A Whisper in Time (16 page)

B
AD
T
IMING

Susanna had acted strangely all last night. Really distracted and excited. There had been no mention of the scene yesterday morning at the waterfall. We ate fast food, watched a movie, and walked around the neighborhood. She talked and laughed and even flirted.

We drove out to the lake house Saturday morning to spend the day with my grandparents. From the very first time she’d ever ridden in any type of car, she’d huddled on the seat, refusing to watch the world rush by. Today, she sat beside me, relaxed and smiling.

What was up with her? It was weird, but I liked it.

I turned onto the narrow paved road that wound through the community my grandparents lived in, although “community” was too strong a word. Each house was lakefront, with its own dock and heavily wooded five-plus acres of land.

We parked on the driveway and got out. My grandfather stood on the deck, fishing poles in hand. He barely nodded at me before smiling at Susanna. “Want to help me catch lunch?”

I could practically hear her smile widen.

“Indeed, I would.”

“Are you going to let me catch the most this time?”

“Victory is only sweet if it’s earned.”

Their laughter faded as they wandered down the trail. It made me a little jealous. I hated to fish, so it wasn’t that. It was the way the two of them disappeared around the bend, strolling along with the silence that comes from an intense friendship. How had Susanna managed that? Granddad barely tolerated most people.

I walked in the screen door, only to be stopped immediately by a small hand smack in the middle of my chest.

“I need you to go out to the shed and bring in the stepladder,” Gran said, “and hurry.”

“Why?”

“We have to get this done before your grandfather gets back.”

I didn’t bother to ask what “this” was. She would tell me when I returned. But it sure didn’t seem fair that Susanna was off having fun with Granddad while I did his unwanted chores for Gran.

I found the stepladder, which was a cobwebby mess, cleaned it off, and carried it inside the house. “All right, Gran. What’s next?”

Her eyes narrowed to slits—in a creepy, squinty glare that reminded me of my mother. “Don’t use that tone of voice with me, young man.”

Mom used that phrase too. She’d be horrified if I told her she was turning into Gran.

I nodded in my best imitation of humility. “Yes, ma’am. How may I help you?”

“Much better. Lightbulbs.”

“Lightbulbs?”

“Yes. I want to use those high-emitting thingies they rave about at the hardware store, but your grandfather refuses to put them in. We’ll take care of it while he’s gone.”

“Now wait, Gran.” I backed up a step. “The last thing I need is Granddad mad at me.”

She shot me another squinty-eyed glare. “Would you rather have
me
mad at you?”

“Point taken.” I picked up the stepladder. “Where do I start?”

“Next to the mantle.”

It took forty-five minutes to finish the kitchen, great room, and master bedroom before Gran called a halt for the weekend. “Susanna usually catches a lot,” Gran said. “I’d better have the frying pan ready.” She waved me toward the bathroom. “Put the ladder away and get cleaned up. They could be here any moment now.”

Susanna came in a few minutes later, carrying some decent-looking crappie. Granddad trailed her, stopping a few steps into the great room. His head swiveled in my direction.

“Lightbulbs,” he muttered.

“What about them?” I asked with all of the innocence my guilty ass could muster.

“You picked your grandmother over me.”

“I did.”

“Smart boy.” He shuffled past me to the bathroom. “I still haven’t forgotten about the leaf vacuuming you promised.”

“Yeah, Granddad. I haven’t either.”

We were eating fish and fried potatoes half an hour later when Gran stood suddenly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

I hoped that meant it was time for pie, but her words let me know I was wrong. She tapped her husband’s palm with an index finger. “You have a puncture.”

He rolled his hand palm down and kept eating.

“Where did you get that? I’m serious, Charlie.”

He shrugged. “At the dock.”

“On a fish hook,” Susanna said.

Gran stalked into the kitchen, pulled a first-aid kit from the cabinet, and returned.

“You’re overreacting, Norah. I’ve stabbed myself before, and I’ll stab myself again.”

“Better safe than sorry.” She pulled out antiseptic wipes, ointment, and a bandage with smiley faces on it.

