Operation: Normal (11 page)

"Look, I know that you probably hate me--"

"I don't hate you!" That emotion honestly wasn't one of the zillion currently
overwhelming me.

"Then you're an angel and not the bright, beautiful seventeen-year-old I thought you
were."

That comment took my breath. Was he saying he somehow knew something about me,
the daughter he'd never even met?

"Why are you calling?"

"To find out how you are." His voice sounded jerky, like he might be driving on a
bumpy road, and I could hear the whine of an engine in the background.

"I'm fine," I answered. "Just like I was the last time you called and all the times you
didn't." No way was I going to tell him about the threat letter and what had happened to the
apartment.

"Good. Now I need to speak to Kat. I've called her at least ten times, but she's not
answering. Why? Is she working or something?"

He still wanted to speak to Mom? A woman he hadn't talked to in, oh, my lifetime. As
far as I knew, anyway.

"She's actually out of the country."

"Yeah? Who's keeping your sister?"

He knew about Kayly? "It's a long sad story that boils down to me."

I heard a particularly loud thump, then the sound of an engine straining really hard.
"Okay, then. You'll have to do. I have something to tell you, something I'd rather say in person.
Unfortunately, that is not an option now."

I couldn't believe my ears. "I'm listening."

He hesitated. "This is going to sound crazy, but--"

Bang!

My dad cried out. The line went dead.

With a gasp, I sat up straight on the couch and yelled into my cell anyway. "Dad? Are
you okay? Dad!
Answer me
!"

Naturally I tried to call him back. I got nothing. Not even voice mail. I stared at the
phone in my hand in complete disbelief, tears filling my eyes. What could have happened?
What? Jumping up, I began to pace the room.

Who do I call? What do I say? I didn't even know where Dad was at the moment, much
less anything else about him.

Adele.

Her sweet face came to me in a flash, and I acted on impulse, dressing, then snatching
up Kayly and running out my door, headed to the elevator. Adele met us at the door and didn't
look a bit surprised by the visit, but she was the real deal, so undoubtedly knew we were
coming.

"Something's happened to my dad!" I blurted as I burst into her living room and almost
tripped on a throw rug. She clutched my arm to right me.

"How do you know?" she demanded.

I told her.

Adele didn't reply, instead releasing me to stand very still for a moment as if reading
celestial vibes. Her expression gave nothing away.

"Can you look in your crystal ball or something?" I prodded when she still didn't speak,
my voice quivering as much as my knees.

Putting her arm across my shoulders, Adele shut the door, then guided me into her cozy
kitchen. "Let me brew you some tea. That'll make you feel better."

Tea? At a time like this? "But I'm really scared."

"I know. I promise I'll do what I can to help, but first you've got to calm down so you
won't alarm Kayly."

"Right. Okay." I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then I did it again.

By that time I was sitting on one of the vinyl and chrome chairs of Adele's 1950s dinette
set, Kayly on my knee. While Adele made tea in slow motion, her cat, Petra, walked figure
eights around my ankles. Finally, Adele handed me a steaming cup. I sipped at it and noted a
mild apple taste.

"What is this?"

"Chamomile. It's good for stress. Now tell me what happened," she said, taking my
sister and sitting across from me.

I did, explaining that my MIA dad, whom she'd heard about before, had just called me
for the second time. I told her about the explosion and the line going dead.

"Ah," she said as if she suddenly understood something.

Without further comment, Adele got up and left the kitchen with Kayly. When she
returned, she had Tarot cards. While I'd never had a reading, I knew what they were, having seen
them in the movies. I felt a guilty thrill. Mom would not like this one bit.

Calmly Adele handed me my sister, then began shuffling the cards. She let me split the
deck, then began laying them on the table in front of her. She didn't say anything as she
methodically turned over one worn card after another. I watched her anxiously, looking for the
tiniest change in expression. But Adele still gave nothing away.

"Has something happened that I need to know about?" she finally asked, stacking the
cards and setting them aside. "Something regarding your apartment?"

