Operation: Normal (15 page)

"Do you have a washing machine?" I asked Zach once I wiped down Kayly's face and
hands and situated her in her walker. She immediately zoomed off to explore.

"In there." He nodded toward a room just off the kitchen.

"Mind if I borrow it? My stuff smells like smoke."

"Kayly's does, too. Why don't you go ahead and eat while I run a load. Do you want
everything in your bag washed?"

I started to nod, but caught myself. Zach did not need to handle my undies, particularly
my A-cup bras. So I did the honors, carefully dumping the contents of the bag and then the nylon
bag, itself, so that he couldn't really make out individual items. Zach threw in some of his and
Chase's things to complete a load. I have to admit I got the oddest feeling seeing my clothes
tangled up with theirs. It all felt shockingly intimate.

Soon the scent of Tide replaced the Baby Bath smell. I started to check on Kayly, now
rolling free in an apartment that hadn't been kid proofed. But Zach sent me back to the table with
a brisk, "Eat. I'll watch her."

What a guy.

I dug into my salad, which tasted heavenly, while Zach corralled Kayly back into the
kitchen. She fussed when he scotched her walker wheels with his foot.

"Do you have a plastic mixing bowl?" I asked Chase around a bite of lettuce and
cheese.

"Yeah."

"And a big spoon?"

He nodded.

"She loves to play drums."

With a laugh, Chase retrieved the needed items from the cabinet and gave them to
Kayly, who immediately began to pound out her frustrations with a big brother who might let her
rock, but wouldn't let her roll.

"Heath seems nice," said Zach, right out of the blue.

I nearly choked on my crouton. "He's okay."

"How long have you known him?"

"We only got friendly year before last, working together on a project at school."

Zach thought about that for a couple of seconds, frowning slightly. "So do you guys
hang out a lot?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." Where was he going with this?

"Do you think you should call and let him know you're okay?"

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed, tossing down my fork. "I'd better. He and Minka might stop
by the apartment or something." If they were still speaking to each other, that is.

I tried Heath first, making the call on my cell from the Zach's living room. I sat on his
tan corduroy couch, my gaze roving the room, which wasn't nearly as neat as the kitchen. I saw
stacks of sports magazines, at least three pairs of shoes per guy, some stray socks, and a pizza
box.

Other than that, it looked pretty good. I liked the two leather easy chairs, as well as the
big screen TV. Plus what looked like family photos on the walls. Was one of them of Kayly's
dad? I wondered, promising myself I'd sneak a peek later.

Since Heath never answered, I called Minka. She freaked, as expected, and wanted to
come over. I asked Zach if it was okay. He said he didn't mind.

We didn't do anything in particular for the next couple of hours. I did put the wash in the
dryer. Zach threw a quilt on the floor and got down on it with Kayly. At one point, I looked over
to see him flat on his back holding his baby sister up in the air directly over him. She squealed
her delight, which let some of her drool drip onto his bottom lip. I admit I tensed, thinking how
grossed out he'd be, but he just kept playing with her.

Now that's love.
I was oh so happy I'd rebelled against my mom and contacted
him.

Around two, Minka showed up. She hugged me forever, going on and on about how I
could've died from smoke inhalation, etc., etc. Finally I told her to give it a rest. I really didn't
want to think about it anymore. We joined the guys in the living room, where they watched
baseball on television. Kayly now slept on the quilt in the middle of the floor, oblivious to home
runs, incomprehensible beer commercials, and girl talk.

"So how was the date?" I asked, keeping my voice low so the guys couldn't hear every
word.

Minka took her cue from me and did the same. "Greg is a great guy..."

"But?" I softly prompted, sensing one of those.

"All I could think about was Heath. That's all your fault, you know."

"My fault?"

She nodded. "For saying he's in love with me."

"That's because he is."

"He hasn't said so."

"Maybe not to you."

She sort of gasped and grabbed my arm. "You mean he's said something to you?"