Susanna gripped the edges of the table until her knuckles turned white. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure my husband doesn’t get a nasty infection.”

“May I watch?”

“Certainly.”

Susanna’s behavior surprised me. She ran around the table and knelt on the floor, watching everything my grandmother did.

“I do believe I like all of the attention,” Granddad said.

Gran snorted. “Yeah, don’t be getting any ideas, old man.”

“Norah,” Susanna said, rocking back on her heels, “Is this the same medicine you used on my ankles when I first arrived?”

“Uh-huh. Bacitracin. It’s an antibiotic ointment.”

“I also took pills.”

Gran nodded. “Your infection was too advanced for a topical antibiotic to do the trick. You needed oral antibiotics as well.” She smoothed the bandage across my grandfather’s palm and scooped up the trash. “There you go. Now, who wants cherry pie?”

* * *

Susanna was quiet on the ride home, and the whole eyes-open thing was still going on.

“Hey, babe.”

She looked at me and smiled. “I had a lovely afternoon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Indeed. There is nothing wrong. In fact, quite the opposite.”

“You like fishing that much?”

“I like visiting your grandparents that much.” She turned to watch out the side window.

When we reached home, I found a note from my parents. They’d left for an evening out with friends.

“Hey, Susanna,” I shouted up the stairs. “There’s enough time left to get in a good training ride. I think I’ll head out.”

She appeared on the landing outside the apartment. “Certainly, Mark. I shall have a meal awaiting you when you return.”

As I rolled down the driveway, I looked back over my shoulder. She watched from the bay window at the front of the house.

I frowned at the sky as I headed onto the main trail into Umstead. Black clouds boiled in the distance. Maybe not such a long training ride after all.

The first clap of thunder sent me home, which pissed me off because I had a lot of pent-up energy after a day climbing up and down the stepladder, and I really needed to work it off.

As I jogged up the stairs to the second floor, I pulled my jersey over my head, and then tossed it onto the bathroom floor in passing. After grabbing a towel from the linen closet, I was just reaching for the shower faucets when I heard a noise coming from my room.

That was weird. It had to be Susanna, and that meant she was breaking one of my parents’ major rules:
Susanna may not go into Mark’s bedroom for any reason
.

It was a stupid rule and, for most kids I knew, completely unenforceable unless we were total idiots. Yet my parents had made it, and Susanna and I had stuck to it—
because of her
. What had happened to make her break it now?

I crossed the hall and stood in the doorway. Susanna was rifling through the top drawer of my dresser.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Her head jerked up, her face and neck flaming red. “What is this?” She held up a condom.

She wasn’t going to distract me from the main point, which was why she’d invaded my bedroom—my privacy—and risked whatever happened if my folks caught her. “I’ll answer after you tell me why you’re in here.”

“Is it one of those items gentlemen use to prevent pregnancy?”

Shit. “Yes, it is. How do you know about that?”

“Norah has magazines.” She held it up with one hand as she slammed the drawer shut with the other. “Why do you have these?”

Double shit. “Obviously, to prevent pregnancy.”

Her face appeared sickly pale in the dim light of the room. “Have you ever…?”

“Had sex?”

She nodded.

I would rather have put my fist through the wall than have
that
conversation right now. “I have.”

She swayed on her feet. “With whom?”

“I’m not getting into this with you—”

“Were you with Alexis?”

I pressed my lips together. Alexis McChord was the only girl I’d ever really dated. Why was Susanna putting herself through this?

“Perhaps you should have a shirt on while we talk.”

I crossed my arms over my bare chest and leaned against the threshold. “Maybe you should tell me why you’re in my room.”

She placed the condom on the end of my bed and walked to the door. I braced my hand on the opposite side of the doorframe, blocking her path.

“What were you looking for, Susanna? It had to be huge to break a rule.”

She stared straight ahead. “I do not wish to say. Now please let me pass.”

“There’s nothing in that drawer except briefs and socks.”

“And those items.”

It was all I could do to keep from grinding my teeth. “They’re called condoms.”

“You have never asked me,” she whispered.

“Asked you what?”

