Like a normal family.
"If he doesn't get here by six, we'll just go ahead and eat without him," Ted said, once again reading her thoughts. He winked at her. "After all, it wouldn't be the first time this family has been a member short at the dinner table. And I promise," he went on when his words didn't erase the worry from her eyes, "if he's not home by seven, I'll go look for him. Okay?" Getting to his feet, he began setting the kitchen table, with Molly tagging after him. Again, years of habit came into play, and Janet moved to scoop her daughter up before Ted could brush her aside. But once again her husband surprised her. "Let her be, hon. She's just trying to help."
Ted called Kim down exactly at six, and the four of them—with Molly in her high chair—started eating.
At five after six Scout stood up and a low growl rumbled in his throat. All of them except Molly stopped eating as the big dog moved toward the kitchen door. They heard the front door open then, and close.
"Jared?" Janet called out. "We're in the kitchen! Supper's on the table." She got up to serve her son's plate, but when she tried to gently nudge Scout aside so she could get to the stove, the big retriever didn't move. Instead, the dog stood rigid, his eyes fixed on the kitchen door, his hackles up. And when Jared appeared in the doorway, another low growl of warning reverberated in the dog's throat. "For heaven's sake, Scout, it's only..." The words died on her lips as she saw that Jared wasn't alone. Behind him was the boy she remembered from the day of the funeral, when they'd been moving into the house. Mark? No. Luke. That was it. Luke. Her eyes shifted back to her son. "You should have called," she told him. "If I'd known you were bringing a friend home, I'd have made enough to feed him."
"It's okay," Jared replied. "We got some pizza downtown. We're just gonna go up to my room and listen to some music, okay?" Without waiting for a reply, he and his friend disappeared back through the dining room.
But Scout, instead of following Jared as he always had before, remained on the alert until the sound of the two boys' footsteps on the stairs faded away. And when the retriever returned to his spot next to the refrigerator, his head stayed up.
"See?" Kim said. "I told you Jared was acting weird. Even Scout can tell."
"Don't you think Scout might have been reacting to Jared's friend?" her father asked.
Before Kim could reply, a thunder of music rolled through the house—a hard-pounding rap whose lyrics, even if they hadn't been muddled by the ceiling above the kitchen, were all but drowned out by the pounding rhythm of the synthesizer that accompanied them. Molly, who'd been happily playing with her food a moment before, wailed, and Janet, reacting to the habits inculcated in her over the years, rose from the table, already anticipating her husband's anger. "I'll make him turn it down—" she began, but Ted was already on his feet.
"You take care of Molly," he told her. "It's going to be bad enough having me tell him to keep it down. If it's you, he'll die of embarrassment."
As Janet lifted Molly out of her high chair to soothe the screaming child, Ted headed upstairs. A few seconds later the music was cut short, and shortly afterward, Molly's anguished howls settled into quiet sniffling. Then the little girl rubbed her eyes with her fists and struggled to get back to her dinner. Janet slid her back into the high chair, and Molly scooped a handful of potatoes toward her mouth, getting most of them onto her face and bib.
When Ted returned, Janet waited for the music to start up again.
But the silence held.
"Would you mind telling me how you did that?" she asked.
"Simple," Ted replied, dropping back into his chair. "I made a deal."
"A deal," Janet repeated. "What kind of deal?"
Ted grinned at her, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Probably shouldn't tell you," he said. "Guy thing. But since you're bound to find out anyway, I might as well confess. I gave him one of the rooms in the basement."
Janet stared blankly at her husband, then shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to explain. I don't get it."
Ted shrugged. "Think about it—Jared's almost sixteen, right? Just the age when kids like that kind of music."
"I don't," Kim interjected. But before either of her parents could correct her, she quickly modified the statement. "At least I don't like it so loud it hurts your ears."