Whoa. "Someone trashed it today. Probably the nanny I fired earlier this week. Did your
cards tell you that?"

"Actually, the cards hint at conflict that lies ahead."

"Involving my dad?"

"Your mom, I think."

That sounded about right. She and Zach were going to meet very, very soon. "But what
about Dad?"

Aunt A shook her head. "I'm not picking him up at all, Ally."

I gasped and jumped up. "You mean he's dead?"

"I mean he's not communicating with me."

I froze. "What do you mean 'communicating' with you?"

Adele sighed. "If Clint has called you twice, then it's probably okay for me to tell you
everything."

Everything? For some reason my stomach knotted. "I-I don't understand."

"Clint Wilson is my youngest sister's son. For the past sixteen years, I've kept an eye on
you and given him regular psychic updates."

I could barely breathe. "You're my aunt?"

"Great aunt, yes."

"Does mom know?"

"No."

"And you have a relationship with my dad?"

"Clint is my favorite nephew."

I plopped down on the chair to keep from falling on the floor.

"Well, the least you could've done is said something," I as good as yelled. I don't know
when I'd felt so, well, stupid, not to mention betrayed. "I might've wanted to know how he was
doing, too."

"I'll remember that."

Since Kayly had been startled into bawling, I began to bounce her on my knee. In a
matter of seconds I wished I hadn't raised my voice at Adele. "I'm sorry. I didn't... I mean I
haven't..." I tried again. "Could he be hurt?"

"I just don't know, dear. Have you tried searching your own feelings?"

"Me?"

"You are the daughter of a gifted psychic."

I was? "But I don't know how."

"Just think of him and tell me what you feel."

I tried. I really did. I closed my eyes and thought of my dad so hard that I began to
sweat. When I looked at Aunt A again, I found her watching me intently.

"Well?" she asked.

"I'm sorry. This is a little too Obi-Wan for me."

She smiled. "Try again later, when you're not so worked up. Meanwhile, don't let worry
consume you."

That's easier said than done
. I gathered up my keys and left. Just as Kayly and
I reached our apartment, Mom called me back. I went to the kitchen, Kayly on my hip, while
Mom told me her flight schedule. She planned to board a plane at Heathrow Sunday morning and
arrive in Austin late that night. I did not mention Dad, Adele, or the Tarot cards.

Once I finished with Mom, I called Zach to tell him her plans.

"Hello?" he said, sounding distinctly...odd.

"It's Ally. Mom's flying in on Sunday."

He didn't answer.

"Zach?"

"I'm here."

"Did you get that?"

"Yes. Your mom will be back Sunday."

"Right."

Another silence.

"Zach?"

"Still here."

"Oh." What was wrong with the guy? I wondered. "Did I call too late? Were you
asleep?"

"No."

"Oh." What a conversation! Baffled, I wished I hadn't phoned him. He'd given me most
of his day, after all. I suddenly felt like the world's biggest pest and hoped he wouldn't hold my
neediness against Kayly. I mean, none of this was her fault. "Well, you must be as tired as me, so
I'll let you go."

"Okay."

"'Night, Zach."

"Goodnight."

Could things have been any weirder?

I wished I could say Kayly and I slept great Thursday night, but that would be a lie.
Instead, my baby sister woke up every hour on the hour, beginning at around midnight. I was
pretty sure her tummy hurt, but it was so hard to know for sure. It wasn't as if she could tell me
what the problem was.

I did what I could--patted her on the back, bounced her, rocked her, even sang to her.
Nothing worked for more than a couple of minutes, so we went through a sleep-wake-cry cycle
all night. I felt for my mom, a single parent who'd surely done this on many occasions with both
her daughters.

By the time the two of us finally slept at all it was morning, and I had to get up. Achy
and brain dead, I started to call Zach to cancel, but didn't dare. I might never see him again if I
did. He'd acted so odd on the phone the night before. I couldn't imagine what was going through
that head of his.

When he knocked on our door around 8:45, I peeked through the peep hole to be sure it
was him, then called out his name, thinking he would appreciate the extra security.

