Nana went inside after a while. I didn’t know how she could stand the heat.
I knew I needed to plan for tomorrow’s premonition, but instead, I watched the ripple of Emmitt’s muscles while he twisted, turned, and jumped through the water. His chest was wet again from the sprinkler, and he was almost as tan as Jim from his time outside. I struggled not to drool. His words echoed in my head. I was his. Did that then mean he was mine? I liked the idea of that. My stomach tightened.
He turned, caught me watching, and winked. Given my thoughts, my face flamed. He frowned, stopped playing, and strode toward me. I felt my face heat further and looked away, trying to calm down. My averted gaze didn’t last long. I couldn’t not look at him.
As he approached, his nostrils flared. His lips curved in a knowing smile. My stomach went crazy, and my breathing spiked. With a gleam in his eyes, he leapt onto the porch, bypassing the steps, and stalked me.
“Do you have a phone with a data plan, or a computer with internet?” I asked randomly.
My question brought him up short. He tilted his head and studied me with a curious look before shaking his head.
Nana stepped out just then with a tray of sandwiches.
“Emmitt, go get the boys. Michelle, will you fetch a hand towel?”
Glad for the reprieve, I ran inside. Nana had the boys wipe their hands so their sandwiches didn’t disintegrate when they touched them.
We all ate on the porch, and after Emmitt finished eating, he quietly excused himself. I watched him walk inside. When he stepped out again, dressed in shirt and jeans, he said he’d be back later and strode to his bike. The roar of the engine and a cloud of dust marked his passage and left me wondering where he’d gone.
* * * *
Tired from an afternoon of playing, the boys fell asleep quickly, leaving me with nothing to do. I jogged back downstairs, returned the books I’d finished, and borrowed another one from Nana. Back in our apartment, I pulled the office chair onto the dark porch then settled down to read. Reading wasn’t easy. I had to angle the book to catch the light from the kitchen. Still, I relaxed and listened to the night sounds.
Several chapters in, I heard the distant rumble of a familiar engine. I smiled to myself and stayed sitting in the dim circle of light, waiting. It didn’t take long for Emmitt to pull into the driveway. I could taste the dust in the air; we needed rain again. He slowly pulled into the garage and cut the engine.
His eyes glinted when he stepped from the garage and looked up at me. I gave a small wave, knowing he would see me. A few minutes later, I heard his footsteps in the kitchen behind me.
“Nice chair,” he said with a hint of laughter.
I glanced back at him. “It’s my new office.”
“Then you might need this.” He lifted a dark object he’d been holding.
Spinning the chair around, I reached for it. The small sleek tablet caught the light, and I glanced up at Emmitt with a frown. He’d left to buy me a tablet?
“The guy at the store said you should be able to surf the internet, even out here.”
I accepted the outrageous gift quietly. The sensibility of having it for tomorrow outweighed the need to protest at the expense.
“Thank you, Emmitt. I’ll try to pay you back.” But I doubted the stack of bills left in the envelope was enough to pay for it. When pulling a bill out here and there to give to Jim or Nana so they could buy us groceries, I never stopped to count what remained. The thinning pile told me enough.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a gift.”
He stepped onto the porch and moved to lean against the wall. In silence, we watched the stars twinkling over the trees.
“Pretty crazy day,” he commented after a few minutes.
“Makes sitting in my office at night just that much better.” I didn’t really want to talk about the day. If I did, it would really hit home how messed up my life was. I preferred to bumble along in denial for as long as I could.
He pushed away from the wall. “If you need to talk about anything, I’ll be here.” Then, he left quietly.
I stared off at the stars until a distant howl reminded me I had work to do.
Chapter 12
When the boys stumbled into the kitchen and saw me blurry-eyed, leaning over a piece of paper covered with scribbled notes, they froze. The tablet had taken some getting used to. Despite the learning curve, I felt I had enough research on the paper to warrant a plausible explanation of my impending prediction.
Pushing away from the island, I stood with a wilted smile and asked what they wanted for breakfast. A tap at the door delayed their response.
Emmitt swept open the door without waiting for an answer. Jim stepped in just enough for my brothers to see him.
“Come on, boys,” Jim waved them to the door. “Eggs, bacon, potato pancakes and orange juice are waiting.” Still in their pajamas, the boys ran out the door with Jim close on their heels. The three of them created a thumping racket on the steps.
Emmitt stood by the door, studying me. “You didn’t sleep.” Disapproval laced his words. His eyes drifted to the tablet and then the piece of paper.
I blinked at him stupidly, my brain replaced with fuzz. What had he expected when he handed me a cool new toy two hours before midnight? Of course, I stayed up to play with it. My eyes followed his to the paper. And I did some darn good work, too.
His movement interrupted my drifting thoughts. Two strides brought him across the room. A twist and lift had me up in his arms before I could squeal. He marched me to the bedroom, set me gently on the bed, and pulled a sheet up to cover me.
I didn’t fight it much. Having the bed to myself felt lovely. I forced a weak protest for appearance’ sake. “But I have stock information for Nana’s friend.”
“It can wait until you’ve slept a bit.” He hung a blanket over the blinds to keep out all light.
“But...”
“Sleep, Michelle. I’ll be listening.” He closed the door.
My lips twitched in the dark. Plan perfectly executed.
* * * *
The ticker tape woke me. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I threw back the sheet and got out of bed. The still, warm air in the room left me feeling hot and sticky. Grumbling about stocks and lack of rain, I grabbed a change of clothes and stumbled to the bathroom.
As I showered on autopilot, I focused on the information playing in my mind and struggled to recall the closing rate from my research. Nothing came to mind. A seed of doubt sprouted. I rinsed, shut off the shower, and pulled on clothes while still partially wet. Why couldn’t I remember?
Hair dripping onto my shirt, I yanked open the bathroom door and flew to the island. My eyes devoured the notes. I pulled the paper closer, my brain denying what my eyes saw.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I whispered fiercely. I’d stayed up all night. And for what? Some unknown entity to pop into my head. What did I need to do to catch a freak’n break?
I crumpled up the paper and threw the ball out the open French doors, watching it sail over the railing. Grabbing a new sheet, I set to work again, my fingers dancing over the tablet’s smooth glass as I tried to figure out how to prove this new premonition viable. The scratch of my pencil against the paper kept the ticker in my head company.
Deep in thought, reading an article about the business in question, I noticed the sudden silence in my head. The ticker had just stopped. Turned off. I looked at the paper next to me where I’d started my notes about the business. In the top corner, I’d written out the premonition like a recommendation. I knew writing it down wouldn’t turn it off. It never had before. But I had no other explanation. Setting down the pencil, I moved to pick up the paper.