"But your brother obviously does—or at least his friend does, which amounts to the same thing. So, since with any luck at all we're going to be having a lot of paying guests around here in a few months, I'm moving Jared into the basement. I told him he could fix it up any way he wants, as long as he makes it soundproof so that no one up here has to listen to whatever he's listening to. He winds up with his privacy, and we wind up with one more room to rent and one less teenager hogging a bathroom upstairs."
"I don't hog the bathroom," Kim protested. Before her mother could object, she changed direction. "What if I wanted a room downstairs?"
Her father looked at her blandly. "Do you?" he asked, his voice betraying nothing of what he might be thinking.
Kim thought about the dark cavern downstairs, with the rabbit warren of dusty rooms lit only by a few bare lightbulbs. God only knew what might be down there, creeping around in the darkness. Unable to hide the shudder that ran over her, she shook her head. "No!"
"Didn't think so," her father replied, winking at Janet.
Half an hour later, when Kim had gone back up to her homework and Jared and Luke had disappeared into the basement to start making plans for his new room, Janet stood at the sink washing dishes.
Washing the dishes, and trying to fathom what had happened that day.
How was it possible that she could have gotten up this morning with the decision to end her marriage finally made, and now actually be looking forward to settling down to spend the evening with the very same man she'd been intending to leave?
Except he wasn't the same man.
Whatever had happened to Ted—whatever truth had finally come to him in the midst of his drunkenness—had, indeed, changed him. And the Ted who came home this morning wasn't a total stranger—he was the Ted she'd met years ago, before the drinking had begun.
He was the Ted she'd always wanted, not the Ted her friends warned her against marrying.
Finally, she'd been proved right. Maybe, her mother's voice interjected. Janet wanted to reject her mother's silent warning as soon as it came into her head, but knew she couldn't.
Ted, after all, had made promises before.
And every time, every single time, he'd broken them.
So why would this time be any different? In the quiet and solitude of the kitchen, she admitted to herself that it might not be any different. She would just have to wait and see.
But for now, for the first time in years, she felt married again.
For as long as it lasted, she was going to enjoy it.
You sure this is a good idea?" Luke Roberts asked as he scanned the room. Perhaps a dozen feet square, its walls were made of thick oaken planks nailed to the huge twelve-by-twelve posts that supported the main joists of the house. It was lit by a single naked bulb hanging from a wire that had been strung along the beams beneath the floor. High up on one wall there were two small windows opening into light wells that, though they might brighten the room a little bit during the day, wouldn't let anyone inside see out, except for maybe a tiny slice of sky. Just the idea of moving into this place was enough to make Luke shudder, and if he'd been given the choice between this dungeon and the big room on the second floor—which was at least twice this size—he knew which one he'd have gone for. In fact, he'd have gone for a room half this size if it had a real window you could open up to let some air in.
There was a funny smell in the room, too. It seemed to be coming from the floor, which was made out of concrete that was starting to rot, with pits Luke was certain must be full of mold and mildew. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to a grate in the middle of the floor.
"It's the sump," Jared replied. "If it get
s real wet, and water starts collecting down here, it all runs in there. Then when that gets too full, a pump goes on, and pumps all the water outside."
The room, already close to a complete zero on Luke's list, dropped another notch. "You mean you want to sleep in a room that might flood?"
Jared shrugged. "Even if it floods, it's not going to be that bad." Then he grinned, his eyes glinting in the bright glare of the bulb that hung from the rafters. "And I'd sure rather be down here than upstairs where everyone'll know what I'm doing."
"There isn't even a bathroom," Luke said sourly.
"Sure there is," Jared countered. "It's over in the corner, near the stairs."
"So what are you gonna do if you have to take a leak in the middle of the night? There's gotta be all kinds of spiders and stuff down here."
"Jeez," Jared groaned. "Haven't you ever heard of a bug bomb? You just set it off and close the place up for a few hours."
"Your dad's gonna love that idea," Luke observed.
"It was my dad's idea in the first place," Jared retorted. Then: "You got a joint?"
