The Battered Heiress Blues - By Laurie Van Dermark Page 0,19
but her attempt was clumsy. I glanced over and made note of their interactions. The boy didn’t respond to any of the man’s conversation. He didn’t show any interest in flying the kite. He sat on the sand, staring into the liquid blue that filled his mind’s eye. He was trapped somewhere else. I sympathized with his broken compass. The man, however, had a look of genuine contentment on his face, like he wished for nothing better- at least nothing different.
“Are you sure you don’t want to introduce yourself?”
She answered, casually flipping through the pages, “No. He probably has a wife.”
That was that. They stayed for another twenty minutes and then vanished. We didn’t even notice their departure. That was probably the alcohol kicking in. The rest of the afternoon was spent drinking, laughing, and splashing in the wake of the waves.
Henry called to check up on us under the guise of giving Kate a message from her mom. I wasn’t fooled and neither was she. I was pretty sure that he was onto us for breaking rule number one. The conversation was circular like he was trying to trip me up. He felt it necessary to remind me of the statement I had promised to prepare. I brushed him off and changed the subject, but he was adamant that I have it ready and so I agreed- again. Kate was the last to speak, hanging up on him mid sentence, but it mattered little to me. I didn’t have a care in the world.
As the sun went down, we tried to gather our things. Either the sand was very uneven or we were very intoxicated. We stumbled as we walked back to the main house, leaving our stuff just inside the front door. Unanimously deciding to skip dinner for sleep, we pulled each other up the stairs and collapsed in my bed.
“Bloody hell, I have to pee,” she announced.
I started to push her toward the edge of the bed, but she fell off, causing a loud thud which was only trumped by the hideous laugh that ensued.
“What the hell, Jewels?”
Her head poked up above the covers and she looked like she was seeing double.
“Sorry. I didn’t want you to wet my bed. I was trying to be helpful.”
“Well now I’ve peed myself so piss off.”
“Don’t be like that- it was an accident.” I pulled myself to the edge of the bed to make amends, not suspecting that she was out for revenge. The next thud I heard was me being pulled over the edge and crashing onto the hardwood below.
“Now I’m not mad,” she said with a grin.
“Why is the floor wet? Awe Kate.”
4
Banging and screaming roused us from bed. My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. Leaning over the side, I hoped to find a bottle of water, but no such luck.
“Who is making that racket?” You don’t wake Kate in this manner. Ever. “They are going to wish that they never stepped foot on that porch.”
“Stop yelling.” I covered my head with a pillow. I was officially hung over.
“I’m not yelling. They’re yelling. Get up.”
“They’ll go away,” I insisted.
“They’re still banging.”
“Just call 9-1-1.”
“And say what? Annoying Americans are knocking on a door? Get up. This is your house. You’re coming with me.”
She pulled the covers off and threw a robe at me. I took no notice that I was still wearing my red bikini- Henry’s selection. I begrudgingly reached for the white, terrycloth bathrobe and stuck my feet in garden boots before following Kate downstairs. She had made the extra effort to find pajamas last night and was in a better state to entertain company. She looked through the sidelights of the door and turned back with eyes the size of tea saucers.
“What’s wrong? Who’s here?” I inquired.
She stood in front of the door, her body making the shape of the letter “X”.
“Let’s go back to bed.” Kate grabbed my arm and started to pull me toward the staircase. I turned under her hold and headed back to the door. She quickly caught the back of my robe and yanked me to a halt, jumping back in the lead.
“Whatever you do, I need you to promise that you’re not going to freak out.”
“Kate, you’re being ridiculous. Why would I freak out?”
“On the other side of this door is…” she hesitated.
“Go on.”
“Promise me that you’ll behave first.”
“My head hurts and I’m really tired. No games. Who is it?”
“Judas.” She stared back through the sidelights, angry.