Читать книгу Love, Lattes and Mutants - Sandra Cox - Страница 12

Sunlight filters through the blinds. I roll out of bed, pad to the window, and draw them up, blinking in the bright light. Raising the window, I sniff the breeze. Beneath dazzling sunlight, I smell the storm. By the pressure in my head, it’s going to be a doozy. The doctor blames the pain on sinuses. I know better.

I reach for my cell on the nightstand and call Holly. She gave me her number when we were doing the girlie thing over lattes. The phone goes to voice mail. I glance at the clock. Eight AM. She must still be sleeping. Maybe Tyler changed his mind.

I let the blinds drop. Still dressed in the pink boxer shorts and white French tee I slept in, I head for the kitchen. The rich scent of brewed coffee beans tickles my senses as I wander into the cheery yellow room.

“Hi, Hon.” The papers rattle but Gramps doesn’t look up. He sits at the pine table, a mug of steaming coffee at his elbow. A coffee ring stains the tablecloth.

I pull out a white cup and bowl, pour myself a cup of coffee, fill the bowl with milk and cereal, and sit down.

Gramps folds his paper and drops it on the table. “You’re on your own for dinner. I’m taking a couple of tourists out.”

“Better not, Gramps. Squall’s coming in.” I spoon a mouthful of crunchy flakes into my mouth.

“Crap, I was saving for a trip to Jamaica.” He gives a disgusted sigh, pushes the chair back, and stands up. He doesn’t argue. He never has. He trusts my instincts implicitly.

I grin. Gramps has been saving for that Jamaican trip ever since I can remember.

“Should I batten down the hatches?”

“Wouldn’t hurt anything.” My head’s pounding like a drum. Even the coffee doesn’t help. The storm’s going to be bad.

“I guess I better let my old buddies know my arthritic knee is acting up. They’ll spread the word.”

I nod and scoop up my cereal. Gramps’ knee is legend. The number of times it has been right has garnered him respect in the fishing community.

I swallow my cereal and clear my throat. “If you see that new boy at the docks, you might let him know.”

“Tyler Carlisle?”

I lift my gaze from my bowl. “You know him?”

“He likes the water,” Gramps says simply. “I’ve run into him a time or two.”

“Nothing gets past my grandparent.” I raise my cup to him.

“Not if it has to do with the water. I’ll be on the wharf, anyway. I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

“Thanks, Gramps.” My tight muscles relax.

“Nice-looking young man.” He picks up his cup and sips. His eyes above the rim twinkle.

Heat surges in my cheeks. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Huh.” His head bobs up and down as if surprised, but his lips twitch. He sets down his cup. “Well, I better get to the wharf and let everyone know what my knee is predicting.”

I nod and rub my forehead.

He notices. “Headache?”

“Yeah. It’s going to be intense.” We both know I refer to the squall, not my aching head.

“I’ll get going then.”

I nod. It might not be flashy but our tag team routine saves lives. I scoop my spoon into my bowl and hit bottom. I finished my cereal without even realizing it. The chair scrapes the floor as I push up and rinse out my bowl.

I try Holly’s cell again. Tyler’s a teenager, surely he isn’t up this early, I console myself.

“Hello.” A sleepy voice answers on the other end.

I go limp with relief. “Holly, it’s Piper. Is your brother there?”

“I doubt it. He was going out on his sailboat. He leaves at the crack of dawn.”

“Could you reach him on his cell?’ My hand tightens on the phone. Darn the boy. Hadn’t I told him it was not a good day to be on the water?

“Nope. He doesn’t have a booster or a mini tower.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Before I can click off, Holly asks, “What’s going on?” She sounds more awake.

“Gramps’ knee is acting up. A sure sign bad weather is coming.”

“That’s nice of you to give us a heads up. But don’t worry about Tyler. He’s an experienced sailor.”

“Good to know. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Since I’m up—”

I pretend not to hear and click off. Maybe Gramps is having better luck. I pour myself another cup of coffee and hit speed dial. “Gramps, any sign of Tyler?” I draw circles with the warm cup on the counter.

“I just got here. I’ll call you back either way, okay?”

“Okay.” The pressure at the base of my skull creeps downward. I scrub the back of my neck. Holly said he’s a seasoned sailor; maybe he won’t go that far out. Maybe he’ll have enough time to make it home.

The minutes tick by. I pace, waiting for Gramps’ call. By the time the phone rings, my head feels like a jackhammer is drilling a blast hole through my skull.

“Hello,” I speak breathlessly into the mouthpiece.

“Piper, it’s Holly.”

Crap.

“I was wondering if you wanted to do anything today.”

Impatience dances along my nerve endings like a thousand spiders. I manage to keep it out of my voice...just. “That’s really nice, Holly, but I can’t today. Rain check?” I’m going to be busy swimming the ocean, checking on her brother. “Just out of curiosity do you know where your brother is headed?”

“Not really. He said he didn’t intend to go out too far.” Before I can respond she continues, “Why the interest in my bro? Do you two have something going on?”

I pull the phone away from my ear and look at it, shocked. “Get serious, Holly. Your brother is the most popular boy in school. He can have anyone he wants. I’m the school mouse.”

“The thing about mice is they can scurry around unobserved, go places, and see things that most people can’t,” Holly responds.

“While that’s very astute on your part, I don’t think that’s the main thing that attracts high school boys,” I reply dryly.

“You got that right.” She laughs. “Though, I’ve never heard Tyler rhapsodize about a girl’s voice before. He keeps talking about sea sirens. I hate to hurt your feelings, but I don’t get it. You sound rather raspy to me. You aren’t a smoker are you?”

I’d just brought my coffee to my lips when she mentions sea sirens. It goes spewing across the counter. I hastily wipe my mouth. “Listen, Holly, I’ve got to go. Got a call coming in.”

“Okay, talk to you—”

“Yeah, sure.” I click off before she can say anymore. “Come on, Gramps.”

As if on cue, my cell rings. “Gramps?”

“Sorry, honey. No luck. Burt said the kid headed out a couple of hours ago.”

Burt and Gramps are old cronies. They’ve known each other nearly sixty years.

“You’re going out aren’t you?”

The kitchen darkens. I lift the curtain and look out the window. The sun has disappeared and the sky is black. A wind that will quickly pick up is blowing. “Yeah. I am.”

“You be careful.”

“I will. And, Gramps.”

“Yes?”

“You better get home.”

“On my way.”

I run to the bedroom and throw on a midnight blue one-piece with the back cut out then rush out the door, the screen banging behind me. I trot to the cliff’s edge. The house is set off, with no near neighbors. Unless someone has a pair of binoculars focused on it, no one will see me. I dive into the foaming gray waves below.

I turn in a circle and look around. The air, heavy and still, increases the clamp-like pressure on my head.

A horizontal spear of lightning flickers along the shore. Thunder rolls. Several yards away, a speedboat skims the water’s surface. Waves buck and roll in its wake. The sun that warmed the water when it came up has disappeared. I breathe in thick wet air and strike out toward sea.