God, I hated being caught in the middle. On the one hand, I didn't want to betray Heath's
confidence. On the other, doing so could only help his cause, right? "Pretty much. Where is he,
by the way? I tried to call him awhile ago, but--"

"He's got a softball game this afternoon." She glanced at her watch. "Starts in thirty
minutes."

"And why aren't you there?"

"Because we argued the last time we were together. I get so sick of fighting with him,
you know? He can be such a butt sometimes."

"Then you should propose a truce. Today. Right after the game."

"You think?"

"I do," I told her, already picturing the two of them making up and making out. And
how cool would that be?

She glanced at her watch again. "I guess I could."

Please, please, please.

"Oh, what the heck!" Minka leapt to her feet. "You know if you're wrong about this, I'll
be back in a couple of hours, bawling my eyes out."

"I'm prepared to risk it."

Smiling, she dug into her purse and pulled out a small, gift wrapped box with a bow on
it, which she presented to me. "Happy birthday, by the way. I know it's really tomorrow, but I
have to go see my Aunt Bitsy--" She grimaced. "--and won't be able to see you then."

Beaming at her, I tore into the box and found a pair of gold hoop earrings.

"They're awesome!" I exclaimed, putting them on. Naturally we hugged again. She left a
few minutes later.

When I walked back to the living room, both guys were looking at me. "What?"

"Tomorrow is your birthday?" Zach asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, that sucks."

"Huh?"

"You should be having a party or something. Instead, you're stuck here with the sorry
likes of us."

I had to laugh. If he only knew how much I preferred being stuck there with him than
hosting a party. "At least Mom will be home for the tail end of it."

"Yeah, thanks to someone threatening your life. I wonder if Sergeant Pitt has made any
progress on solving that little mystery."

"He has my number. Surely he'll call if he does." I sat down on the couch again, my
thoughts zigzagging from Sergeant Pitt to Dad to Adele and back to Dad. I wondered if he'd been
in contact with her and impulsively grabbed my cell from the coffee table. This time she
answered.

"Adele?"

"No. This is her neighbor, Amy Walsh. Who is this?"

I told her.

"Oh, hi, Ally. I was just feeding Petra. Adele's at Brackenridge Hospital in the ICU. A
stroke, we think. Next visiting hours are at six this evening."

The second I flipped the phone shut and stuck it in my pocket, I turned to Zach. "I really
hate to ask this--I mean you've done so much already--but would you do me one more
favor?"

* * * *

Chase called his girlfriend, Becca, to come over and help him watch Kayly for us. She
told me she had three younger siblings and lots of experience, so I felt okay with leaving my
sister with them when Zach and I went to the hospital.

I told him a little about Adele on the way, explaining how she made her living doing
psychic readings and how I'd just found out that she and dad were related. He instantly went all
serious and asked if Dad was psychic, too. I told him what Adele had said earlier in the week
about how my dad and she communicated. Zach didn't say much to that, which didn't surprise
me. The whole thing must have sounded pretty unbelievable.

Adele looked terribly pale, I thought, but had her eyes open and clearly recognized me.
In fact, she actually motioned for us to come closer to her bed. Then she tried to tell me
something. But her words came out all crazy. I didn't know whether to blame whatever drugs
they'd given her or actual brain damage, a thought that upset me terribly.

Finally, visibly frustrated, she mimed writing with a pen, which prompted me to dig one
out of my purse. I handed it to her, along with a pad of rainbow colored paper. She painstakingly
wrote out something and handed everything back to me.

Clint says stay with Zach.

I gasped and dropped the pad. Zach immediately snatched it up and read it. I heard his
sharp intake of breath. We exchanged startled looks.

"But Dad doesn't even know about Zach," I said.

Eyes closed, my great-aunt didn't reply.

"Adele?" Careful not to disturb her IV, I took her hand in mine and gently stroked it,
hoping she'd look at me again. "Is Dad okay?"

Again, no answer. I glanced worriedly at Zach. He shrugged, clearly as uncertain as me
about what to do next.

That's when a nurse came bustling into the room. "Visitation is now over. You can come
back for ten minutes in four hours."

Four hours?

