The Lucky Ones(49)

“I can make another one in five minutes,” Deacon said. “Can’t make another Allison. Good reflexes, Thor.”

Allison laughed that sort of relieved, terrified laugh of someone who’d dodged a bullet. But Thora wasn’t laughing. She grabbed Allison and hugged her tight again.

“You okay?” Thora asked.

“I’m fine. Except I feel like an idiot,” she said. “You saved me from a dragon. You should be knighted.”

“Sisters protect each other,” Thora said. “Right?”

“Right,” Allison said, trying to smile through her shaking. Thora had shoved Deacon so hard he probably had a bruise on his arm.

After the almost-tragedy, none of them were in the mood to keep playing in the hot shop. Deacon and Thora quickly finished up their paperwork while Allison poked around the front of the shop where Deacon’s premade items were for sale. Glass wind chimes, glass Christmas ornaments and her favorite—hourglasses filled with sand from Clark Beach.

She paused and studied one particularly strange glass sculpture sitting on a shelf—a skull with a large hole in the top.

“What’s this?” she asked. “You make a boo-boo, Deacon?” Allison pointed to the hole the head.

Deacon stood up and turned her way, his hand resting on Thora’s shoulder.

“Don’t ask what that is,” Deacon said. “Ask who.”

“Okay,” Allison said, happy to bite. “Who is this?”

“That’s Phineas Gage,” Deacon said. “He’s the guy who got the iron rod shot through his head in the 1800s. I think he was a railroad worker.”

“Oh, yeah,” Allison said, eyeing the quarter-sized hole in the glass skull. “I remember reading about him in high school. He survived, right?”

“Sort of,” Thora said. “He had a completely different personality after the accident. He was nice and polite and hard-working before. After the injury, he swore all the time, couldn’t hold a job very well. Dad said Phineas is the reason the science of neuroscience exists. People realized the personality is partly in the frontal lobe because of him. But don’t be impressed by Deacon’s nerdy art. He was trying to make a skeleton for Halloween. He popped a hole in that skull like a balloon, and then he pretended it was supposed to be Phineas Gage.”

“Hush, wench,” Deacon said. “I totally meant to do that.”

Allison rolled her eyes and let them get back to work.

What a picture-perfect life they led—a successful art gallery and studio in a quaint and scenic coastal town steps from the beach and half a mile from dense old-growth forest. More than that, however, Allison simply envied Deacon and Thora because of Deacon and Thora. Thora sat at her desk, Deacon hovering behind her chair as they quietly planned the weeks and months ahead—a gallery showing in Vancouver, a seminar Deacon would teach at a local college in summer. They were a brother-sister dream team, good partners making a successful business together. Even after Dr. Capello passed away and Roland returned to the monastery, Deacon and Thora would still have this shop and each other.

“Done,” Deacon said as he came out from behind Thora’s desk. “Sorry that took so long.”

“It’s fine. I love your store,” Allison said. “This place is like my dream come true.”

“You want to own a glass studio?” he asked.

“Bookstore, but close enough.”

“Why don’t you head home and check on Dad,” Thora said to Deacon as she switched off her computer. “I want to catch up with Allison.”

Deacon gave Thora a quick questioning look but then it was gone again in a flash.

“Sure,” he said. “See you two at home.” He headed out the door. A few seconds later, Allison heard his motorcycle rev up and disappear down the road. Thora locked up and they walked to Allison’s car together.

“I am sorry about almost, you know, burning my hand off,” Allison said once they were inside her car.

“We have liability insurance,” Thora said with a wave of her hand.

“Should I head straight home?” Allison asked. “Or do you need me to take some detours so you can drill me longer about Roland?”

“Ah,” Thora said, wrinkling her nose. “Busted. Well, you better take a detour.”

Allison headed south to Cape Arrow but didn’t rush.

“There’s not much to talk about,” Allison said.

“You two did sleep together, right?”

“We’re adults, and he’s already told me he plans on going back to the monastery. I know what I’m doing.” She hoped she did, anyway.

Thora nodded and stared out the car window as Allison drove.

“Was it weird to see him again?” Thora asked.

“It was,” Allison said. “Good weird. I was pretty in love with him when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, you were,” Thora said. “Made me nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?”

Thora shrugged. “You were both kids, but he was almost five years older than you. I didn’t want you getting your heart broken.”

“Not twelve anymore,” Allison said.

“True,” Thora said. “Thirteen years is a long time ago and you were what, twelve? Do you even remember us?”