on the couch, my hair plastered to my forehead with sweat. I stare, wide-eyed, at the open curtains and the sun-lit beach out the window. "What time is it?"
"It's past three, honey. I thought I'd let you sleep in for a little while," Mom's voice cuts through my haze. I pull the covers off and plant my feet on the ground. The tiles under my toes are cold. Relief floods through me as I realize I'm not dreaming anymore. "Hon, are you okay?" Mom gives me a curious look, handing me a cup of coffee. "Thank you for getting the hazelnut coffee—I can't believe they still have it. Remember how your father loved it?"
I nurse the coffee. The hotness stings my tongue. "Yeah, he stole a few packs, didn't he?"
"Not that it lasted long." Mom laughs and strokes the top of my head. "Are you sure you're okay? You screamed in your sleep..."
I shiver at the thought of the man in the gray fedora. "Yeah," I reply, "I just..."
"I have bad dreams too sometimes, especially after your father died." She keeps stroking my hair. For someone who hates the color, she sure doesn't seem to mind touching it. "I know this year is weird, honey, but Charles really is trying."
Trying and succeeding are two very different things, I want to say, but instead I just shrug. The nightmare still has my heart in my throat. He couldn't really find out who I am, right? He passed me on the way out of the office and didn't even look twice. I'm just a name.
It's nothing to worry about.
"So, tonight, Charles and I were thinking of going out for seafood at your favorite restaurant..." She knocks me in the shoulder playfully. "You know, the one with the giant crab?" Mom still thinks I'm seven, doesn’t she?
I bring the cup to my lips again, and remember the Band-Aid on my hand. "I think I'm going out tonight with some friends."
Mom frowns. "I didn't know you had friends here, honey."
"Oh yeah, I've known him for years." Not quite a lie.
"Well, be careful. You know crazies come out at night." She goes to fish her phone out of her purse and turns it on. She’s been keeping her phone off a lot lately. She checks her messages with a frown and puts it back on the table. "We'll both have our phones on, so if anything happens..."
I roll my eyes. "Mom. I'm eighteen."
"And a very beautiful young woman. Even with your pink hair," she adds, kissing my forehead, before excusing herself to the bathroom.
"Thanks for clarifying," I mutter and lounge back on the couch.
My t-shirt still smells like last night—grass and pizza and salt water—and I smile to myself at how crazy it was. Do they live like that? Disregard to property, rules, and social norms? I've never so much as scowled at a teacher, and my idea of living on the edge is firing lazy sound engineers.
Mom’s cell phone startles me out of my thoughts. Should I answer it? What if it’s the bar? They are the only ones who'd call, as far as I know. My worst fear flashes through my mind. I quietly sneak over to the table to grab Mom's cell phone and slip out onto the balcony so she doesn't hear me answer it. The caller ID isn’t familiar, but the area code is Asheville. As I answer, I pray it’s not the fire department.
“Hello?”
“May we speak with Mrs. Baltimore?”
Definitely not the bar. Geoff calls her "Mrs. She" and the rest of them wouldn't call. Suspicion flares like a wildfire. The image of a smoldering heap of the Silver Lining flutters into my vision. Oh, hell. “Who's this?”
“This is Asheville Mortgage Bank calling on behalf of the foreclosure to your business.”
I try not to laugh. “Chuck, is this you?"
“Mrs. Baltimore, we have been trying to reach your business on behalf of—”
The deadness in his voice makes giggle. Whomever Chuck got to do this is really good.
"Mr. Davidson, is this you? You almost had me fooled there. Did Chuck set you up to do this?"
“I'm referring to The Silver Lining, on Haywood Street?" But the man isn't cracking. "If Mrs. Baltimore is there—”
“It’s Conway,” I correct, my voice small, and hang up. My hands are shaking.
Darla looks up from her pool chair and calls up from below, "Hey honey! Tell your mom to get her cute ass down here! I'm bakin'!"
I barely hear her. Dazed, I stumble back into the glass