short months ago, but now their significance had faded.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but it just wasn’t happening. I may as well start getting ready for tonight . I’d just grabbed a towel when something behind me started tapping and scratching. I tiptoed to the window and pulled back the curtain. I wasn’t at all surprised to see my feathered friend sitting on my windowsill. This time I stared back at him. The crow angled his head and glared back at me with his winking eye. I stuck my tongue out at him and went in for a shower.
Feeling refreshed, I got dressed in my soft, comfy jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Then I slicked on a little black mascara and pink lip gloss and threw myself back onto my bed to do my math homework while I waited for Dad to get home.
At six forty-five I heard the key in the front door.
“Megan, are you ready?” Dad called into my room as he passed. “I’m just going to change my shirt and we’ll go, all right?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m ready.” I grabbed my purse and went downstairs to wait for him.
He was down in double-time, smelling nice and his face flushed.
“Ohhh, you’re putting in an extra effort tonight, Dad,” I teased him.
“No more than usual,” he said, carefully inspecting his reflection in the hall mirror.
“Yeah, sure.” I gave him a sidelong look.
There was obviously something very appealing about this restaurant, and I had a feeling it wasn’t the crab cakes. As we pulled away from our house, I looked back. The crow was perched on the highest point of our roof, watching me leave. Was that bird really following me? No. That was insane; birds didn’t stalk people. I pushed the thought out of my head.
The restaurant was lovely, quaint, and totally jam-packed. The food was amazing. Too bad the people surrounding us were so dull. They were bigwigs in town: the superintendent from the Kinsale Gardaí (the Irish police), who, at seven feet tall, towered over us all; as well as the owners of the various town shops and businesses. Killian’s mom and dad were there (Caitlin would be seething that she missed this one). Then there was the owner of the restaurant, Petra Van Meulder. Judging by all my dad’s excessive laughing and beaming, she was the object of his extra efforts.
To be fair, she was lovely and really pretty. Petra told me she was from Holland and that she had come to Ireland to forget a bad divorce and never went home. I appreciated that she was making an extra effort to include me in their conversation, but I couldn’t help feeling like a third wheel. It was great to see Dad actually getting a life, and I wanted to leave them to it. We were just finishing up the meal and thinking of ordering dessert when I saw an opportunity to escape.
I nudged my dad. “Do you mind if I go for a walk?”
“Meg, it’s late. I don’t think so.”
“Caleb, let her go for a walk. It’s very safe around here, and she’s well able to look after herself,” Petra said, giving me an understanding smile.
My dad caved. “Okay, but stay close and don’t be too long, okay?”
“I won’t. I’m just going to wander down to the marina.”
I stepped out into the night air and filled my lungs with a deep, fresh breath. I exhaled slowly, looking up at the stars, and then started walking along the waterline. The yachts swayed gently where they were moored, creating a musical tinkling sound. I punched in the code to the jetty at the marina and opened the gate. Finally I found a secluded spot and sat down between two big yachts. I let my feet dangle over the edge, toward the water. Funny, it didn’t look scary at night. In fact, it had an almost magical quality in the dark.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice the person gliding quietly up the gangway in my direction. The flat, calm water shimmered and pulsated, then rose slightly up, as if there was something just below the surface. I watched in amazement as the water
I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but it just wasn’t happening. I may as well start getting ready for tonight . I’d just grabbed a towel when something behind me started tapping and scratching. I tiptoed to the window and pulled back the curtain. I wasn’t at all surprised to see my feathered friend sitting on my windowsill. This time I stared back at him. The crow angled his head and glared back at me with his winking eye. I stuck my tongue out at him and went in for a shower.
Feeling refreshed, I got dressed in my soft, comfy jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Then I slicked on a little black mascara and pink lip gloss and threw myself back onto my bed to do my math homework while I waited for Dad to get home.
At six forty-five I heard the key in the front door.
“Megan, are you ready?” Dad called into my room as he passed. “I’m just going to change my shirt and we’ll go, all right?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m ready.” I grabbed my purse and went downstairs to wait for him.
He was down in double-time, smelling nice and his face flushed.
“Ohhh, you’re putting in an extra effort tonight, Dad,” I teased him.
“No more than usual,” he said, carefully inspecting his reflection in the hall mirror.
“Yeah, sure.” I gave him a sidelong look.
There was obviously something very appealing about this restaurant, and I had a feeling it wasn’t the crab cakes. As we pulled away from our house, I looked back. The crow was perched on the highest point of our roof, watching me leave. Was that bird really following me? No. That was insane; birds didn’t stalk people. I pushed the thought out of my head.
The restaurant was lovely, quaint, and totally jam-packed. The food was amazing. Too bad the people surrounding us were so dull. They were bigwigs in town: the superintendent from the Kinsale Gardaí (the Irish police), who, at seven feet tall, towered over us all; as well as the owners of the various town shops and businesses. Killian’s mom and dad were there (Caitlin would be seething that she missed this one). Then there was the owner of the restaurant, Petra Van Meulder. Judging by all my dad’s excessive laughing and beaming, she was the object of his extra efforts.
To be fair, she was lovely and really pretty. Petra told me she was from Holland and that she had come to Ireland to forget a bad divorce and never went home. I appreciated that she was making an extra effort to include me in their conversation, but I couldn’t help feeling like a third wheel. It was great to see Dad actually getting a life, and I wanted to leave them to it. We were just finishing up the meal and thinking of ordering dessert when I saw an opportunity to escape.
I nudged my dad. “Do you mind if I go for a walk?”
“Meg, it’s late. I don’t think so.”
“Caleb, let her go for a walk. It’s very safe around here, and she’s well able to look after herself,” Petra said, giving me an understanding smile.
My dad caved. “Okay, but stay close and don’t be too long, okay?”
“I won’t. I’m just going to wander down to the marina.”
I stepped out into the night air and filled my lungs with a deep, fresh breath. I exhaled slowly, looking up at the stars, and then started walking along the waterline. The yachts swayed gently where they were moored, creating a musical tinkling sound. I punched in the code to the jetty at the marina and opened the gate. Finally I found a secluded spot and sat down between two big yachts. I let my feet dangle over the edge, toward the water. Funny, it didn’t look scary at night. In fact, it had an almost magical quality in the dark.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice the person gliding quietly up the gangway in my direction. The flat, calm water shimmered and pulsated, then rose slightly up, as if there was something just below the surface. I watched in amazement as the water
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