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She paused and stuffed a hand into her mouth to stifle the scream she knew couldn’t be heard anyway.
Her father tried to leap the vast divide as the bridge rose up toward the clouded, emerald sky.
With horror, she watched him drop, vanishing from sight.
She rushed to the edge of the bridge. The sailboat passed serenely, maybe even majestically. Distantly, she heard the sound of an air horn.
Behind her, the thrum of engines as traffic lined up to cross the bridge when it went back down.
She peered into the murky, dark water.
There was no sign of him.
When she looked up at the other side, Trey stood there, straddling his bike and smiling and waving.
The phone saved her. Its ringtone, the theme fromHalloween, sounded, and for a moment, Miranda supposed it was the soundtrack to her nightmare. She groaned and rolled over and then snatched the phone from the pile of books she used as a nightstand.
She noted the time—a little after ten (she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slumbered so late) and the caller—Daddy.
She pressed Accept. “Hey.”
“Hi, honey. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
She sat up straighter in bed, pulling the quilt up over her bare chest. “No, I was just lying here checking email,” she lied.
“Good. I was wondering if you wanted to have breakfast this morning. You could swing by here, and I’ll make us a frittata.”
The thought of food caused Miranda’s stomach to roil. She visualized bright yellow bile. “Uh, that’s nice. But I have a ton of work to get done today.”
“Well, then you need a good breakfast!”
“Actually, Debbie’s downstairs now, making pancakes for the house. She hardly ever cooks, and she’ll be bummed if I don’t stay here.”
“Oh, well. Okay. Maybe brunch tomorrow?”
“Yeah, let’s talk about it later.” She was beginning to wish she hadn’t picked up. Her father’s early-morning breeziness was annoying and, worse, he probably was hoping she’d ask about his date last night. Or meetup. Or whatever it was.
She wasn’t going to bite. She didn’t want to know, unless it was a disaster.
He told her anyway. “So, in case you’re wondering, last night was nice.”
“That’s good.” Miranda shifted to look out the window. Droplets of rain blurred the view.
“Yeah, he was a perfect gentleman. Much more forthcoming and fun.”
Oh god. Miranda didn’t want to hear this. The wordfunconjured up an image of Trey heading into the baths. Should she blow the whistle on Trey? She shook her head. Telling Daddy wasn’t an option. He’d been hurt so much in the recent past. How could she pierce his excitement, even if she thought that, ultimately, it might be the kindest thing to do? “Well, that’s good. And you behaved yourself?” She chuckled despite feeling any mirth at all.
“As I said, we were perfect gentlemen. A kiss on the cheek…and one more nice thing.”
“What was that?” The rain began coming down in earnest.
“Just after I got home, he texted me and said he missed me already. Said he couldn’t wait to see me again. Actually, he said he waspiningfor me. Very sweet, I thought.”
Did he do this from the bathhouse or outside?Miranda didn’t voice her query. But she forced herself to ask the question on her mind, even though she dreaded the answer. She feared she already knew it. “Sweet. So, any plans to see him again?”
“Actually, yeah. We made plans via text last night.” He laughed. There was delight in his voice. Happiness. It turned Miranda’s stomach. “He’s never been to Duke’s. Can you believe it? I told him we could meet up for lunch there on Monday. You could join us if you’re free.”
I’d rather stick toothpicks under my eyelids. “Monday? Don’t you remember? I have classes all day.”
