Once again, ThAnK you all for your reviews last chapter!
So, this is all for chapter8. I'm so sorry it's short. But believe me, it will be worth it in the next two chapters.
Reviews, reviews, reviews...please.
-----------
Spencer opened her eyes and tried to focus on the white phone next to her pillow. She had no idea how long it had been ringing.
She vaguely remembered thinking about calling her hometown friends last night. She must have fallen asleep she decided, as she was trying to remember if the time zones were different from here to Cincinnati.
She reached over and answered the phone, only to realize that Arthur had already answered it. He was talking to another man in a language she didn't understand. She wondered if it was Papiamento, the native Aruban language she heard old porcupine butt talking in the other night. She disconnected and looked back at the clock. It was 8:30.
Spencer considered going back to sleep, but then she heard pots and pans banging in the kitchen.
"Guess it's time to face the music," she muttered, getting up.
Looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she was amazed that in spite of the gallon of sunscreen she'd slathered on yesterday, she still showed touches of color on her face and the tops of her shoulders.
But at least it was color, not third degree burns, she reminded herself.
She was extra-careful coming out of the shower that morning. Try as she might, though, Spencer couldn't help dwelling a little on what had happened yesterday. . . And how angry Ash had looked last night.
She hadn't been able to escape completely after she was dropped off by Mackenzie. Arthur had come to her door, obviously restraining his anger. It was a good thing her did, too. Still, he told her Ash had been looking for her for most of the afternoon. Since Arthur had gotten back from work, the two of them had been looking together.
The message she had left for the older girl hadn't clearly been passed on by the Lizards. Ash had been under assumption that she'd taken the cab home. Mac hadn't even been mentioned. The rest was history.
Spencer apologized to her father. She figured she had to do the same to Ash.
The smell of real breakfast was drifting out from the kitchen by the time Spencer came out of her bedroom. Arthur appeared to be in the middle of doing three things at the same time-toasting bread, flipping pancakes, and frying bacon.
Spencer stopped as the senses triggered something from her memory. Her mother was a cereal person but Arthur liked to cook things for his daughter. She used to love it.
She cleared her throat. "Yesterday, Ash told me you're not much for eating breakfast these days."
He looked up, noticing her for the first time. "I like to save myself for special occasions."
Spencer realized this was the first time they were seeing each other in daylight. He looked good, fit, and handsome, much as she remembered him. A touch of gray colored his sideburns, but he still had a head full of dark, wavy hair. His eyes were as blue and intense as ever. Spencer looked like her mother, except for her eyes. She inherited Arthur Carlin's baby blue eyes.
He seemed to be doing some reminiscing too, as it seemed he had forgotten the current pancake on the grill.
"Do you need a hand with that?"
He looked at the pancake and flipped it. It wasn't too burned.
"Can you butter the toast?"
She nodded, approaching. "How many people are you cooking breakfast for?"
"Just the two of us."
Spencer was disappointed that Ash wasn't coming over for breakfast, but then she had remembered what Mackenzie had said about the windsurfing.
She leaned her crutches against the fridge and started helping him. They worked in silence. Spencer realized that they were away from each other for so long that there wasn't even small talk they could share.
Arthur made the effort though. "So, did you enjoy yourself yesterday?" They hadn't gotten to that last night. Spencer decided to be honest. " I did. The girl I met, Ash's friend, was
really nice."
"Mackenzie.
"Yeah. She drove me here, and then I met her later by the high-rise resorts. Her mother owns a pizza place over there."
"The Brick Oven. Yeah I know. I've stopped there a few times for takeout."
"Mac's mom said I could have a part-time job there this summer if I want," Spencer told him. "I'm going to take her up on it."
Arthur paused and looked at her for a minute. "Don't you want to wait until your leg is out of that cast?"
"No, not really. She said I could manage the cash register right now. I'll wait tables in two weeks."
"Do you still like your eggs over easy?"
Spencer nodded, relieved that he wasn't objecting her getting a job. Not that it would have really mattered.
She took out dishes and silverware and looked inside the fridge for the juice. There was quite a selection.
"You went shopping?"
"Just bare-bones stuff. There's a pad and paper on the counter. Just write down whatever you need or want. Clodilde is the housekeeper. She comes over every Monday. She takes care of shopping, too."
Spencer noticed there was some writing on the pad already. It was an address in San Nicholas.
She'd heard about San Nicholas. It was a town at the southern end of the island. Mackenzie had mentioned it and said that area was where a lot of workers at the refinery lived. She also knew there were some rough sections in that town.
"Sorry that's mine." Arthur snatched the pad off the counter and tore it off the top sheet, stuffing it into his pocket.
Spencer thought he seemed a little jumpy about the note, but she shrugged it off.
As they sat at the counter for breakfast, Arthur seemed a little preoccupied, but she decided not to hold it against him. He'd made a point about making them breakfast. She turned the gesture by trying to hold conversation while they ate.
She told him about Cincinnati and high school and how she had already been looking into some colleges. He seemed to perk up at that. He even started asking some questions about her preference of school size, locations, and majors she was thinking of taking.
He definitely looked impressed when Spencer said she was thing about majoring in engineering.
"I've always been good at math and science," she said.
"I'm not surprised, " he responded. " You got the genes for it from-"
He stopped at the telephone rang from the other side of the house.
"Sorry, the handset is in my room," she said, quickly realizing the phone Arthur used was sitting on the counter. But that wasn't the telephone that was ringing.
Arthur excused himself and headed toward his office. It was the first time she'd seen the door to the office left open. She checked the door yesterday and found it locked.
She could hear snatches of the conversation. This time, she could hear him speaking in Spanish. Three years of it in high school helped her pick up a few words here and there. Money. Next week. Meeting. Spencer looked toward the office just as Arthur closed the door. That was the end of her eavesdropping.
She looked down at the plate of food he made. They haven't even made a dent in them. It was sometime before he came out of the office. He didn't have to say anything. She saw it in his expression. He had to leave.
She decided there wasn't any point in getting upset. It was what she'd come to expect, and she would just put up with it.
For two months.