Zach as good as dragged me from the room and hustled me to the elevator. Neither of us
said a word as we rode down to the ground floor and walked to his car.

Once we got inside and buckled up, however, I turned on him. "There is no way in this
world that Dad could know about you."

"What if there's one out of this world?"

I frowned at him. "So you believed me when I told you my aunt and dad stay in touch
psychically when he's away?"

"Yeah. I admit that a week ago I wouldn't have, but now..."

"Now what?"

"Now I'm a little more open to the idea."

"Why? What changed your mind?"

"That voice in my head for one thing. But that's not important. What is important is the
fact that your aunt and dad are psychic." He started the engine, then gave me a speculative look.
"Are you psychic, too, by any chance?"

I tried to answer honestly without revealing too much. "I have, on occasion, known
when a certain someone is calling me."

"What someone?"

"My dad."

"How many occasions?"

"Both of them, actually."

"That's what I figured. Do you happen to know when anyone else is about to call?"

"I, er--"

Zach suddenly held up a hand, halting the admission I couldn't bring myself to make.
"Actually... Never mind. I don't think I can handle another X-File tonight."

Good. Because I wasn't ready to go there, either.

I glanced out the window at the city lights, frowning as I thought about Dad. If he'd
really sent me that message by Aunt A, then he was safe and sound. Right? Or could psychic
hook-ups be compromised, even skewed sometimes, depending on the mental state of the
messenger?

"I've been thinking about your dad a lot, I've decided he must be FBI or CIA," Zach
said, breaking the weighty silence.

"Possibly." I thought of the list I'd started for Dad, then I remembered where my diary
was: in the drawer beside Mom's bed in our apartment.

I grabbed Zach's arm. "I forgot something at the apartment. Something important. Can
we run by there?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. And I need to stop by Wal-Mart."

By the time we got to the apartment, the clock on the nearby bank said 7:00 p.m. The
place seemed pretty dead for a Saturday night. Zach got a flashlight out of the glove box. We
rode the elevator up to five, where we encountered Esme and a man in the hallway. He looked
about her age or a little younger and had silver hair, dark eyes, and a beard. I guessed at once that
this was the famous Roy. Esme, her arm tucked through his, confirmed that by immediately
introducing him.

"Nice to meet you," I said, then focused on Esme. "What are you two doing up
here?"

"I wanted to show Roy what a mess the apartment was. He can't believe what a narrow
escape we had."

Though I didn't particularly want a stranger in the apartment, I didn't know how to
refuse. "Well, you timed it just right. We're headed there now, though I don't know how much
you'll be able to see by flashlight."

"Oh, we've already looked."

My heart shifted into another gear. "How'd you get in?"

"Mr. Stanley. I told him I needed my bag. In all the confusion this morning, I forgot to
get it."

That's when I noticed that Roy carried Esme's zebra print case. I also saw that he had a
big flashlight tucked in his jacket pocket.

"Oh. Okay," I murmured, the next second remembering that Zach changed out the locks
three days ago. "But he doesn't have a key."

"I know, dear. Luckily, he's a locksmith, so he didn't have a bit of trouble letting us
in."

I tried to think of a response to that, but my brain had lost communication with my
tongue.

"We're sort of in a hurry," said Zach, taking my hand, "so we can't visit. You two have a
nice evening."

"Thanks," said Roy. He guided Esme to the elevator while Zach nudged me in the
direction of the apartment.

My hand shook so badly I couldn't get the key in the lock. Zach took it from me,
unlocked the door, and tugged me inside. He flicked on his flashlight before shutting the door
behind us.

"If he took anything, we'll never know it."

"So you don't trust him, either?"

"To be honest, I'm not even sure I trust Esme."

"I think she's okay, at least as far as trustworthiness goes. I'm beginning to doubt her
judgment, though."

"Why don't we talk about this in the car?" Zach looked around. "This place gives me the
heebie jeebies."

Heebie jeebies
? He had to be kidding.

Though I could've walked the apartment blindfolded, I made Zach come with me to
Mom's room, where I grabbed the diary. In less than five minutes, we stood by the elevator,
waiting for it to come back up.