discovered over the past days, Dani and practicality were complete strangers, and she was much more given to whimsy than being sensible. I could tell my purchasing jewelry for her suggested to her another level of intimacy, one she shared with Darren, and she wasn't ready to go there yet. I acknowledged another small stab of hurt, but I tried not to show it. I think Dani sensed something all the same.
We ate an early dinner in one of the towns called Sister Bay, at a Mexican place called JJ's recommended by the locals. Afterward, we piled into my SUV and sped down the road, leaving Sister Bay in our rearview mirror as we passed again through Ephraim and on to Egg Harbor. Our journey took us to Orchard Country Winery where Zoe, Scott, and I were scheduled to take a ghost trolley tour.
We poked around, early for our tour, but the winery was closed. I advised Scott and Zoe to visit the Johnny-on-the-Spot before we left, not certain about any opportunities along the way, and knowing they slurped down the free refills of soda at JJ's. I walked Dani and Tabitha to my SUV and buckled Tabby into her car seat in the back. I enjoyed taking care of her. After giving Dani the quick tour of the SUV's readouts and buttons, we stood outside of it, unwilling to part.
"We don't have to do this tour, you know. We can do a historical tour tomorrow in daylight, or something else Tabby might—"
Dani placed a fingertip on my lips to silence me. She smiled. "No. You guys go and have fun. Tabby and I are fine. Right, Tabs?"
"Right!" came an enthusiastic little voice from the back seat.
Dani giggled. "See?"
I rubbed her shoulders. "Okay."
"And we'll be here in plenty of time to pick you up."
I dropped my hands to her hips as she leaned against the SUV door. Dani laced her hands behind my neck, letting her gaze flicker to my lips for a second. She smiled at me with a hint of naughtiness, making my insides turn to pudding. I dropped my head and nipped at her lips before covering them with an impassioned kiss. As she pressed her body against mine, the heat of the kiss speared through me. Knowing little eyes might be watching, we separated from each other quickly, but not before I caught the need in her eyes. I slid my fingers along a lock of hair falling in front of her shoulders, letting the back of my hand touch the skin of her upper chest. I brushed past her breasts as I removed it.
"Come on, Dad," Scott yelled from behind me.
"You better go... Dad," Dani said mockingly.
I backed away a few feet, still holding her hand and bending to peer through the partially opened rear window where Beverly and Bowser seemed to be engrossed in a high-pitched but congenial conversation on Tabitha's lap.
"Bye, Tabby," I called, but she ignored me.
Dani cleared her throat, her cheeks pinkening. "Apparently, now Bowser's on the scene, you're chopped liver."
"I can understand. This could be the beginning of a very real and important relationship for both pup and beaver, and I wouldn't want to disturb that." I smiled broadly and gave her hand one last squeeze before turning and trotting off to the trolley. It was absolutely ridiculous I missed her already.
On board the trolley, Scottie and Zoe were teasing each other about who would be the most scared. Then the driver stepped aboard.
I'll admit it, I even jumped slightly. The man had to be at least 6'5, dressed in black pants and a high-necked, starched white shirt. A long black cape trailed from his broad shoulders to the ground and hung still as night when he was motionless.
He stood, back straight, his long fingers folded thoughtfully in front of him until all eyes were focused on his austere form. He was spooky. Then he spoke. He possessed the perfect voice for the part, deep and rumbling, elegant, cool, even detached, although the tension in it mounted at the appropriate times. His stories were well-woven, drawing his listeners in until they were straining to hear, hanging on every word. Zoe clasped my hand tightly. We'd all crammed into a seat together, although they were really meant for two. I took a peek at her face and it glowed with expectancy.
Before we hit town, we made a few stops outside of houses that hosted frequent, other-worldly visitors. Then the trolley pulled up to one of the historic houses in town, and another tour guide walked us through it.
