wondered if I might be losing my mind, remembering the
other episodes involving strange, fleeting figures.
Grant came in after Giles and David left and sat down
opposite me, fixing me with a penetrating stare that must have read my
confusion.
“We’ve been wrong, Suzie,” he said quietly. “We and
especially I, should’ve been more sensitive to your loss.”
I gazed at him. The sedative Giles had prompted me to
swallow was beginning to take effect and a comfortable languor was creeping
over me. I assessed Grant’s features lazily, admiring his chiseled jaw and his
wide mouth with the small scar at one corner. I smiled.
“You saved my life,” I said. “I guess that means I owe you.”
He cocked a distracted brow, then smiled too, softening his
face so it was warm and compellingly attractive.
“You do pick a helluva time for a swim,” he said and we both
burst out laughing until tears ran down my cheeks and I leaned back in my
cocoon of warmth, closed my eyes and sighed, truly exhausted.
“Up to bed with you,” he ordered and despite my feeble
protests, scooped me up easily and carried me upstairs.
I was asleep before we reached my room and, for once, I didn’t
dream.
I awoke early the next day still in a haze of lethargy I
refused to give in to. I was determined to pursue a new course of action I’d
hatched before the episode at the pool.
By seven, I was dressed and downstairs, careful not to
disturb the rest of the household. The heady aroma of perking coffee beckoned
me to the kitchen. I had over an hour before I needed to leave.
It was apparent Lottie Wilson had been busy for some time.
Two apple pies cooled on a rack in front of the window while a batch of
cinnamon buns was rising in their trays, nearly ready for the oven. She opened
her mouth in surprise at the sight of me and wiped her hands on her apron, her
face beaded with perspiration, a smudge of flour vivid against her ebony skin.
Her hair was pulled back and contained in a fine mesh net.
“Why, Suzanna! I didn’t ’spect you to be down so soon!
Shouldn’t you still be in bed?” Her warm brown eyes assessed me with concern.
“I’m fine, Lottie,” I grunted. It never failed to amaze me
how fast gossip spread through the house. I’d almost hoped to get away without
being reminded of last night’s performance. “Is that coffee ready? It smells
delicious.”
She smiled and her broad face melted into gentle folds. “Why,
you just sit down, honey and I’ll get it for you. Seems ages since you’ve been
in here to visit me. I was beginning to wonder if you might’ve forgotten old
Lottie!”
She poured the dark, steaming liquid from the blue-speckled
pot on the stove and set the cup before me with a jug of milk and a bowl of
sugar. I smiled apologetically.
“I should’ve come in to see you sooner but things have been
so crazy around here…” I ignored the sugar but poured in a healthy dollop of
milk and took a sip. No one could make coffee like Lottie!
She sat down across from me, her ample frame bulging over
the sturdy, straight-backed chair. She studied me intently. “How’re you doing,
dear?”
“To tell you the truth, I really don’t know anymore. I
thought I was handling things pretty well…until last night.” I glanced up. “You
heard?”
She nodded, dropping her eyes. We were silent for a moment.
“It seemed so real,” I said at last. “I could swear I saw
something in the pool. And yesterday, there was a man standing in the road,
then again at the edge of the woods by the grave…”
“Wait a minute, honey. What man’s this?”
“I don’t know. It was all so sudden.” I described the two
events and Lottie listened with a frown, her huge hands laid flat on the
tabletop.
After I finished, she shook her head and clucked her tongue.
“You might think I’m loony, Suzanna but it sounds to me like someone’s tryin’
awful hard to scare you. Otherwise…” She clucked her tongue.
“Otherwise
other episodes involving strange, fleeting figures.
Grant came in after Giles and David left and sat down
opposite me, fixing me with a penetrating stare that must have read my
confusion.
“We’ve been wrong, Suzie,” he said quietly. “We and
especially I, should’ve been more sensitive to your loss.”
I gazed at him. The sedative Giles had prompted me to
swallow was beginning to take effect and a comfortable languor was creeping
over me. I assessed Grant’s features lazily, admiring his chiseled jaw and his
wide mouth with the small scar at one corner. I smiled.
“You saved my life,” I said. “I guess that means I owe you.”
He cocked a distracted brow, then smiled too, softening his
face so it was warm and compellingly attractive.
“You do pick a helluva time for a swim,” he said and we both
burst out laughing until tears ran down my cheeks and I leaned back in my
cocoon of warmth, closed my eyes and sighed, truly exhausted.
“Up to bed with you,” he ordered and despite my feeble
protests, scooped me up easily and carried me upstairs.
I was asleep before we reached my room and, for once, I didn’t
dream.
I awoke early the next day still in a haze of lethargy I
refused to give in to. I was determined to pursue a new course of action I’d
hatched before the episode at the pool.
By seven, I was dressed and downstairs, careful not to
disturb the rest of the household. The heady aroma of perking coffee beckoned
me to the kitchen. I had over an hour before I needed to leave.
It was apparent Lottie Wilson had been busy for some time.
Two apple pies cooled on a rack in front of the window while a batch of
cinnamon buns was rising in their trays, nearly ready for the oven. She opened
her mouth in surprise at the sight of me and wiped her hands on her apron, her
face beaded with perspiration, a smudge of flour vivid against her ebony skin.
Her hair was pulled back and contained in a fine mesh net.
“Why, Suzanna! I didn’t ’spect you to be down so soon!
Shouldn’t you still be in bed?” Her warm brown eyes assessed me with concern.
“I’m fine, Lottie,” I grunted. It never failed to amaze me
how fast gossip spread through the house. I’d almost hoped to get away without
being reminded of last night’s performance. “Is that coffee ready? It smells
delicious.”
She smiled and her broad face melted into gentle folds. “Why,
you just sit down, honey and I’ll get it for you. Seems ages since you’ve been
in here to visit me. I was beginning to wonder if you might’ve forgotten old
Lottie!”
She poured the dark, steaming liquid from the blue-speckled
pot on the stove and set the cup before me with a jug of milk and a bowl of
sugar. I smiled apologetically.
“I should’ve come in to see you sooner but things have been
so crazy around here…” I ignored the sugar but poured in a healthy dollop of
milk and took a sip. No one could make coffee like Lottie!
She sat down across from me, her ample frame bulging over
the sturdy, straight-backed chair. She studied me intently. “How’re you doing,
dear?”
“To tell you the truth, I really don’t know anymore. I
thought I was handling things pretty well…until last night.” I glanced up. “You
heard?”
She nodded, dropping her eyes. We were silent for a moment.
“It seemed so real,” I said at last. “I could swear I saw
something in the pool. And yesterday, there was a man standing in the road,
then again at the edge of the woods by the grave…”
“Wait a minute, honey. What man’s this?”
“I don’t know. It was all so sudden.” I described the two
events and Lottie listened with a frown, her huge hands laid flat on the
tabletop.
After I finished, she shook her head and clucked her tongue.
“You might think I’m loony, Suzanna but it sounds to me like someone’s tryin’
awful hard to scare you. Otherwise…” She clucked her tongue.
“Otherwise
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