Still Waters: The Island / Below the Surface. Heather Graham
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appeared on the screen, then flashed off as if it had never been there.
It was followed by the words I’ll be seeing you soon. In the dark. All alone.
She jumped up and ran out of her office, ready to run down the stairs and find the manager or the commodore or anyone.
But as she reached the foyer and looked into the dining room, she came to a sudden halt.
Kim and Amber were there, just inside the doors, heads together as they sipped sodas. They looked up and saw her.
Both girls were talented actresses onstage, but in the real world, neither one of them was much at deception. The eyes that met hers were wide and filled with guilt.
She stared at them. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Early-dismissal day,” Amber said, swallowing hard.
The girls exchanged glances.
Beth crossed her arms over her chest, furious. She was sure they hadn’t really intended to do anything awful, but she had been scared. Really scared.
“Early dismissal,” she choked out.
“I...forgot to tell Dad,” Amber said. “So, I, um, came here,” she finished weakly.
“To my office,” Beth said icily.
Both girls gulped.
“You were on my computer, weren’t you?” Beth asked accusingly, forcing herself to keep her voice low, since she was at work.
“Aunt Beth...” Amber began, then trailed off guiltily.
Beth tried hard to control her temper, but she still felt frightened, and that didn’t help matters.
She always tried so hard with Amber. It was such a delicate balance. She wasn’t Amber’s mother and could never hope to fill that void. She wanted her niece to know, though, that someone was always there for her, as a mother figure.
Her real mother would have had the luxury of real fury and the ability to punish her without losing her, but Beth had to tread a milder path.
“I suppose you thought you were very amusing,” she began.
“I—just thought—” Amber began.
“I don’t want to know what you thought!” Beth exploded, good intentions forgotten.
“Please don’t tell Dad,” Amber begged. “I’m sorry, really sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Somehow. If you tell Dad, then he’ll tell Kim’s parents, and then...” Her voice faded. She looked at Beth and whispered, “Please. We really didn’t mean to be terrible.”
Beth didn’t answer her. She had to calm down. She turned around and walked back up the stairs, not knowing if the girls would follow or not.
In her office, she sat down again, shaking.
She looked at the computer, then started to laugh. She had apparently tripped over the cord on her way out. The only thing that greeted her now was a blank screen. After a moment she rose, found the displaced plug and returned it to its rightful lodging.
A week ago she wouldn’t have been scared, she would have been puzzled.
Her anger had already begun to fade, probably because she had been so frightened, then so relieved.
She weighed the situation while she logged on and opened up her art program, working on plans to promote the Summer Sizzler and make sure she got everyone in the place excited about the dance lessons.
Do I tell Ben about this or not? she asked herself, returning to the question of the girls and their prank.
Amber would hate her.
Amber would have to get over it.
Maybe she should give the girls a second chance.
She forced her mind back to business. She was going to need a picture of Maria Lopez, which should be easy enough to find online. She pulled out Maria’s card to call her for permission.
She found a picture that was sensational and was also able to reach Maria immediately. In an hour her flyer had come along perfectly and was ready for printing. With that accomplished, she sat back in her chair—just as her brother made an appearance at her door, his daughter right behind him.
He was frowning. “You knew you had the girls?” he asked.
She could see Amber’s eyes. Pleading.
She shrugged, not willing to outright lie when the girls had done something so wrong.
“They never cause any trouble here, Ben.” She stared at Amber. “Almost never,” she added with a grim smile.
She saw him relax. She hadn’t lied, though she hadn’t exactly told the truth, either.
“All right, but I’m supposed to know as well when it’s early dismissal,” he told his daughter.
“Dad,” Amber said, and there was a slight note of reproach in her voice. “You have the school calendar. You just don’t always pay attention.”
Ben opened and closed his mouth. “Yeah, I have the school calendar,” he said finally. He sounded gruff. He turned and walked away.
Amber stared after him, thinking he was still angry. Beth knew better. He was just feeling as if he’d somehow failed as a parent.
Amber stared at Beth again, and Beth was startled to see tears rising in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Aunt Beth. Really sorry.”
“Don’t do it again,” Beth said softly. “And your dad lives for you. Give him a break.”
Kim slipped an arm around Amber as they walked off together.
“Hey,” Beth called. “Kim—what’s the story? Am I driving you home later, or are your folks coming?”
The girls turned back to her. “I’m getting picked up at five-thirty by the guardhouse,” Kim said. “Thank you,” she added quickly.
“Right,” Beth murmured. “Amber, after Kim’s folks have come, we’ll find your dad and have dinner before we leave, okay?”
Amber nodded and took off with Kim.
Beth watched them go, forgetting her own anger. This aunt thing wasn’t easy, she thought. Of course, life never was.
She smiled slightly, turning back to her work, writing herself a mental note that she should be checking up on Amber’s school schedule more than she had been.
* * *
Ben wasn’t angry; he felt depleted. He was actually a pretty good father. He just sucked at trying to be two parents at once.
He sat at the outside bar, sipping a beer. “Hey,” came a call.
Looking around, he saw Mark Grimshaw. As kids, they’d taken sailing lessons together. Then they’d wound up at law school together upstate, and, like their fathers before them, they’d both become members of the club.
“Hey yourself.”
“Your latest case is sure making headlines,” Mark told him.
Ben must have winced, because Mark quickly apologized. “There’s a group of us—and not all attorneys, honest—at the pool. Why don’t you join us?”
Ben lifted his beer. “My daughter’s here. I think we’ll just grab a bite and go home.”
“It’s early. They’re not even serving dinner for another hour. Maybe your daughter wants to hop in the pool, too.”
No, his daughter wouldn’t want to hang with her old man. But maybe a few laps would tire him out, if nothing else.
“Sure. Let me go to my locker. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
Mark