Luke's expression clouded suspiciously. "What if I do?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
Jared's eyes rolled. "If you do, we can smoke it."
Luke stared at him. "With your folks right upstairs?"
Jared shrugged. "Why not? That's the great thing about being down here—nobody's gonna walk by, so they won't even smell it if it leaks under the door a little."
Luke's eyes narrowed. "Bet you wouldn't," he said, with just enough challenge in his voice to tell Jared he did, indeed, have a joint.
"I'm gonna go up and get some food and Cokes," Jared said. "Then we'll smoke it, and figure out how to fix this place up."
In less than five minutes he was back, bringing not only Cokes and potato chips, but the radio from his room as well, along with a couple of candles. Plugging the radio into the single socket jury-rigged onto one of the walls the same way the light had been hung from the rafters, he turned it on, but kept the volume low enough so it wouldn't bring anyone down from upstairs. "So how about it, Luke?" he said. "You gonna share the joint?"
Luke frowned. "How'd you know I had one?"
Jared's lips curved into a mysterious smile. "I know all kinds of stuff," he said.
Luke reached into his pocket and pulled out a red tin box just like the ones that practically everyone Jared knew carried. Opening the lid, Luke carefully lifted the paper that cradled the peppermints inside. Underneath were three neatly rolled joints. After taking two of them out and placing them on the floor, Luke slid the box back into his pocket.
Silently, Luke handed one of the joints to Jared.
Jared struck a match, lit the joint, and sucked the smoke deep into his lungs. Holding his breath to keep the fumes in his lungs as long as possible, he passed the joint to Luke. "See?" he said after they'd each taken three tokes. "No big deal." Both of them sank down onto the floor, leaning against the oak wall.
"Good shit," Luke muttered as he sucked a fourth toke into his lungs.
Jared got up and lit the candle, pulled the string that shut off the glare of the naked lightbulb, and settled down against the wall opposite Luke. "Not so bad, is it?"
"Can't see anything," Luke groused, temporarily blinded.
But as the joint took effect and his eyes grew accustomed to the glow cast by the candle, the whole look of the room seemed to change. The rough surfaces of the planks that formed the room's walls softened, and the ceiling seemed to rise above them until it seemed there was no roof at all.
"Cool," Luke breathed.
"Shhh," Jared hissed. "Just let your mind go." He picked the second joint off the floor, lit it, and passed it to Luke.
The light in the room began to flicker and swell.
So, too, did the texture of the walls. No trace of the planks was left at all. Instead, the walls seemed to have turned translucent, with rainbows of color rippling through them. Then the walls—like the ceiling a few minutes ago—began to recede.
It seemed to Luke that they were in a chamber as huge as a cathedral, with a ceiling vaulted so high they could barely make it out. The walls were gold, set with stained glass in swirling patterns that made the light appear to move as it flooded through from somewhere beyond. In front of Luke something that looked like an altar appeared, above which—apparently floating in the air—was a woman.
A woman more beautiful than Luke had ever seen before.
She moved toward him, a silvery robe flowing around her, and as her feet touched the floor, she reached out, her fingers stretching toward him.
She knelt, and gently caressed his cheek.
"Touch me," she said in a voice that sounded like the most beautiful music he'd ever heard. "Touch me."
Hesitantly at first, Luke reached out to the perfect woman.
Her robe fell away, revealing the perfection of her firm flesh and her golden skin.
Luke's fingers touched the woman's flesh, and he trembled.
"I want you, Luke," the woman breathed, "like you want me...."
The vision of the woman blotting everything else from his consciousness, Luke Roberts let himself sink into an ecstasy such as he'd never felt, and knew that when it was over he would be changed forever.
"Yes," he breathed. "Oh, God, yes..." As Luke surrendered to the pleasures of the perfect woman, Jared Conway watched. Watched, and smiled.
