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Spring Tide Page 14


  “Hey.” Jericho parked his truck in the drive. “My flight’s in a couple hours. I was going to your place to say goodbye …”

  “Not yet you’re not.” I dragged him from the car.

  I enlisted him in disposing of a lizard carcass that was on the shower floor and a bigger one that was under the sink. Then we checked all the closets and cabinets for any other dead animals.

  “I gotta go.” He held me from behind, his cheek against mine. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll see you Sunday. Shaka Khan or whatever you guys say.”

  “Shaka what? Hey, if you need anything, Julia’s around.”

  “I’m having dinner with her tonight. Go. Have fun. You need it. Bad.”

  He kissed me and went on his way.

  “Sourdough!” I clicked my tongue as I came through the deck door with a seafood lasagna that I was seventy-nine percent sure was going to be wholly divine.

  I served her a plate, accepted a glass of wine that I wouldn’t be drinking, and sat on the floor next to her at the mahogany coffee table. My fork was halfway to my mouth when I froze, my eyes on a stack of magazines a foot in front of me. I glanced at her.

  “He doesn’t like me to leave them out but he’s not here, so tough. I thought you might like to see them.” She motioned for me to take one.

  He was on several covers, the photos of him so unbelievable that I instantly went stupid. One showed him in the hollow of a huge blue-green wave. In the next, he was suspended in the air above the water, white spray streaming from his board. On the third, he was dropping down the face of a wave at least twelve feet tall, his form in its looming shadow, one hand trailing its path. These waves were nothing like Laces. Who is he?

  “He competed?” I underlined a caption with my finger.

  “You didn’t know? How could you not know?”

  My blank expression betrayed my ignorance.

  “Jason took to surfing when he was little, five or six. After his parents passed, it was the only thing he wanted to do. One competition led to another to another, locations all over the world. Then came the sponsors and within a year he was given a wildcard spot for events on the pro tour. He was the no-name kid who came out of nowhere and took over. No one as young as him has ever won three world titles in a row.”

  World title? “Why did he stop?”

  “It was never about winning or money for him. He was just doing what he loved. And after three years, he wanted something more in his life.” She refilled my glass. “Speaking of winners, he said you’re becoming quite the little gadget, or whatever the term is.”

  “He lies, Julia. Lies. I’ve mostly been up on waves in the baby pool, you know, the super tiny break a half click from the pier. I’ve taken a board to the face three times and I’ve only seen a couple other girls surfing. It’s mostly guys out there laughing at me.”

  “Jason’s not.”

  I flipped to an article about him. In the lower right-hand corner was a photo of him and a statuesque blonde, who had the measurements of a Barbie doll and had become a supermodel. Are you kidding me? Rachel Freakin’ Winslow? She had her armed curled around his bicep, her lips on his cheek. He looked nearly the same, his hair a little longer. My reflection on the back windows flashed “average” in neon and I imagined devil horns and a handlebar mustache on her striking face.

  I put my pinky under her picture. “Girlfriend or random hook-up?” Please say random hook-up.

  “She was his girlfriend when he was eighteen.”

  Damn it! “He’s had a lot of girlfriends, huh? I know I should ask him but I’d rather ask you.”

  “Just Rachel actually.” She rubbed her tummy. “This lasagna is sinful.”

  “It’s not. It’s low fat. Just her, though? What about the photo in his room of the brunette with the huge boobs?”

  She thought for a moment. “That’s Astra. She was a surfing buddy. Kooky little thing, did star charts and horoscopes. I didn’t like her.”

  Rachel Winslow, unbelievable. “I really wish I hadn’t seen this.” I tossed the magazine back onto the table. “I don’t quite measure up.”

  She lightly jabbed my hand with her fork. “You’re just as pretty, if not more so. Besides, he didn’t go with Rachel for more than a couple of months or so.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “Jason has a profound ability to see what’s on the inside. Rachel was smart, but very controlling. In a lot of ways it was doomed from the start. But you’ve got a good soul and I’m not one bit surprised by how quickly he fell in love with you.”

  “He’s not in love with me.”

  “He’s never been as happy as the day he found you. And he’s been surfing less, a lot less, and that speaks volumes.”

  I tasted the lasagna. It was good but needed something.

  There was a knock at the back door. Cosmic Jeff stood outside, daffy grin intact and a copy of the Kama Sutra in his hand. The evening could only get more interesting.

  I spent the next morning continuing the sterilization of the Black’s cottage, finding nubs of beef jerky in the sofa cushions. As I was stepping outside to escape the disinfectant fumes, Jericho called to say that he missed me and the waves were firing like Civil War cannons. I saved my commentary on his ex-girlfriend and his surfing career for in-person but gave him the short version of my insights into Jeff’s sex life.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  She stepped onto the patio and took a deep breath. “Wow, Civil War cannons, huh? … Oh, I have been fully briefed by Jeff on the Kama Sutra and the spirituality it could add to our quote unquote love life, so watch out, baby … I am funny … I won’t get naked with Jeff but he is a whole lotta man … Miss you too.” She hung up.

  “Hello, Kris.”

  “Geez!” Her hand flew to her heart. “You scared me.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you saw me coming.”