Our group of about twenty-five squished into one candlelit room while we listened to more stories and passed around pictures visitors took with "mysterious," shadowy figures in the background, clearly unaware they were in "one of the most haunted houses in Door County." Then we were taken through the front parlor, where anyone who died in the house would be laid out for visitors on the day of the funeral, and experienced the strange chill other guests noted. Although logic predicted we would be over-warm from being in the smaller room, and feel an understandable temperature drop in the more wide-open parlor, it still kind of set our hair atingle.
As we filed back onto the trolley, Zoe grabbed my hand again. "Thanks, Dad. This is great." Ahh. Those magical words every parent longs to hear. I peeked at Scooter. Underneath his red ball cap, he strove to act calm, cool, and collected, as if the scary stories weren't affecting him at all. But I could tell his face was tighter than usual.
"How's it going, Scooter?"
"Good, good," he said, unconvincingly. He threw his ball up and down as we waited for people to load. I smiled. I loved it when the cool kid façade slipped, and I could still see the little boy in him. His attempts to hide it became almost comical.
After several more stops, we ended the tour in a graveyard containing all of the headstones of the characters our guide described throughout the course of the evening, driving home the authenticity of the stories. They spoke of people who truly lived and breathed in this town, but who now haunted it only in spirit.
To my relief, our brilliant guide lightened the mood on the way home with a trolley sing-a-long, possibly avoiding the troubled night's sleep I already anticipated for Scooter. Ending our sing-a-long with "Ghostbusters," we repeated words about not being afraid of ghosts, making it like a mantra to psych the kids, and no doubt some adults, out of bad dreams.
When we pulled into the lot, I spotted the SUV right away. Scott and Zoe and I trekked in its direction, my hands around their shoulders, deeply content.
"That was cool, Dad." Scott grinned. "I loved singing those songs."
"Yeah. I didn't know you knew 'The Monster Mash.'"
Scott rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Everyone knows 'The Monster Mash.'"
We reached the car, but found it empty. Putting my hand to the glass to shade the glare of the parking lot lights, I peered into the backseat. I recognized the huddled shapes of Bowser and Beverly sitting snuggly in Tabitha's car seat.
"Where'd they go?" Scott asked.
"That's what I was wondering..." Where could they have gone? My stomach dropped. I looked around. The winery was closed and dark. To the right, a wooded hill descended and we could see the road into town. To the left, a cornfield. I bent and grabbed my extra key from a magnetic box secured inside a bumper and hurriedly opened a door, looking for a clue of some sort. I found Dani's purse, apparently untouched, under the driver's seat and nothing else, other than a long, rectangular package on the passenger's side, but that didn't interest me. I began to hit full panic mode when she called out behind me.
"Hey, guys. How was it?"
I turned to see her strolling toward us with Tabby, and my heart rate slowly returned to normal. I guess some nerves still remained from our tour, or from the incident early in the day with Tabby. Whatever the case, I was extremely relieved and happy to see them. It had turned cooler, so Dani had donned a blue jean jacket along with jeans and a white t-shirt. She stuck her hands in her jacket pockets as sh
e walked, swinging one booted foot in front of another.
Scottie stopped tossing his ball to answer her. "Great."
"Awesome," Zoe seconded. She squatted and held her hands out and Tabitha ran into them so Zoe could swing her around. Her peal of laughter rang out through the still night.
Copying Zoe's gesture, I held my hands open for Dani, and she sauntered into them, a crooked smile on her face. "I've got something for you."
I grabbed her and nibbled on an ear. "I've got something for you, too," I said in a low growl.
She giggled and shivered. "I bet you do." Her eyes were twinkling in the lights of the parking lot. "You'll have to wait until we get home before you get yours."
"I'll give you yours now." I gave her a lengthy and heartfelt kiss.
"Ooh!" Scott and Zoe teased.
I released Dani and she sort of stumbled backward in the loose gravel, hands still in her pockets. She bit her bottom lip and stared at me before mouthing, "Later," in a way that made me holler, "Come on, kids. Let's get going."
