The summer twilight and the island’s night sounds slipped inside and surroundedher. Thena sat in the dark a long time, trying to decide at what point her chemical reactions to Jed Powers had gotten totally out of control.
Her father had been taller than Jed, but not much bigger around. Thena went into a back storage room, where she unpacked a pair of blousey white work pants and rolled up the legs. She also aired out one of the faded Hawaiian shirts her father had adored. Tom Selleck attire it was not, but at least Jed would be adequately covered. Getting him covered was a crucial project to her.
At ten o’clock he ambled downstairs, the denim cutoffs slung low on his hips. Seated in her chair again, a floor lamp creating a pool of light around her, Thena looked up from her latest sojourn through the world of
Oliver Twist
. The dogs, stretched out on the floor near her feet, watched Jed with growing acceptance. They only growled once.
“Bathroom,” he mumbled sleepily.
Her face taut with the effort of not staring at the descending V of hair on his stomach, she pointed down the hall. He smiled at her and started toward it.
“There are fresh clothes in there for you.”
“Thanks. What’re you readin’?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Charles Dickens. My favorite.”
“I remember him. Wrote about England. Hmmmm,
David Copperfield
. Only book I didn’t fall asleep over in class.” Thena stared at him in pleased surprise, her lips parted.
“I’m reading
Oliver Twist.”
“Has it got a few laughs in it?”
“A few.”
“Will you read some of it to me after I take a shower?”
“Well … certainly. I’ll fix something to eat, if you’re hungry. How do you like hot dogs?”
“By the dozen.”
Hot dogs and Dickens. They spent several hours indulging in both. The warm, fragrant night air sifted through the screen door and the open windows. The tame hawk Jed had seen the first day landed outside the door and delicately ate morsels of canned tuna that Thena left in a bowl for it. Thena sat in the easy chair and Jed lay down on the couch nearby. The room was lit only by the floor lamp.
Jed listened to
Oliver Twist
with sincere interest, his eyes dark with intrigue. Thena felt them on her, never moving, as still as the shadows that pooled in the corners of the house. When an ancient grandfather clock next to the television chimed twice, Thena put her book down and looked at it in surprise. She’d been reading to Jed for several hours.
“Not a bad story. Makes me wish I’d read more good books when I had the chance. I’d like to hear the rest, and you got a pretty voice. How about tomorrow?”
“Are you serious?”
“Damn pretty. You sort of sing when you talk—”
“I meant, are you serious about Dickens? About
Oliver Twist
?” Flustered and secretly pleased, Thena nearly dropped her book. And not because he was interested in literature.
“Yep. I feel content to be still and listen.” He blinked languidly. “You know what? If I hadn’t nearly turned into a french fry on your beach, I would have enjoyed livin’ there. I can see why people like the ocean. It makes you feel peaceful.”
“See? You’re learning to appreciate Sancia already. Would you like to go back to SalHaven tomorrow?”
“Nope. I’ll go anywhere but there.”
“All right. Then you can follow me around.”
“Now that’s a right interestin’ idea—”
“And count crabs.”
He clasped his chest dramatically. “She shot him down bad, right through the heart.”
Thena chuckled. “I count sand crabs regularly.Over the years, my records might reveal dramatic changes in their population. That could be important to everything they eat, and everything that eats them.”
“I’ll eat them unless you get me another hot dog.” They shared a companionable laugh.
Companionable. That was the perfect way to describe the relationship that developed between them during the next few days, Thena decided. He
Her father had been taller than Jed, but not much bigger around. Thena went into a back storage room, where she unpacked a pair of blousey white work pants and rolled up the legs. She also aired out one of the faded Hawaiian shirts her father had adored. Tom Selleck attire it was not, but at least Jed would be adequately covered. Getting him covered was a crucial project to her.
At ten o’clock he ambled downstairs, the denim cutoffs slung low on his hips. Seated in her chair again, a floor lamp creating a pool of light around her, Thena looked up from her latest sojourn through the world of
Oliver Twist
. The dogs, stretched out on the floor near her feet, watched Jed with growing acceptance. They only growled once.
“Bathroom,” he mumbled sleepily.
Her face taut with the effort of not staring at the descending V of hair on his stomach, she pointed down the hall. He smiled at her and started toward it.
“There are fresh clothes in there for you.”
“Thanks. What’re you readin’?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Charles Dickens. My favorite.”
“I remember him. Wrote about England. Hmmmm,
David Copperfield
. Only book I didn’t fall asleep over in class.” Thena stared at him in pleased surprise, her lips parted.
“I’m reading
Oliver Twist.”
“Has it got a few laughs in it?”
“A few.”
“Will you read some of it to me after I take a shower?”
“Well … certainly. I’ll fix something to eat, if you’re hungry. How do you like hot dogs?”
“By the dozen.”
Hot dogs and Dickens. They spent several hours indulging in both. The warm, fragrant night air sifted through the screen door and the open windows. The tame hawk Jed had seen the first day landed outside the door and delicately ate morsels of canned tuna that Thena left in a bowl for it. Thena sat in the easy chair and Jed lay down on the couch nearby. The room was lit only by the floor lamp.
Jed listened to
Oliver Twist
with sincere interest, his eyes dark with intrigue. Thena felt them on her, never moving, as still as the shadows that pooled in the corners of the house. When an ancient grandfather clock next to the television chimed twice, Thena put her book down and looked at it in surprise. She’d been reading to Jed for several hours.
“Not a bad story. Makes me wish I’d read more good books when I had the chance. I’d like to hear the rest, and you got a pretty voice. How about tomorrow?”
“Are you serious?”
“Damn pretty. You sort of sing when you talk—”
“I meant, are you serious about Dickens? About
Oliver Twist
?” Flustered and secretly pleased, Thena nearly dropped her book. And not because he was interested in literature.
“Yep. I feel content to be still and listen.” He blinked languidly. “You know what? If I hadn’t nearly turned into a french fry on your beach, I would have enjoyed livin’ there. I can see why people like the ocean. It makes you feel peaceful.”
“See? You’re learning to appreciate Sancia already. Would you like to go back to SalHaven tomorrow?”
“Nope. I’ll go anywhere but there.”
“All right. Then you can follow me around.”
“Now that’s a right interestin’ idea—”
“And count crabs.”
He clasped his chest dramatically. “She shot him down bad, right through the heart.”
Thena chuckled. “I count sand crabs regularly.Over the years, my records might reveal dramatic changes in their population. That could be important to everything they eat, and everything that eats them.”
“I’ll eat them unless you get me another hot dog.” They shared a companionable laugh.
Companionable. That was the perfect way to describe the relationship that developed between them during the next few days, Thena decided. He
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