  “What’s new?”

  He put a half-eaten pastry on the table and stepped close to her, his voice alluring. “Kris, I need to talk to you. Sit down, Kris.”

  Her eyes glazed over and she took a chair, the wind blowing her hair straight back.

  “Very good. I’ve been watching over you. Can you remember that I am your angel, Kris?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jericho is dangerous. He will ruin your life and I can’t let that happen. Can you remember that Jericho will hurt you, Kris?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has he whispered to you? Does his touch affect you, numb your will? Do you feel spellbound? That’s because he’s slowly creeping into your soul and subconscious so he can enslave you to him. He’s not like you and I. He’s damned and he’ll do the same to you if you stay with him.”

  Eyes of glass blinked several times.

  “He’s done this before, ruined another girl. Like her, you’re blinded by his looks, by his energy.” He put his face an inch from hers. “You must stay away from him.”

  He ran one finger down her cheek and she quietly moaned, her body trembling.

  “I was never here speaking to you. You will remember only what I’ve told you to remember. Tell me what you need to remember, Kris.”

  “You are my angel. Jericho will hurt me. I have to stay away from him.”

  “How do you know these things, Kris?”

  “I just do.”

  He walked away and her eyes followed him until he was gone from her sight.

  _______

  The joyful screech of a kid jumping in the water snapped me from a daydream. I rose from the chair to go inside and saw remnants of a cherry turnover sitting on the table, collecting flies. Someone walking down the beach had probably put it down earlier, too lazy to travel the extra thirty yards to the trash can. Or it was the ghost of Nick. I stashed my supplies under the sink and locked up, a long, hot shower priority one.

  I groaned and looked at my car keys like it was their fault. It was a hundred degrees in the shade and I’d forgotten to roll down the windows
of the dragon. Sitting in my car, I gripped the burning hot steering wheel, but my hands were ice cold. My left shoulder suddenly jerked forward and chilled perspiration covered my body. In the windshield, I swore I saw the blue glow of Jericho’s eyes. I turned the ignition and thought I heard his whispers in the engine’s hum, “sleep well,” echoing in my mind.

  Disquiet bolted me to the car seat the way his touch left me adrift.

  He promised he would tell me about his eyes. He will.

  His eyes, his calm, his kiss, and his touch were sedatives.

  He hasn’t even tried to have sex with me. He’s one of the good ones, wants to go slow.

  But Derek’s kiss had energy. Derek’s kiss didn’t submerge me in dark water. Derek had put his hands all over me.

  I realized at that second that Jericho had “whispered” to me (in the same manner he had with Joshua) to make me sleep like a zombie. Why?

  Was the spark that happened every time I touched Jericho a warning? What about the energy dream I’d had two or three times when I’d shared a bed with him, the one that had left me sore and aching in the morning? For three days straight, I’d slept in his room under his supervision.

  So attracted to everything about him, I didn’t bother to read the signs telling me he was too good to be true. What was it Sylvia had said about Joel? Everything about him made her toes curl—the way he spoke to her, how he touched her. It wasn’t an exact parallel, but there was no denying the similarity.

  He isn’t Joel.

  But he’d never said how he knew Joel.

  No, Jericho would never hurt me. Would he? He said he needed me.

  What was it he needed?

  He’d said once he wouldn’t compromise me.

  Has he? Why was he being so persistent about wanting me to live in his house?

  Why me?

  Maybe I was finally coming to my senses. Or maybe I was losing them altogether.

  While he was in California, he called me in the late afternoon or early evening every day. I picked up his first call to reassure myself that I was wigging out about nothing. But the sound of his voice disturbed me so much that my hand shook and I dropped my drinking glass. For the next two days, I didn’t answer his calls and didn’t listen to his messages.

  I considered moving back to Austin, but then I’d be giving up my job at The Landing, and I’d be breaking the agreement I’d made with Nick’s mom, Mrs. Black. She’d understand, but I couldn’t stomach the idea of going back on my word. And I really didn’t want to live at home again after being away. I had to stay. Everything would be okay.

  _______

  Mom had arrived the night prior. We had a nice, quiet dinner together and then she kicked my butt at putt-putt golf—good times.

  She took a seat on the patio at Nick’s place, the last stop on the tour. She liked the condo more. It was secure and I was way up high on the fifth floor. She liked the Black’s cottage with its deadbolt locks and security system, but didn’t like that I had made housesitting arrangements without talking to her first. I wasn’t taking advantage of anyone. We’d made a fair deal; I’d live rent free in return for supervising the off-season maintenance.

  I took the chair next to her. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the new culinary academy in Dallas. I really want—”

  “And you can absolutely go there after you get your degree.” She wiped sand from the tabletop. “We’ve talked about this before, honey. College can serve to further your future plans, whether it’s in the restaurant business or otherwise. Besides, I think you’ll love it. And you get to go for free. It’s a tremendous opportunity.”

  It was true. Having a degree couldn’t hurt anything. And I loved classes, loved learning, and on some level, wanted that experience. But I also knew that she felt strongly about me going because she’d had to put off her own degree for a very long time and it had been a struggle for our family to pay for it. Culinary school could wait.

