I went into the kitchen, wondering if my father would notice if I got myself a drink of water. Probably. I did it anyway. As I ran my glass under the tap, I could see Mrs. Amador still hanging her clothes on the line next door, softly humming. She seemed happy and content living alone. I hoped my father was too. I was pretty confident I could now report back to my nagging sisters that all was well. I still had to talk to my dad about the naked thing, but I’d scaled the tower and found the princess didn’t need rescuing after all.
Despite letting myself in like this, I wasn’t quite brave enough to leave my water glass in the sink, so I quickly rinsed, dried, and put it back in the cabinet where I’d found it. I was about to close the cabinet door when I spotted a small sheet of yellow lined paper taped to the inside, a note scrawled in blue ink, tight, slanted handwriting.
‘Jaz, the store was out of that cereal so I got the Cheerio’s instead. Also, take your damn vitamins! Their not for decoration.’ It was signed, ‘-O’
I stared, my scowl deepening as I read the note, and the signature, three more times. I got especially caught up on the misspelling of the word ‘they’re’. A certain website I’d visited this morning had two incidents of that same misspelling. My brain went into overdrive, and I tried to assure myself I was letting my imagination run away with me. ‘O’ could be anyone. There were plenty of names that started with that letter. Olivia, Oscar, Oprah… Okay, it probably wasn’t Oprah buying my father cereal, but shit, there was no way it was Orion.
A lightbulb exploded in my brain regardless of my misgivings. This would, undeniably, explain some things. My father knew about my date last night. He knew all about it, including that I called Bonnie when the kids canceled, and that I was taking her to the restaurant I’d reserved for the three of us. He’d wanted to see the kids while they were here, so I’d had to explain why he couldn’t, and the conversation went from there. Shit.
Aside from me, my father was the only other person who’d known these things. I should have considered this sooner, but the idea that my dad knew that weird clown was so unlikely it just didn’t register. Orion sure as hell didn’t seem like the type of person Jasper would know.
Further, if by some odd chance they were acquainted, my father wasn’t the type to gossip. About me. At least I fucking hoped not. I’d never known him to give enough of a shit about my life to discuss it with someone else. He barely seemed to be listening when I told him things in the first place.
The back door hit the wall, making me jump. My father stepped into the kitchen, blue eyes wide and furious, cheeks flushed, long white hair windblown, like some wild man of the sea. “Damn it, Squirt, what the hell are you doing in my house?”
Chapter Four
I closed the cabinet door and faced my father. “I was looking for you. We need to talk.”
“Liz!” He leaned out the back door. “Some neighbor you are. You just let anyone walk right into my house?”
“Jesus, Jasper, he’s your son!”
“Bah!” He came back in, letting the screen door slam. “What the hell were you doing snooping around in my cabinets?”
“I got a drink of water, relax.”
“What do you want?”
“I thought we discussed your naked swimming habit already. What the hell, Dad?”
“Oh for heaven’s sake.” He waved me off and moved to the sink, washing his hands. “That woman needs to mind her own business.”
“Can you just wear some swim shorts when you go for your morning dip? Please.”
He turned to me, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “You were all up in arms because I fell off the seawall, but you know what did it? The wind caught my swim shorts, and pulled me over! So I go bare-assed now. No wind resistance.”
“That’s a bullshit excuse. Get a Speedo.”
“I’m not wearing one of those sausage-smugglers. Those things are obscene.”
“And flashing poor Mrs. Amador your ball sac while she has her morning tea isn’t?”
“Oh please, she probably got her binoculars out so she could get a better eyeful, the cow.”
“Dad!” My father’s blue eyes narrowed, then crinkled at the corners as he grinned. My anger deflated as I laughed. “You’re a jerk. Can we make a compromise? Wear your briefs to go swimming.”
“My what?”
“Your briefs.” I sighed. “Your tighty-whiteys.”
“Swim in my underwear?”
“Yeah, why not? No wind resistance. It’s not a Speedo, and since it’s underwear, you’ll still be kind of indecent, which I know you enjoy these days.”
He chuckled. “I do enjoy being indecent.”
“So? Do we have a deal?”
“All right, all right. Help me wrap the fish and get it in the freezer, and you’ve got a deal.”
“Thank you. I’ll go get the bucket.”
While we worked on the fish, my father made small talk, but I barely heard him, because I was trying to figure out how to bring up the note in the cabinet without pissing him off. But shit. I’d spent the morning cyberstalking Orion, and now I suspected he’d been in my father’s kitchen. I had to ask. I had to. I felt like I was going insane, becoming paranoid and delusional. Like last night in that parking lot when Orion told me it was all just a coincidence. He’d made me feel stupid and silly, but then he called my name on his way out of the park, so maybe on some level even he wanted me to know the truth—and that I wasn’t crazy. Either way, something was up here, and it had fuck all to do with psychic powers.
“How was your date last night?” my father asked as he transported the last of the fish into the freezer.
I washed my hands under the tap and shrugged. “Terrible. She’s blocked me on the dating site, so that should give you an idea.”
“Did you talk to her at all during dinner?”
“Of course I talked to her. What kind of question is that?”
“You know how you are. You act like words cost you fifty cents each. Probably why Violet left you.”
“Don’t be a dick. We talked plenty, she was just moving too fast for me. Wanted me to meet her family, then walked out of the restaurant when I suggested we wait on that.”
I moved aside as my father washed his hands. He chuckled as he shook them out and flicked some water in my face. “Moving too fast? How slow do you want to go? You’re no spring chicken anymore.” He looked me over. “Speaking of chicken, what have you been eating?” He slapped my stomach and I jerked back.
“Fuck off! I’m healthy.”
“I’m sure you are, Squirt. But maybe you should join me on my morning swims, just in case. Getting divorced is no excuse to let yourself go.”
Hearing him use my nickname made me flinch, and I forced myself to bite the bullet and just ask the question, “Dad, who is that note in the cabinet from?”
“Huh?” He glanced at me, then began limping out of the kitchen. “Damn knee is acting up today.”
I followed him into the living room, where he sat down on his recliner. “You all right? Want me to get you some ice?”