October
CHAPTER 20
Sandy Engstrom eyed Kim Conway anxiously. Over the last few weeks—ever since Kim had asked if she could sit at Sandy's favorite table in the St. Ignatius cafeteria—the two of them had become best friends. Sandy had been surprised that first day, because only the day before Kim had hardly spoken to anybody but her brother. Her gorgeous brother, Sandy amended to herself, though she'd been careful not to let Kim know that she'd developed a crush on Jared Conway the minute she saw him. In fact, the main reason she'd been friendly toward Kim was in the hope of meeting Jared. But by the end of that first lunch, she knew she'd found someone to replace Melissa Parker, her best friend since kindergarten, until Melissa moved to New Orleans just before school started. As for Jared, Sandy's crush on her new friend's brother had faded almost as quickly as it had come over her. Maybe if he hadn't started hanging out with Luke Roberts...
But he had started hanging out with Luke, and as far as Sandy was concerned, anyone who was a friend of Luke's was off her list, if for no other reason than the way Luke had dumped Melissa Parker last year. He hadn't even had the guts to tell her he was breaking up with her himself. Instead, he'd invited Dawn LaFrenier to the homecoming dance, and by the time Melissa found out, it was too late to get another date. Sandy hadn't had a date, either, so the two of them went to the movies that night, and struck Luke—and all his friends—off their list of boys they'd have anything to do with. And just because Melissa was gone, Sandy wasn't about to reinstate Luke Roberts to her list of friends.
Fortunately for Kim, the stigma Jared carried because of his new friend didn't extend to her. Since that first day almost six weeks ago, the two girls had been having lunch together every day, and studying together at Sandy's nearly every afternoon. So far, Kim hadn't invited her over to the Conway house, and although Sandy was curious about it, she still wasn't sure she actually wanted to set foot in it. In fact, she'd even wondered out loud a few times if Kim wasn't afraid to live there.
"Why should I be?" Kim had asked. "I mean, it's not like it's haunted or something." The look on Sandy's face had given her away, and Kim groaned. "You don't believe all those stories about my dad's aunt and uncle, do you?" When Sandy reddened, Kim sighed in exasperation. "It's just a house! And it's been empty for a long time, but just because Luke Roberts thinks it's haunted doesn't mean it is."
The invocation of Luke's name had been enough to keep Sandy from repeating all the old rumors, but she wasn't convinced there was nothing to them. Of more concern to Sandy, Kim appeared oddly distracted at times.
Sandy was convinced that there was something Kim wasn't telling her.
"Kim?" she said now. "Are you okay?" They were sitting in the pizza parlor around the corner from St. Ignatius, having sneaked away from the cafeteria rather than face the nuns' macaroni and cheese one more time. "You look like you're worried about something."
In fact, Kim was. Worried about what would happen if the sisters caught them out of school. But even more than that, she was worried about Jared. She knew, though, how her friend felt about her brother—or anyone else Luke Roberts knew—so she shook her head. Besides, even if Sandy might be sympathetic, she didn't know exactly what to say. She'd felt more cut off from Jared as the days passed until now it seemed she didn't have a brother anymore, let alone a twin.
"I'm fine," she replied, but seeing that Sandy wasn't convinced, she cast around in her mind for something that might satisfy her. "Actually, I was sort of wondering what excuse you were going to give me when I invited you."
Sandy cocked her head. "Invite me to what?" she asked. "And why would I say no?"
"A sleep-over on Friday," Kim said casually. She waited, then added: "At my house." As she'd been sure it would, a shadow of apprehension clouded her friend's face. "You're not scared, are you?" Kim asked with exaggerated innocence.
"N-No," Sandy answered, a little too fast. "I just—"
"We'll rent horror movies and pretend it's Halloween, even though it'll be two nights early. We can..." Her words died on her lips at the look on Sandy's face, which was enough to tell Kim who must have come into the pizza parlor. Luke Roberts's voice confirmed it.