Fade to Us by Julia Day

Fade to Us by Julia Day

Author:Julia Day
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press


18

Safe Topics

Natalie stomped into the den Saturday morning with her backpack slung over both shoulders.

I muted the TV and tried not to wince when Tigger kneaded my thigh. “Going somewhere?”

“Norah invited our group to go swimming with her.”

Wow. Norah was a saint. “Where?”

“Laurel Lake.”

“That can be good if it’s not crowded. So you’re going?”

“Clearly, since you basically asked the same question twelve words ago and I confirmed that I was. In case you’re wondering, I asked Dad.”

Keep the smile in place. She’s leaving soon. “I didn’t know you liked to swim.”

“I don’t. I’ll take my bathing suit anyway.”

“You could wear it under a T-shirt.”

“I don’t like the sensation of bathing suit fabric against my skin.” She opened her backpack. It held a towel, suit, sunscreen, bug spray, bottled water, and snack pack of crackers.

“You look ready. Do you need money?”

“I have my card.”

“The concession stand at Laurel Lake takes cash only.” I crawled down to the end of the couch, dislodging my cat, and rummaged in a drawer. “Here’s a ten.”

She stuffed it into her pocket and left the den. The front door banged behind her. Another twenty minutes passed before a car crunched to a stop in front of the house. Seconds later, it was speeding away.

Lucky for me. Natalie wouldn’t be home to ask questions when my friend got here.

* * *

Micah arrived promptly at one. I was at the curb before he had a chance to make it around the front of the car.

“You look nice,” he said.

“You do, too.” I gave him an exaggerated inspection. “I’ve never seen you in shorts before.”

“Not wise for the theater.” He opened my door for me, then ran back to the driver’s side and slipped inside.

“Do you need directions?”

“I have it in GPS.”

On the drive north to Raleigh, he steered the conversation to safe topics. The show, the backstage crew, the sound equipment. That was fine with me. I liked hearing him talk. Less than an hour later, we were pulling into the spillover lot at the park. Apparently, hundreds of other people had had the same idea as me.

Micah went to the ticket booth and bought a strip of ride tickets. “What would you like to do first?”

“The carousel.”

“Lead on.”

We did it all, at least everything that made sense for people our ages. We rode the carousel three times. The mini-train and the paddleboats once each. We listened to a country band in the amphitheater before hitting the snack bar. I loaded a tray and paid, while Micah found us an empty picnic table.

“What do we have?” he asked when I slid onto the bench across from him.

“Nachos, iced tea, and snickerdoodles.”

“I approve of your choices.”

“Thank you.” I let him tackle the nachos first because, hey, dessert. Initially, we focused on our personal food priorities in silence. But half a cookie later, I was ready to talk. “Are you game for an inquisition?”

“Sure,” he mumbled around a chip.

“What will you do after the show’s over?”

He sipped his drink before responding.



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