Sanctuary Cove by Rochelle Alers

Author:Rochelle Alers [Alers, Rochelle]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FIC027020
ISBN: 9781455506385
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2012-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Light had brightened the sky, heralding the dawn of a new day. Deborah woke to the sound of knocking and someone calling her name. It sounded as if they were in a tunnel.

“Mom, may I come in?”

Rolling over, Deborah sat up. Not only was she incredibly thirsty, but her mouth felt as if it was filled with cotton.

“Oh!” she moaned. She’d slept in her clothes—something she’d never done.

“Mom, open the door.”

“Hold on. I’m coming.” Sliding off the bed, Deborah shuffled over to the door and opened it. The look on her daughter’s face was something she would take to her grave. It was etched with fear as tears trickled down Crystal’s face. “What’s the matter, baby?”

Crystal fell against her mother, nearly making her lose her footing. “I’ve been banging on the door and calling you for almost five minutes.”

Deborah, rubbing Crystal’s back in an attempt to console her, kissed her daughter’s cheek. “I was asleep.”

“Why… why did you lock your door?”

Blinking, Deborah tried remembering when she’d locked the door. She couldn’t. “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “Why are you crying?”

Crystal sniffled, wiping the back of her hand over her face. “I thought you’d hurt yourself.”

Lowering her arms, Deborah made her way toward the en suite bath. “Come and talk to me while I wash my face and brush my teeth.”

“I have to wash my face, too.”

Deborah stood at the double-sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She looked a hot mess! If she’d been Sallie Ann Williams she would’ve said she looked a “dog’s mess.” When she’d asked her grandmother what she meant by a dog’s mess, her response had been she didn’t know, but had grown up hearing people on the island mutter it whenever they disapproved of what someone looked like or wore.

Smudged mascara, eyeliner, and what had been a smoky shadow now made her look like a raccoon. Her eyes were a little red and her bed hair looked as if she’d been made love to. A blush darkened her cheeks when she thought of waking up in bed beside Asa. No doubt if she had, she wouldn’t be in her clothes. She didn’t want to think about her clothes: Her blouse was a mass of wrinkles and creases and the wool gabardine slacks Deborah had just picked up from the drycleaner would have to go back again.

Reaching for her toothbrush, she squeezed a glob of toothpaste on the bristles. With the flick of a switch the vibrating bristles spread the foaming paste over her teeth and gums. Deborah winked at Crystal, who after splashing water on her face had blotted it with a towel from an ample supply stacked on a low table. She swished a cupful of minty mouthwash around in her mouth, depositing it in the sink before applying a thick layer of cold cream around her eyes and over her face, gently wiping away the makeup with a soft, moist cloth.

Meeting Crystal’s puffy eyes in the mirror, she drew a wide-tooth comb through her hair.

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