They piled in and Dani strolled around to the front, peering at me over her shoulder. I opened the door and put one foot on the running board, resting my arm on the top of the door frame as I watched her. A car across the parking lot framed her for a moment in its headlights as it swung out of its space. She trailed her fingers along the hood of the car, still holding my eyes and making my blood boil. I grinned at her thinking, You can play with me all you want, but you eventually have to pay up. We got in, and I pulled out of our parking spot so fast, I raised a cloud of chalky, white dust. We raced out of the lot and into the night.
Chapter 17
Danielle
Scottie fell asleep almost before Tucker unfolded the bed all the way. Zoe followed suit with Tabby next to her, Bowser tucked into one elbow, and Beverly in the other, though still partially wet. Tucker and I poured the rest of the wine from the previous night's dinner into two glasses, looking over the counter to the dark end of the room where Scottie snored softly.
"Come on," I whispered to him, taking his hand and leading him into my bedroom. I set my glass on the dresser and scooped up a long package from the bed. "Open it," I ordered, handing it to him, then jumping on the bed to watch him.
He smiled tentatively, and sat on the bed with the gift spread across his lap. I scooted to kneel behind him so I could watch him as he unfolded the layers. He turned his head to look at me. "Why did you do this?" He sounded cross. "You wouldn't let me buy you those earrings I wanted to buy you." I could tell this hurt him.
"You can buy me the earrings tomorrow." I pointed to the package. "Open it."
He ripped a small corner. Then, seeing a hint of the driftwood inside, his curiosity must have got the best of him as he dug in. My gift soon lay in his lap.
"Dani. These are beautiful." Three of the shots I took that morning were displayed in a driftwood frame. "I knew they would be good when you took them. But these are amazing. You really have a knack."
I took my camera to a one-hour place and had the shots developed in black and white. The first was a picture of Zoe I caught at the end of a pier, the wind blowing her long hair, her face thoughtful. It really seemed to capture the self-confidence of a girl becoming a woman, along with the suggestion of the teenage angst still lying underneath it all. Her eyes squinted a little in the sun, which splashed across her face, hands rested in her pockets. Such a beautiful girl.
In the second, Scott scooped a rock out of the sand to send it skipping across the water. His shadow stretched companionably in the sand from his toes to his hands.
In the third photo Tucker sat in a white Adirondack chair with Scott balanced on the arm and Zoe bent, reaching around from behind to clasp her father around the neck. His face was relaxed and happy, the picture of contentment. The final effect was that of a close family enjoying each other on a relaxing vacation.
He studied the pictures without speaking, and I began to wonder what he thought. I squirmed. "I thought, since you said you didn't have a lot of photos of the kids you—"
He cupped the back of my neck, dragging me down for an awkward kiss.
"I love it," he said sincerely, not releasing me. "It was incredibly thoughtful of you, and is incredibly special to me. Thank you, Dani."
I shifted, uncomfortable with the praise, and crawled off the side of the bed. "You're welcome." What was the matter with me? I wanted him to love it, and he did. So why was I suddenly so uptight? I fiddled with the clasp of my necklace, finally getting it off and laying it on top of a tall dresser. I started to move away, but Tucker grabbed my hand.
"You all right?"
"Yeah," I answered evasively. "I'm just tired." I forced myself to turn and look at him. "That storm front's moving in," I commented, jerking my head to the windows. "I guess my allergies are affecting me."
He nodded, but his eyes lingered on my face. "Anything I can do for you?"
I let my gaze fall on our hands, where he still clung to the very tips of my fingers. Without thinking, I intertwined them. "No. Maybe I need to get some sleep."
"Okay," he said, though he didn't sound altogether convinced. "Maybe I can do something for me then." With a lunge, he grabbed me behind the knees and towed me in between his legs.
I had to laugh, looking into his joyful face.
"That's better," he murmured, his hands running along the backs of my thighs. I touched his face, then bent to kiss him gently. An inescapable gravitation led me toward him, like a damaged satellite reentering the atmosphere and barreling toward the ground. Without warning, he flipped me onto the bed, his kisses blazing along my lips, his hand coming to lie on the bare flesh at the base of my neck. My heart pounded in my chest. Then, as quickly as it started, he disengaged. I opened my eyes carefully, knowing I had to refocus slowly, as coming out of orbit too fast can make people dizzy.
