by Kristy Tate
He laughed and stuck out his hand. “Trevor Marx.”
Penny passed Drake’s jacket from her left to her right hand to take Trevor’s hand in her own, but as she did, Drake’s phone tumbled to the cement with a crack.
She and Trevor both reached for it and bonked heads.
“So sorry,” Penny mumbled as she gathered up the pieces of the broken phone.
“I’m not,” Trevor said, straightening and rubbing his forehead. “I’m happy I got to bump into you.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Penny fumbled with the phone, trying to piece it together.
Trevor laughed again. “Yes, I intentionally try to knock heads with every pretty woman I meet.”
He called her pretty. Trevor Marx had called her pretty. This astounding thought should have thrilled her. Fifteen years ago it would have sent her over the moon. Ten minutes ago it would have made her giddy. But at that very moment Penny only felt an overwhelming surge of rage as she reread the open text message on Drake’s phone: I gave them matching Hello Kitty T-shirts for Christmas.
Looking up into Trevor’s smiling face, Penny stuttered, tried to rally her thoughts, and then blurted, “Excuse me, I have to leave.”
Chapter 21
The sky goddess Frigga spent her days weaving the clouds with sunshine and rain. As surely as she wove the heavens, she spun the fates. She watched the marriage of Hans and Ingrid, smiling. She knew the future, although she could never change it.
From Hans and the Sunstone
Drake found Penny in the upstairs bedroom throwing her clothes into a bag. Wolfgang looked at him reproachfully.
Drake leaned against the doorjamb while trying to understand the mystery of women. Penny radiated anger. He saw it in her spine and in her fast, jerky movements. He understood that their situation was cockamamie at best and laughably ridiculous at worst, but he didn’t want her to leave. He liked her company.
“You’re leaving? Tonight?”
She didn’t answer.
He cleared his throat. “Can you at least tell me why?” When Penny answered by clicking her suitcase shut, he continued, “You know, the reason why you’re leaving might not be important right now. Let’s consider some logistics: it’s after midnight, it will take you at least twenty minutes to get to a hotel, and you will probably have to drive to Seattle to find a hotel with a vacancy, and that’s another hour. So, do you really want to schlep around Seattle searching for a hotel at two in the morning?”
Penny stood, folded her arms and faced him. “Maybe I can find one with a cat quilt.”
“What are you talking about?” Drake couldn’t have been more surprised if she had pulled a shark out of her suitcase.
“I gave them matching Hello Kitty T-shirts for Christmas,” she said in a decent Drake imitation.
Drake stared at her then burst out laughing. “That was you?”
“It’s not funny!” She looked wildly around the room, searching for something to throw at him. She settled on a pillow which she chucked at his head.
Drake ducked, still laughing as the pillow sailed over him. “It was very funny! I put it online and more than twenty-thousand people must have thought it funny, because they passed it on to their friends.” He probably shouldn’t have told her that.
“ARRGH!” She threw another pillow, and this time it landed true and bounced off Drake’s nose. He picked up the pillows and came toward her.
“Get out of my room!” Penny backed against the bed and grabbed a loaded backpack. “How did you get my number?”
Drake dodged the flying backpack, his laughter fading. Wolfgang got to his feet and fled the room. Smart dog. Drake knew he should do the same—that would be the intelligent thing to do—but he didn’t want to. “You texted me, remember?”
Penny considered this as Drake drew closer.
“Your aunt must have given you my number. If I remember, you called me Auntie Mae.”
Penny had nothing left to throw, unless she could pick up the dresser or bed. She probably could pick up the nightstand. Even though he was risking bodily harm, Drake sat down on the bed. “Just stay. At least until the morning.”
“Get off of my bed,” Penny said through clenched teeth.
“Are you mad about the text? Really? Or is there something else?” Drake stood, fighting the temptation to try and hold her and kiss her. The situation was already complicated. He could not kiss her. But he wanted to. As he watched Penny, Drake wondered if he could finally be getting over Blair. “Just stay until the morning,” he repeated.
Penny sat down beside him, careful not to touch him. She didn’t look at him when she said, “This is my bedroom.”
Drake nodded. “I know.”
She turned to him. “You’re not welcome in here.”
He stood and nodded. “Fine,” he said, knowing that the word “fine” from a man’s lips meant so much less than when spoken by a woman.
She stared up at him as he turned to leave. “You can’t come in here. Ever.”
“Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder, “I don’t really see that as a life sentence.”
Chapter 22
If you are interested in controlling or losing weight, don't forget to pay attention to getting enough sleep. Napping is an effective and refreshing alternative to caffeine.
From Losing Penny and Pounds
Penny bolted up and the cat flew off the bed with a meow, her cry barely audible above the music. Penny tried to wake from the deafening dream. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt the cold tile floor beneath her feet. The music played on, a seventies sound with electric guitars, a keyboard, and drums.
She oriented herself. Someone was here. The warm, moist air hit her like a punch to the gut. She’d been sitting only a few feet away at the kitchen table. She hadn’t heard the water running, but she hadn’t been listening for it either. The door slowly opened. The bathroom was empty. There was no sign of recent life…except for a heart drawn on the foggy mirror. Penny stared at her own pale reflection as water dripped down the glass like tears.