"Zach?"

"It's me."

I opened the door. He stepped inside and immediately took the baby from my arms. He
raised Kayly to the ceiling, which made her laugh, then lowered her and kissed both her cheeks
as if nothing had changed, and he hadn't acted a bit strange the last time I talked to him.

"Would you watch her while I finish getting ready?" I asked, noting what he wore so I
could dress accordingly. Today he'd chosen jeans, a David Gray T-shirt and his usual Docs.
Casual was good, I thought. Especially today. "She's not feeling well, so I haven't been able to
put her down for a single second all morning."

"Sure," he answered, frowning thoughtfully as he looked closer at her. He felt of her
forehead, something I'd done several times during the night.

"Hot?" I asked.

"Not particularly. How warm does fever feel?"

"You're asking me? I guess we could take her temperature, but we'd have to use a rectal
thermometer. We don't have one of those digital ear ones."

He cringed. "That's child abuse."

Laughing, I headed to my bedroom to pick out something to wear from the few clothes I
had left. Feeling like I did--tired, out of sorts, and worried about everything--I should probably
have canceled our plans and just stayed home. I needed to get out, however, so put on my
make-up and gelled my hair as before. When I glanced in the mirror for the first time, I saw dark
circles under my eyes, undoubtedly from fatigue. No amount of make-up would hide them, I
knew, but that wasn't all bad. At least I wouldn't have trouble looking my age today.

Shortly after nine, we left for our first appointment with Carol Whitley. I liked the gated
neighborhood a lot, based on our first drive-through. There was a swimming pool that members
of the property owners' association could use, so knew there would be some kind of annual fee
for upkeep. After writing down the address of the house in question on another page in my
notepad, I made two columns and wrote "pool" on the plus side and "fees?" on the minus
side.

Carol, after greeting us outside a two-story brick house, asked how I was, which made
me think I must look even worse than I suspected. I made some excuse about Kayly not sleeping
and me being up all night.

"You two should alternate shifts when the baby's sick," she said, adding, "That's what
my husband and I always do."

"Zach sleeps really sound," I lied since I couldn't think of anything intelligent to
say.

"That doesn't mean you can't wake me, babe," he said, words that brought heat to my
cheeks and made my knees wobbly. It didn't help that he draped his arm over my shoulders like a
caring husband.

I gulped and ducked away. "I'll remember that the next time I'm wandering the
apartment at midnight."

Though innocent enough, that conversation implied disconcerting intimacy. Stepping
out of myself, I tried to see what Carol must see today: a tall, handsome young man carrying an
utterly precious baby and a short, baby-faced redhead with dark circles under her eyes and
flushed cheeks. How she ever believed a guy like Zach would marry a girl like me, I did not
know.

But apparently she did, and so graciously escorted us through the house, which I loved
from shingle right down to doorknob. My excitement must've shown on my face.

"Good?" Zach softly whispered.

"Excellent," I corrected as quietly. For just a second our gazes locked, and I swear I felt
a jolt that went clear to my toes. Zach sort of coughed and looked away, which made me wonder
if he felt it, too.

Though Carol offered to drive us to the next possible, we opted to follow her there
because of the car seat. This house, constructed of rock and siding, was located in a different
neighborhood and had a lot of good features, too. Just as we drove up to the last house, my head
started to pound. It was one of those
now-you-have-it!
headaches that sometimes arrived
without warning, to pulse right above my right eye. I did my best to ignore it while we walked
through the place, but by the time we finished, I struggled to thank Carol, who'd been more than
nice and very, very patient.

I didn't think Zach noticed my misery. But the second we got into the car for the last
time, he turned to me. "What's wrong?"

"Headache," I admitted.

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"No. I was running a little late due to the whole not-sleeping thing, and then I had to
feed Kayly and get her ready--"

"Then you definitely need to strap on a feed bag. How does Burger King sound?"

"I'm really not hungry."

Without comment, Zach started the engine and drove us straight there.

"What do you want?" he asked, braking by the drive-through menu.