The Invisible Husband of Frick Island by Colleen Oakley

Author:Colleen Oakley [Oakley, Colleen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-05-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

A cool breeze blew through the open window in Anders’s room on the second floor of the bed-and-breakfast. The temperature, for once, was perfect. The bed, comfortable. Anders had even gotten used to the dead quiet of the nights, but he still couldn’t sleep. He should have been on cloud nine for finally getting to interview Piper. It was nothing mind-blowing, of course, but it was a step in the right direction to make the next episode better. Problem was, Anders wasn’t entirely sure he should make another episode. When he started, Piper had been a subject; an interesting character in an improbable story. But something changed on the beach, and instead of a character, a subject, he started seeing her for what she was—a person. An insect-loving person who was suffering from a bizarre delusional disorder and had terrible taste in Girl Scout cookies (everyone knew Do-si-dos were superior), but a person nonetheless. And being less than honest with her about the main focus of his reporting had grown from a pit in his stomach to a bowling ball. People were starting to lose interest anyway, he reasoned, and it wasn’t as if he had some new bombshell to add to the story. Perhaps it was time to move on.

Except, Anders didn’t want to move on. And therein lay the rub.

When the long hand of the clock ticked to 12:42, tired of tossing and turning, Anders slipped out of bed and stood at the dark window. The moon bathed the calm bay waters in a stroke of broken white light. And Anders had the sudden urge to be closer to it. To see it without the barrier of the window. He shoved his bare feet in his canvas slip-ons and opened the door to his room, stopping abruptly when the hinges let out a loud squeaky groan. He strained to hear any movement, and after deciding it was safe, he pulled on the door again, but this time moved at a glacial pace. When he finally eked open a large enough crack to pass through, he crept out into the carpeted hallway, then down the stairs.

It wasn’t only that he didn’t want to wake anyone. It felt clandestine—to be out and about this late. As if there were a curfew on the island and he was breaking it.

Once outside, he crossed the dark one-lane road that ran in front of the bed-and-breakfast and stepped onto the grass on the other side of it, walking up to the edge where the water kissed the land. As he stood there, in his plaid pajama pants and a worn T-shirt emblazoned with the logo of his college newspaper, staring at the glittering water and inhaling the briny air tempered with the scent of earthy grass, he tried to clear his mind but found it impossible.

A breeze came off the water, tugging at him, and Anders tore himself away from the view and followed it, thinking a walk might be just what he needed to help him sleep.

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