“To go to bed with you.” She ducked under my arm and disappeared down the hall.

* * *

The storm passed and left behind a clean, earthy scent. The sun had already faded, leaving a silver-white glow on the western horizon, which showed the tall pines in the clear black and white of an Ansel Adams photo.

I wanted to go to her, to finish the conversation that I hated we’d started. To coax her into telling me why she’d invaded my room.

But I wasn’t sure what to say. What to ask. How to answer.

I walked into the kitchen, the tiles cool against my bare feet, and looked around. A movement on the deck caught my eye. Susanna was out there, standing beside the brick fireplace. She’d changed clothes.

I joined her. “Hey.”

She spun around, her hair fanning loosely around her shoulders. I got a whiff of rose shampoo.

“Hello, Mark.”

“Drying your hair out here?”

She nodded.

“I love you, Susanna.”

“I love you.”

Marissa always talked about how love felt like melting and tingling. It didn’t for me. I felt strong. Tough. Caveman and fierce. When I reached for Susanna, she launched herself, her arms winding tightly about my neck.

Holy shit, she smelled amazing. Felt amazing. “Susanna?”

“Yes?”

I ran a hand down her spine until it reached the small of her back. I pressed her hard against me. “Do you know what that is?”

She shivered. “Yes.”

“I want you. Okay?” I kissed her hair, her temple. “I haven’t asked because it’s not right for you yet. Which means it’s not right for
us
.”

She nodded against my neck.

“Look at me.”

She leaned back until I could see the glittering pools of her eyes. “Yes?”

“You have to be the one who asks.”

“Why?”

“I have to know that it’s what you want. If you ask, I’ll be sure.”

Her gaze dropped to my chin. She looked calm, but her breathing quickened. “What if it takes a long time?”

“Then we wait.”

Her gaze snapped back up to mine, only this time her look made
me
breathe faster. “I doubt I shall ever be that brave.”

“You will be with me.”

Her lips parted. I took that as an invitation to kiss them.

I loved the feel of her mouth under mine. I loved the way she tried to give back. It wasn’t enough, but it wouldn’t be much longer before it was too much. I wrapped her in my arms and swayed to music that only we could hear. Without even coming up for air, I slow-danced with her on the deck. Susanna was an eager student.

This was a gorgeous moment. That other question would have to wait for another day.

* * *

My folks and Susanna headed to church Sunday morning, while I went out for a training ride. I got back before they did, so I worked on my room. It hadn’t been aired out since last week. Even I could detect the funky smell. Clothes and sheets went into the washing machine. Then a quick vacuum. When I turned the vacuum off, I saw my dad standing in the hall outside my room. Good. I got bonus points for being caught in the act of cleaning my room. I couldn’t have planned it better.

“Didn’t mean to disturb you,” Dad said.

“No problem. Is there something you needed?”

“Your mom says you might want to take a look at Newman College.”

“You know about Newman?”

“Yeah, it has a good reputation. Do you want to take a look at it the same weekend as the Hungry Mother race? It’s a bit farther than Virginia Tech, but we could visit while we’re in the area.”

“Sure. That’d be great.”

He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Where have you booked a room?”

“Nowhere.” I’d completely forgotten. It was my responsibility to make reservations for a place to stay, and I hadn’t done a thing yet.

His face tightened. “I thought we agreed…”

“We did, but I haven’t.”

“If it coincides with an open-house weekend for Virginia Tech, everything decent within miles might be booked by now.”

“Then we’ll stay further out.” Not sure what was worse—my attitude, or just admitting I’d forgotten.

“No skin off my back, Mark. If you’ve screwed this up, I’ll be happy to blame you.”

“Thank you.” I hated when my father went all rational on me. It made me feel like a child.

“Have you at least registered us for the race?”

“No.”

“So you’ve done nothing more than think about that weekend?”

I nodded.

“All right. Let me know when you’re serious about college, and we’ll talk again.”

Serious about college?

What did he mean? I
was
serious. There was a whole lot going on right now for me to think about. This conversation was just bad timing. “Wait, Dad.”