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This wasn’t a case of hysterics. Her fear was contained but just beneath the surface.
The clouds were ominous and the tide high. The storm promised to be strong and it could turn deadly at any time. Hurricane Ana had already proved herself to be formidable and had drifted back out to sea. No one wished for her return, but the Weather Service predicted she’d make landfall again in a couple days.
Lucas looked at Doreen, whose eyes reminded him of the time he’d been in Africa and had seen liquid gold flecked with tidbits of coal. He’d seen nothing more beautiful.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he told her. He knew his reassurance might not hold much weight, but she was here because of him. He had to help her get through this.
Doreen didn’t believe him. She folded her arms across her chest, her neck tilted and her eyebrow quirked up on the end. Words were unnecessary.
“Let’s just get to the house, Lucas, and tomorrow your babysitting job will be over.”
This was the first crack in her facade. “Hey.” He unbuckled his seat belt and slid across the seat. “Come on now. I promise not to let anything bad happen to you. All right?” Some of the tension eased from her body and she looked at him and then away. “Are we friends again?”
“Maybe,” she said, and he got the impression she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by calling him a liar to his face.
“Can I hug you? A tiny hug? I’m not trying to feel you up for free or anything.”
She laughed a little, her hands gripping the seat. He wanted her to trust him.
“Please?” he asked.
“Okay,” she said, and to his surprise she reached over and hugged him.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered. “I’m never going to want to stop holding you.”
“Lucas!” She was playing again.
Even with her protest, he still didn’t let her go for another few seconds, then reluctantly, he slid over and started the truck. This was the Doreen he knew. Always getting on him for something. “All right, we’re going. But you’ve got to promise we’ll do that again.”
She laughed, sounding more like herself. “I really do think you have a mental illness.”
“Why? Because I complimented your hugging ability? You don’t hug like a cute girl, with your butt stuck out and a pat on the back. Somebody knows they’ve been touched when they hug you. That’s really good.”
“Thanks,” she said, a sincere smile blooming on her face.
Thunder rumbled. “I better get to the hardware store before you have to swim back to New York. You look like you’re tired of Florida and you’ve only been here thirty minutes.”
“Swim? I don’t know how to swim. I began learning, but never finished. I need a refresher course.”
Her expression was so cute he could tell she was serious, although she was smiling.
“A refresher course.” He nodded. “Not sure they offer those, but you could just get in the water and start stroking.”
“I could try that.”
Thunder boomed and she jumped off the seat, her hands shooting up. “My goodness. I have to stop that.”
“You sure do.” He laughed. “You’re about to scare me to death and I’ll kill somebody.” Lucas looked at her, then at the road. Then at her again. “You’re too old to be screaming.”
“Lucas McCoy, how are you telling me I’m too old for something? I didn’t say that to you last month when you told me you chased down that ice cream truck, did I?”
“There’s my friend Doreen.”
She rolled her eyes and acted like she wasn’t going to smile at him. “Did you order some thunder to get the real me to come out?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.”
“You’re full of it. You didn’t know I was coming.”
“There’s that New York woman I’ve been missing. Florida women are so Southern and sweet. New York women are mean and hard.” He pumped his fist at her and she playfully hit his hand. “See what I mean? You’re mean as hell.”
“I don’t want to be mean to you. I don’t know how to be.” The words settled between them. “We need to talk, Lucas.”
He drove awhile. “And we will. Let’s give it a minute to settle in. Do you like hip hop or jazz?”
“Both.” Her nails were polished this pretty pink color, and he liked that. This was the land of white-tipped nails and shih tzu dogs and year-round tans. Doreen, however, was an original.
He pressed the button on the radio. “This station plays a little of both at different times of the day. The DJ—Holy Terror—is one of my best friends. His real name is Terrence Jeffries. Used to play for the Dolphins. He’s hard on women, but he means well, and he’s funny.”
“We’ve got some real characters in New York, too. But you already know that.”
Lucas turned down the volume. “You’re right. Let’s go ahead and clear the air. I don’t want what happened between Emma and me to affect what happens while you’re here.”
She looked uneasy. “I don’t want to know about your relationship. I worked for her, and that essentially ended today. It’s a formality once I get back, but she’ll have already moved into her new office with her new assistant, Carl.”
“All the better,” he said.
Assessing and direct, she stared him down. “What does that mean?”
“It means that whatever happens this weekend, you won’t feel obligated to report to Emma. She won’t pressure you into telling her what went on, and you won’t feel as if you have to navigate between two worlds. You’re not obligated to play the straight man for both of us. I’m sorry I even put you in that situation.”
“Oh.” A sweep of her hand sent her hair behind her ear. Silver hoop earrings slid into view.
“Now that’s it’s over between Emma and me, you can tell me if she said anything bad about me.”
She exhaled through her nose and intentionally blinked at him. “Lucas.” The way she said his name made him laugh. A thin line between patience and trouble. And she was short on patience.
He started laughing. “I’m just kidding. All you said was ‘Oh.’ I was expecting something else. Like ‘Thank God,’ or ‘I’m so glad I don’t have to listen to you two anymore.’ But ‘Oh’? It’s kind of a letdown, to be honest.”
Exasperation and relief seemed to make her shake her head. “Aren’t you supposed to be going somewhere?”
“Now you want to get bossy and evil.”
“Just drive before you get into more trouble.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is it really over?” Doreen asked.
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we don’t love each other anymore,” he explained as he turned to look at her. Over her shoulder he noticed the drains were full and made a mental note to call Stephen and report the blockage. Stephen Morales was not only one of his best friends, but also the deputy sheriff. He didn’t chance driving. Not now while his life was swirling with the water, spinning in a new direction.
“Then why did you want Emma to come down