into the Pacific. Sunset.
Jeez, she’d been
out cold for a good three hours! How had that happened? Did the sea air and
nautical decor give her some kind of peace after all? Something else she had
trouble finding in smoggy L.A.? Because she couldn’t remember the last time
she’d slept so well.
In the silence
of her room, her stomach’s sudden gurgle blared a fanfare, and she placed a
palm flat against her abdomen. Bubbles fluttered through her flesh. No pain
now. She was hungry. Go figure. Who would’ve thought, with all the abuse she’d
suffered at the hospital, she’d regain her appetite after a nap? Too bad she
couldn’t count on Sean to make good on his promise to buy dinner. That was the
problem with dreams and dead people. Both were totally unreliable.
Finding her robe
on the chair in the corner, she slipped her arms into the satin sleeves and
wrapped herself in sleek comfort. She headed out of the bedroom and downstairs,
reaching the first landing before Tony spotted her.
“What are you
doing out of bed?” He stood on the first floor, fists planted on his beefy
hips, a frown etched on his scruffy face.
“I’m hungry.”
The frown
flipped to a hopeful grin. “You are? Really? That’s great.” He leaned into the
hall that led to the kitchen area. “You hear that, Justin? Our girl is hungry.”
“Dinner will be
ready in ten minutes,” Justin called out. “I’ll bring you up a tray.”
“I’d rather
rejoin the living, if that’s okay with you,” she called back as she descended
to the first floor.
“Good for you.”
Tony winked at her. When she reached him, he pulled her into a bear hug and
whispered, “I threw out my Marlboros, too.”
She squeezed his
waist. “Good for you . And Justin.”
“We’ll see.”
Releasing her, he crossed his fingers. “So long as I have you to keep me
honest.” He flipped his hand to raise a solo pinky. “Secrets for life. Solemn
oath?”
Secrets for
life. Her heart cracked. How quickly would he reach for a cigarette when he
learned her body lay cold and lifeless? She shivered.
Tony cuddled her
close again. “You sure you’re strong enough to be down here?”
“Uh-huh. I need
distraction,” she admitted. “If I stay upstairs with nothing but my own stupid
thoughts…” No need for him to know where those thoughts might lead.
“Fair enough.”
He drew her forward. “Come sit in the den. You can watch television while you
eat. God knows, the idiot box always distracts me.”
She allowed him to
lead her into the rear of the house where amber light spilled from patina-aged
torchiere lamps decorated with Cupids. If her bedroom was the Barbie beach
house, this den, with ornate antique furniture, pumpkin-striped wallpaper, and
the sting of mothballs from the corner closet screamed, “Grandma’s bordello.”
While she settled on the lumpy, satin-covered lounge chair, Tony picked up the
remote control from a marble-topped round table and clicked the power button.
The big-screen television, incongruous among the gilt and mahogany, sang to
life, smearing a rainbow of pastel colors over the patterned walls. The
familiar jingle for an entertainment news show erupted from the ceiling-mounted
speakers, and Tony flicked the channel away.
“No.” She held
up a hand. “Go back.”
“No,” Justin
shouted. She turned to see him in the doorway, a tray filled with
sterling-lidded dishes in his hands. His frown plunged the room’s temperature
to arctic levels. “I won’t have that poison in this house.”
Yeah, right.
Naked Cupids, swaths of silk, and ugly furniture were all welcome. But a lousy
gossip show on television? Quick! Call the Good Taste Police! Swallowing the
sarcasm took several huge gulps, but she managed to sound contrite when she
pleaded, “Five minutes, please, binky? I need to see it.”
“No, you don’t.
You know exactly what they’re going to say. And you don’t need that kind of
bile right now.” Balancing the tray on
Jeez, she’d been
out cold for a good three hours! How had that happened? Did the sea air and
nautical decor give her some kind of peace after all? Something else she had
trouble finding in smoggy L.A.? Because she couldn’t remember the last time
she’d slept so well.
In the silence
of her room, her stomach’s sudden gurgle blared a fanfare, and she placed a
palm flat against her abdomen. Bubbles fluttered through her flesh. No pain
now. She was hungry. Go figure. Who would’ve thought, with all the abuse she’d
suffered at the hospital, she’d regain her appetite after a nap? Too bad she
couldn’t count on Sean to make good on his promise to buy dinner. That was the
problem with dreams and dead people. Both were totally unreliable.
Finding her robe
on the chair in the corner, she slipped her arms into the satin sleeves and
wrapped herself in sleek comfort. She headed out of the bedroom and downstairs,
reaching the first landing before Tony spotted her.
“What are you
doing out of bed?” He stood on the first floor, fists planted on his beefy
hips, a frown etched on his scruffy face.
“I’m hungry.”
The frown
flipped to a hopeful grin. “You are? Really? That’s great.” He leaned into the
hall that led to the kitchen area. “You hear that, Justin? Our girl is hungry.”
“Dinner will be
ready in ten minutes,” Justin called out. “I’ll bring you up a tray.”
“I’d rather
rejoin the living, if that’s okay with you,” she called back as she descended
to the first floor.
“Good for you.”
Tony winked at her. When she reached him, he pulled her into a bear hug and
whispered, “I threw out my Marlboros, too.”
She squeezed his
waist. “Good for you . And Justin.”
“We’ll see.”
Releasing her, he crossed his fingers. “So long as I have you to keep me
honest.” He flipped his hand to raise a solo pinky. “Secrets for life. Solemn
oath?”
Secrets for
life. Her heart cracked. How quickly would he reach for a cigarette when he
learned her body lay cold and lifeless? She shivered.
Tony cuddled her
close again. “You sure you’re strong enough to be down here?”
“Uh-huh. I need
distraction,” she admitted. “If I stay upstairs with nothing but my own stupid
thoughts…” No need for him to know where those thoughts might lead.
“Fair enough.”
He drew her forward. “Come sit in the den. You can watch television while you
eat. God knows, the idiot box always distracts me.”
She allowed him to
lead her into the rear of the house where amber light spilled from patina-aged
torchiere lamps decorated with Cupids. If her bedroom was the Barbie beach
house, this den, with ornate antique furniture, pumpkin-striped wallpaper, and
the sting of mothballs from the corner closet screamed, “Grandma’s bordello.”
While she settled on the lumpy, satin-covered lounge chair, Tony picked up the
remote control from a marble-topped round table and clicked the power button.
The big-screen television, incongruous among the gilt and mahogany, sang to
life, smearing a rainbow of pastel colors over the patterned walls. The
familiar jingle for an entertainment news show erupted from the ceiling-mounted
speakers, and Tony flicked the channel away.
“No.” She held
up a hand. “Go back.”
“No,” Justin
shouted. She turned to see him in the doorway, a tray filled with
sterling-lidded dishes in his hands. His frown plunged the room’s temperature
to arctic levels. “I won’t have that poison in this house.”
Yeah, right.
Naked Cupids, swaths of silk, and ugly furniture were all welcome. But a lousy
gossip show on television? Quick! Call the Good Taste Police! Swallowing the
sarcasm took several huge gulps, but she managed to sound contrite when she
pleaded, “Five minutes, please, binky? I need to see it.”
“No, you don’t.
You know exactly what they’re going to say. And you don’t need that kind of
bile right now.” Balancing the tray on
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