“Who’s here?” she screamed.
“Hush, Penny.” Drake sat down on her bed. “It’s okay. It’s just me.” She collapsed against him, shivering and crying.
Drake. Her fuzzy mind tried to make sense of him sitting on her bed and holding her.
“Nightmare?” he asked, shifting her so that the top of her head fit under his chin.
She took a ragged breath and nodded.
“You scared the dog,” he told her. “He’s hiding underneath your bed.”
“He’s a lousy watchdog.” She leaned against him, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
“Richard would be so disappointed in him.”
“Richard wouldn’t like you sitting on my bed.” He held her loosely and she knew that if she asked him to leave he would. She wanted to ask him to stay.
He laid her back down and tucked her in like she was a child.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” she said, noticing that she’d been much warmer outside of the quilt in his arms than underneath it.
“You didn’t wake me.” He stayed on the edge of her bed.
“No?” She glanced at the clock. Three a.m.
“I rarely sleep.”
“Are you a vampire?”
“No, something much worse. An insomniac.”
“That sounds awful.”
“Not as awful as your dream. Do you want to talk about it?”
Penny sniffed. “I’d rather sleep.”
He lay down on top of the quilt beside her. “Me, too.”
***
Penny woke with the sun on her face and quilts tangled around her legs. She watched Drake sleep. He looked different, younger. He needed a shave and his hair was mussed. He stirred and flung his arm over her, and in his sleep he pulled her close. Penny didn’t know why, but she let this near-stranger draw her to him. Then she thought better of i
t and wondered how she could escape.
Easy peasy. She commanded herself to throw her legs out of the tangled sheets and leave the room. But she liked watching the rise and fall of chest. His hold on her tightened and his breath fanned her cheek.
She told herself to run away, but instead she closed her eyes, seduced by the quiet and comfort. She smiled, warmed by the thought that he was able to sleep after all.
***
Penny woke up cold. A breeze smelling of the Sound blew in through the window. Instinctively she reached for Drake, but found only icy sheets. Realization washed over her and she sat up. From downstairs she heard the rat-tat-tat of a keyboard.
As she crawl from the bed, she nearly tripped over Wolfgang. He looked at her, reproach mirrored in his big brown eyes. He needed to go out and she needed to decide what to do. Last night she’d been hell-bent on leaving, today she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t want to be alone, but she didn’t want to endanger any of her friends by staying with them. She couldn’t go to Richard—he had enough of his own problems—and Auntie Mae was off sailing the seven seas. Which left Drake.
A voice in her head told her that wasn’t true. There were billions of places to stay, but the truth was that none of them sounded as appealing as staying with Drake.
Penny pushed her bedroom door shut. It clicked and she leaned against it, considering options. Wolfgang walked over to press his nose against her thigh. She needed to take this from moment to moment, and at this moment, the dog needed to pee. Things couldn’t be much simpler than that.
After Penny threw on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt over her swimsuit, she and Wolfgang padded down the stairs. Drake sat on his perfectly made bed. The computer was on his lap, his shoulders were hunched, and his lower lip was caught between his teeth. She could almost feel his heavy concentration. She and Wolfgang moved through the living room and out the front door without Drake noticing.
The early sun glinted off the upstairs windows, and even though she couldn’t see him, she waved goodbye to the back porch.
Wolfgang found an old tennis ball and dropped it at Penny’s feet. She bounced the ball and Wolfgang jumped up, curly, brown poetry in motion.
It was mid June, and the beach, despite balmy weather, was nearly deserted. Far away, Penny saw pair of women with babies in backpacks, a couple of kids in flapping shorts coaxing a struggling kite, and a lean jogger on the sand. In the water there were a few dark, bobbing heads of swimmers.
Wolfgang interrupted a flock of gulls enjoying the crumbs of someone’s forgotten sandwich. Penny left him with his find, slipped off her sandals, and enjoyed the cool sand beneath her feet. She looked up at the homes lining the bluff. Each house came with large windows facing the ocean, but other than that, they were all unique. Stone terraces with elaborate balustrades neighbored weathered wood shingles in need of paint. A 1950s cottage charmer shared a fence with an Architectural Digest showpiece.
Penny’s gaze lingered on the Marx house before she turned her attention to the frothing tide. The Marx family had always been rich and Penny’s family had been poor. Sometimes her new wealth still surprised her.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled off her shorts and sweatshirt. The water swirled around her ankles as she splashed into the Sound. The water was colder and murkier here than in Laguna, the waves tamer. For the first time since she’d arrived, she felt homesick. And lost.
In Laguna her plan had seemed perfect. And then she’d met Drake. The shocking cold water washed over her as she dived below the surface. In Laguna her life made sense. Everything had been a breeze. Everyday had a predictable rhythm as pleasant and sunny as the California weather. But that was before the Lurk. And now there was Drake. Not that they were necessarily the same sort of guy. Of course she didn’t know the Lurk, but then she really didn’t know Drake either. Yet she let him sleep in her bed, and she’d woken up beside him. Even though there hadn’t been anything physical between them, it had been intimate. Maybe even more intimate than…oh no, she wasn’t going to go there. She couldn’t think about Drake in a romantic or even sexual way, because it would make living with him much too hard.