  She’d started into a little speech about what to do in the event of emergency/natural disaster/act of terrorism when Julia’s head showed between the porch rails.

  “Mom, this is Julia McCarthy, a friend and,” I pointed left, “a neighbor.”

  They did the “nice to meet you” thing.

  “I went to the deli this morning and got the good sandwiches, the little ones with smoked salmon. Come over and have a bite,” Julia offered.

  It was a little past noon and Jericho wasn’t back from San Francisco. To turn Julia down would be rude, and she and Mom were talking about the next door neighbors, the hermit people. They never went anywhere or did anything and therefore had plenty of time to watch everything and everyone. It was Brahms to my mother’s ears.

  I pulled on my eyelash. “Thanks Julia, but—”

  “Give me fifteen minutes and come on down.”

  “We’d love to,” Mom said.

  Julia was waiting for us on her deck and we sat down with her.

  She poured iced tea. “Kris is friends with our son, Jason. Well, he’s not our son, but we love him like he’s ours. We took him in six years ago when his parents passed away.”

  “He tried to teach me to surf.” I took a sip. “Go ahead and laugh. It’s funny.”

  “Not as funny as you trying to teach me to bake.” Julia giggled and raised her hand. “Lost cause!”

  I didn’t eat much, just listened to her and Mom talk. Being at his house made me uncomfortable, made me think about him and I didn’t want to think about him.

  Mom rose to help Julia bring in the dishes. She stopped in the middle of the living room and marveled at all the paintings. “What a spectacular collection.”

  “Julia did those, Mom.”

  She looked at Julia and then back to the walls. “Where did you study art?”

  “Never had an art lesson, just enjoy the diversion.” She led us to the front door. “My husband and Jason are doing some work today, but I know they’d like to say hello.”

  He’s here? He must’ve taken an earlier flight back.

  Jericho was working on his truck, underneath it, and Donovan was sitting alongside, handing him tools. A bead of sweat dripped into my eye. Don’t look at him. Get through it and get out.

  “Donovan, give him a tap,” Julia said. “Nancy, this is my husband Donovan.”

  “Hello. I’m Donovan.” He poked Jericho’s leg.

  He slithered from under the vehicle, a smile on his face on seeing me.

  My fingers became scouring pads, thumbnails digging. I shoved my hands in my pockets, my sight on Donovan. Say something. “What’s wrong with the truck?”

  “Just maintenance. Hi, Mrs. Edwards. You and Kris look so much alike.” Jericho scanned the area for a towel. “I would shake hands but …”

  “Uhh … Jason repaired a uh … problem with Derek’s car,” I took two steps back and put myself a little behind Mom, “earlier this summer.”

  She nodded. “He’s had such trouble with that car.”

  “It was an easy fix.” Jericho eyed me.

  “You’re teaching Krissy to surf?” Mom grinned.

  “I’ve showed her a few things. She’s gettin’ good.”

  Jericho continued to talk to Mom about my surfing, but I couldn’t follow the conversation. Minutes passed, my brain void of thought. This is enough. I gave Mom a small nudge like I used to do when I was little and she’d run into friends at the store. It was the sign that she’d been talking with them too long and I wanted to go.

  She glanced my way twice. “Well, it was very nice to meet you all.”

  “It was nice to meet you too, Mrs. Edwards.” Jericho waved his hand to get my attention. “See you later?”

  I wiped the sheen from my forehead. “It’s warm today.”

  Walking back to the deck, Julia praised my cooking, inducing snort chuckles from Mom and me. It was an inside joke among my family that it was a miracle I worked in a kitchen. My experimentation at home had resulted in many a scorched pan, smoke-fil
led oven, or whole meals dumped into the garbage disposal.

  Julia put her arm around my shoulder. “Kris is always welcome here and we don’t mind helping her if she’s in a jam.”

  I thanked her for lunch and Mom complimented her paintings again. Mom’s stance and words were casual. She liked Julia. Everyone liked Julia. And it was like Julia knew exactly what to say to her.

  When we got back to the condo, I helped Mom get her things together and made a snack for her trip.

  She took her thermos from the sink. “What was going on with you at the McCarthys’? You were acting strange.”

  “I had a thing for Jason earlier in the summer. Sometimes I still get nervous when I see him.”

  “Hmmm. I can see why. His hair’s a bit long though. Look at me. I want it crystal clear that no one is to know you live alone. That’s what worries me most. If anyone asks, you live with a friend. People don’t always show who they really are and honey, you’re so—”

  “Naïve?” Joshua and Jericho’ve already tested the hypothesis for you, Mom.

  “I just—”

  “Mom, I get it. I live with a friend.”

  “You keep that house locked up tight and set the alarm every time. And if any issues arise with Mrs. Black, you let me know immediately.” She sighed. “I miss you so much. Brad’s on his own and now you are too.”

  “So I can stay?”

  “Of course. You’ve never caused me any concern. In fact, I’m really proud of you. I came down because I wanted to catch up.”

  “I’ll come home more often. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Just make me feel like I’m still important once in a while.” She kissed my cheek. “Not looking forward to the drive home—too many semis.”