"That's so you dream about me," he said a bit smugly. He stood and left, closing the door softly behind him with a self-assured grin.
As soon as he left, I rolled on my side, closing my eyes and trying to gather myself together. That's so you dream about me. Like I had a choice. I groaned and snatched a pillow, bringing it to where I lay at the end of the bed, clutching it to my stomach. I didn't bother to get up and turn off the light. Didn't bother to wash my face or brush my teeth. I let the pain squeeze me and pour me out onto the bed in the form of tears.
I dreamt of him as I did before, almost every day since Colorado. I saw flashes of his face at the bottom of the stairs at the concert, flashes of him dancing with me at the resort in Colorado, flashes of us in bed... then... A horrendous explosion ripped him from my arms, each night with more violence and more inner agony. I woke, flying up in bed, biting off a scream. I had become an expert at swallowing cries right as they spilled off my lips. I couldn't wake Tabby, or now, anyone else. I fell onto the mattress, used to the sweat trickling down my neck and matting the hair on my forehead. As I let my breathing slow, panting in the darkness, the pain dissipating in my chest, I became aware of noises in the other room.
Still dressed, I sauntered out into the living room/kitchen. A glance at the pull out bed showed me Tucker, limbs akimbo, and next to him, the spot where Scott must have lain, the sheet looking as though it were carelessly thrown off, leaving one of Tucker's muscular thighs bare, a thought I tried not to dwell on.
Yellow light spilled out from under the bathroom door and around the jamb, left partially open, and I could make out the sound of Scottie being ill. I crept to the door. "Scott?" I pushed it open an inch or two.
"No. Stay out," he managed before another bout forced him to lean over the toilet and retch.
"Oh, honey." I didn't mean to ignore his instructions or invade his privacy—he just looked so pathetic. I rushed into the room and knelt behind him, rubbing his back, offering as much comfort as could be taken in this type of situation. "It's okay," I murmured. His poor body jerked forward again violently. I wanted to cry for him. "Let it out,
Scottie. It'll all be over soon." I reached for some toilet paper and wiped his mouth where spit clung to it, throwing it into the toilet and flushing away the vile substance within. Scott panted, exhausted from his efforts.
"Hold on." I stood, hurriedly filling a Dixie cup from the faucet, then ran a washcloth under the cold water. I returned to his side. He fell on his heels, pale and sweaty. "Feeling a little better?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded. "Here." I handed him the water and he gulped it gratefully, spitting some into the toilet and swallowing the rest. He sighed. "Do you want more?" He shook his head.
"Thanks," he croaked.
"No problem." I dabbed at his forehead. "Sometimes it helps to cool you down."
He allowed me to wipe his face, looking at me strangely, then took it himself. His face appeared so drawn, it worried me.
"Why don't you rest for a minute. You're probably feeling weak right now." I grabbed a towel from the towel rack and folded it. "Here. You can sit or lay down."
"Thanks," he said again, and promptly curled up on the cool tile floor, using the towel as a pillow.
I sat, resting my back against the wall. "Probably the late-night ice cream wasn't such a hot idea." It was my suggestion, I remembered with a guilty pang. "Especially after being frightened."
His eyes blinked open wide. "Oh... I wasn't really scared."
"Really?" I said carefully. "I would have been." He shifted and tried to fluff his towel. "Here. Lay your head on my lap and we'll use the towel as a blanket." He hesitated only a beat, then lifted his head and rested it on my thigh. I spread the towel over him and he guided it to his shoulders, nestling in as I told him a story. "When I was young, my big sister, Amber, used to terrorize me and my little sister, Becca, by pretending to call the spirits down on us." I shivered, remembering...
Tucker
Noises woke me and I followed them to the bathroom. At first I didn't intend on eavesdropping, but their voices were so compelling.
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