Penny slowed her crawl stroke and treaded water. She had swum much further than she had thought.
A dark head bopped up beside her. “Hey-ho!” Trevor Marx broke through the surf and shook his dark hair. “Remember me? We met last night. Well, sort of. I introduced myself then you disappeared.”
When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “I said,” he dropped his voice to a lower, sexier pitch, “‘Hi, I’m Trevor Marx.’” His voice returned to normal. “And then you dropped your phone, conked me on the head, and ran through the hedge.”
When she didn’t say anything again, he said, “This is where you tell me your name.” Looking around, he said, “See, no hedges. No means of disappearing.”
“That’s not true,” Penny said, recovering her voice and some of her scattered wits. “I could swim beneath the surface, join a cluster of mermaids, become a sea serpent’s breakfast, or catch a ride on a submarine.”
He laughed. “And all of those scenarios would be preferable to an introduction?”
She liked the way his eyes matched the color of the Sound. A stiff wind blew across the water, raising goose pimples on her exposed arms. “You can call me Maggie.”
“I can call you Maggie,” he parroted. “But that’s not your real name?”
“It’s short for Magdalena.”
“Magdalena?” He snorted.
“Why is that funny?” she asked, trying not to get water in her mouth.
“It’s just… you don’t look Spanish.”
“Are you a name racist? I’ve never understood why a Pedro can’t have blue eyes and freckles.”
“Okay, so your name is Maggie, which by the way is also short for Margaret, and I’d say Margaret suits you far better than Magdalena.”
She put her foot down to find the ocean floor. She needed to be standing on solid ground when talking to someone as handsome as Trevor Marx, but she only found endless water. “What if I said you look more like a Horace than a Trevor?”
“You think I look like a Horace?” Trevor stopped treading water and began to sink.
Penny kicked toward the shore. “What’s wrong with Horace? It’s a fine name, my grandfather’s name, actually.”
“Horace sounds like horse.”
“And horses are poor swimmers.” She stood and he came to stand beside her.
“And now you’re insulting not only my name, but also my swimming ability?”
Penny smiled, held her breath and sunk to the ocean’s floor. After waiting as long as she could, she swam beneath the waves and tackled the back of his knees. He collapsed backwards and Penny cut away from him in strong even strokes.
When Trevor surfaced a slow grin overtook his surprised expression. He lowered his face into the water and charged toward her. She out swam him to the shore then sat down on the sand to wait for him. Wolfgang trotted to her side and sat down with a huff.
Trevor stretched out beside her and rested his head on his crossed arms. The morning sun dried the water on Penny’s skin. She wrung out her hair and lifted her face to the blue sky. They sat at the base of the bluff, and the crop of black boulders on either side blocked the morning breeze. Although Penny knew there were houses above, and most likely people on either side of the rocks, they appeared to be alone.
Trevor had his eyes closed and his face relaxed. The water and sand glistened on his body, and Penny wanted to know everything about him, everything that had happened to him since he left home at eighteen.
Chapter 23
Acutely aware of her warm softness, his mind leapt to a dream of his mouth pressing hers. The feverish heat that consumed his thoughts burned so brightly that he feared she would read them and back away, afraid of the promise in his eyes.
From Hans and the Sunstone
Drake looked up from his note
book. Time had slipped away from him. He’d been lost in the land of the Norse, but now that Hans was kissing Ingrid, Drake wondered what had happened to Penny. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was after eleven. Because the thought of her leaving gave him a hollow feeling in his gut, he pushed away from the table and ran up the stairs. Her door stood ajar. The bed was unmade and her pajamas were in a heap on the floor. Relief whooshed through him.
“Penny? Wolfgang?”
Neither answered. Drake went down the stairs two at a time and banged through the front door. The Volkswagen sat in the driveway. After a moment of indecision on the front step, Drake headed for the beach. He stopped at an outcropping of rocks when he saw her.
She wore the red and white bathing suit and lay on the sand with her eyes closed…beside Trevor Marx. Jealousy thrummed through Drake. Wolfgang rooted in the sand and found a bright pink rubber ball. The dog gave the ball a good shake then dropped it on Trevor’s belly. Trevor sat up and hurled the ball into the surf. Wolfgang raced after it, dancing along the waves and waiting for the ball to come to shore. He barked at the lost toy.
Drake knew that he didn’t like Trevor. Anyone who would intentionally throw a dog’s toy into the surf had to be cruel. Too cruel to spend any time with Penny. Once Drake hit the sand, he could no longer see her, but her laughter floated to him from the other side of the rocks.
“Penny?”
“Drake,” she sat up. “Do you know Trevor?”
Drake nodded at Trevor.
“Of course, you do. You must know all the Marx family, which is more than I can say. I really know nothing about Trevor.” The lie felt heavy on her tongue, but she continued, “Except that he’s not a very good swimmer.”