Black Bird of the Gallows(56)
I do get through the week without more embarrassing episodes. Friday afternoon after school, I sit at home with my dad, eating pizza on paper plates. He’s eyeballing the mozzarella cheese with suspicion, making me think the you-only-live-once mood is wearing off. I suspect the dairy-fest we’ve been having is about to expire.
Dad slants a look at the window. “Read an article that said we’re having record rainfall this month. Warmer than usual, too.” He shrugs. “Better than snow, I guess.”
I follow his gaze to the rain-smeared window and shiver under a ripple of unease. “Hey, Dad, in that article you read, did they say anything about flooding?”
He squints up at me. “You’re worried about a flood? We’re too high up for that.”
We are. Our house is one of many dotting the face of Mt. Franklin. The gentle, sloping mountain was once mined for coal, but now enjoys state park status and fancy neighborhoods like ours. In contrast, there’s Mt. Serenity, sitting across the valley and backing up to the lake also bearing the name. Serenity remains wild and uninhabited since mining was halted in the 1960s. It isn’t considered stable enough to be granted permits for building.
“I know our house isn’t in a flood zone,” I say, “but the valley is so low. And with all this rainfall, and how warm it’s been, are they worried about…anything else happening?”
“Well, there’s not much that could happen,” he says. “The dam is inspected regularly. You’re sounding a little paranoid. Honey, if anything catastrophic was going to happen here, it would have happened years ago when the whole area was being blasted with explosives.”
“Okay.” I shrug and rip a bite out of my pizza. Okay. Then what could it be? Nuclear war? The zombie apocalypse?
“Some of the valley could see some wet basements,” my dad admits. “They are getting worried about that. Lake Serenity is high, but the dam itself is sound.”
Wet basements. Hardly catastrophic, unless something did happen to the dam. I shove the last bite of crust into my mouth and push away from the table. “I should go get ready.”
“You have a show tonight?”
“Yup. The Strip Mall reopened on Wednesday.” The last one for me, maybe. “Have a few things to finish downstairs.”
His gaze moves over me. “You’re twitchy. Is Reece going to be there?” He knows we broke up. I told him it was because he said they were moving and I didn’t want a long-distance relationship, and blah, blah. That explanation is technically true. It’s just not the full reason.
“I don’t know.” Hopefully not. No, that’s a lie. I want to see him so badly it hurts. I want him to be there tonight. Especially tonight.
“So hey…” It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if I can catch a bus and meet him in Pittsburgh. Maybe bring Deno and Lacey, if I can persuade them to leave. But the words stick in the back of my throat.
His brows draw together. “What is it?”
This is ridiculous. If I tell him even a sliver of what Reece has told me, he will worry for my sanity. And I don’t want him to cancel his trip to stay home with me.
Frankly, I’m beginning to seriously think Reece has blown this thing out of proportion. Cadence is not Afghanistan. It’s southwestern Pennsylvania. And I don’t believe in zombies.
I shake my head with a smile. “Nothing. Just kind of wish I was going with you on your trip this time.”
Dad’s frown melts away, replaced with something knowing and annoyingly parental. “Wish you were, too, but you can’t run away because of a breakup. You have midterms next week.” He takes a bite of his pizza. “Frankly, I feel much better about leaving you for a few nights knowing you won’t be inviting the neighbor boy over to an empty house. Sorry, but it’s true.”
He’s not sorry at all.
“I know. Okay.” A resigned lump settles in my throat. I’m not getting out of Cadence, but my dad is. If Reece’s prediction is right, I’m glad he’s getting out of here. He’ll be safe, either way.
I throw my paper plate in the garbage and head for the basement to put the finishing touches on my set. “See you in a few days, Dad.”
I really, really hope I do.
25-all good things
Deno picks me up at seven o’clock on the nose. He’s extraordinarily punctual. I open a garage door, and he backs up to it so my equipment doesn’t get rained on.
He looks me up and down and lets out a low whistle. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” I grip my laptop like a shield, feeling as naked as a newborn.
“You don’t look sure.” He leans against my car. “It’s not too late to get changed, you know. Go dye your hair, or whatever you do.”
I hand him the laptop. “This is getting ridiculous, Deen. I’m turning eighteen in two months. Graduating in three. This is long overdue.”
And I may not get another chance to do this. I swallow and hand him my mixer and a microphone case.
His eyes widen on the microphone. “Seriously?”
“Did you think I’d change my mind?”
“Yes.” Deno loads them into his van. “I’m glad you didn’t, even though I just lost another damn bet. Lacey must have hidden psychic abilities. I have to stop betting against her.”