Storm Watcher (17 page)

“Don’t worry, she’ll straighten out,” Willajean said. “She’s ten months old and in her doggy adolescence. Typical teenager, thinks she knows everything.” Willajean shot Megan a look. “Give her another year.”

“Another year,” Luke cried. He’d hoped to enter Lightning into an AKC junior tracking test in the fall. Waiting until next April would take forever.

Willajean laughed. “That’s not bad. I’m still waiting for Alayna to straighten out.”

“All Alayna wants to straighten is her hair,” Megan said.

Luke covered a laugh. Alayna claimed to have too much homework to help in the afternoons. He didn’t miss her at all, and he hoped she’d find another job this summer. Maybe Jacob and Scott could get her a job at Hersheypark. That’d be sweet.

Luke biked over to the high school. He’d been confiding in Mr. Hedge about his guilt over Mom’s death. Strange they hadn’t been talking too much about his fear, but he guessed they’d get to that eventually. And being allowed to say anything no matter how stupid – like Scott grossing him out by chewing with his mouth open – or illogical – like what’d he do if he could con-trol the weather, eased the tight knots inside him. Odd.

Luke didn’t bother to knock before entering Mr. Hedge’s office. Big mistake. Two other students sat in front of the counselor’s desk.

“Sorry,” Luke said, automatically backing out. But he stopped as Jacob and Scott turned to look at him.

CHAPTER 16

Guys Don
’
t Chat

What are Jacob and Scott doing here?
Did Mr. Hedge rat me out?

His brothers looked serious, but not pissed off. At least, not yet. Uncertain what to do, Luke stayed on the threshold, clutching the doorknob.

“This isn’t an ambush, Luke,” Mr. Hedge said. “Come on in.”

Luke stepped inside. The air pressed on him. Another chair had been placed next to the desk. Luke sat, but kept an eye on his brothers.

“Jacob and Scott have been talking to me for the last three months.”

Luke’s attention snapped to Mr. Hedge. Not what he’d expected.
About Mom
? “But I thought…” That they were okay.

“Losing a parent is a life-changing event for every-one. No one is immune. Although everyone deals with it differently.” Mr. Hedge gave Scott a tight smile.

“Hey, anyone could have set fire to the chem lab,” Scott said. “What I want to know is, who’s the idiot who thought giving a bunch of teenagers flammable chemicals and Bunsen burners is a good idea? It was just a matter of time.”

“Uh-huh. Make sure you tell that to your future parole officer,” Mr. Hedge teased.

“And don’t forget to include that you’re a graduate of Mr. Hedge’s twelve-step program,” Jacob said.

“Twelve steps?” Mr. Hedge’s bushy eyebrows spiked over his glasses.

“Yeah, it’s twelve steps from here to the bathroom. It’s where we go to flush all that touchy-feely crap you feed us down the toilet.” Jacob mimed putting his finger in his mouth.

“Touché.” The counselor appeared impressed.

“Uh… What’s this have to do with me?” Luke asked.

“Sorry, Luke. Your brothers have a tendency to use humor and sarcasm to avoid difficult subjects. And since
they
wanted to talk to you, I’ll go powder my nose.” Mr. Hedge headed for the door, but before he left he pointed two fingers at the twins. “No jokes, got it?”

They nodded.

“Good.” He closed the door behind him.

Luke grabbed the chair’s arms and waited for…
what
? He had no idea. But it couldn’t be good. At least Mr. Hedge hadn’t ratted him out. Jacob and Scott did that silent twin communication thing.

Finally, Jacob said, “You were right, Luke. We blamed you for Mom’s death.”

He dug his fingernails into the fabric. How could being right feel so awful?

“You were Mom’s favorite. She’d do anything for you, so…yeah, we blamed you,” Scott said.

Luke opened his mouth to protest.

Jacob held up his hands. “Don’t. We know. We have each other. Dad always worked late. Mom was all you had.”

“And Mom was just being Mom.” Scott played with the zipper on his jacket.

“Yeah, she would have done the same thing for us. Or Dad. Heck, she’d even risk herself for one of the dogs,” Jacob added.

True. Luke remembered Mom tackling Ranger when he was a pup. He’d been about to dash into the busy street, and Mom dived for him, scraping her knees and elbows. They’d been a bloody mess.

“So we’ve been hashing it out with Hedge,” Scott said. He met Luke’s gaze. “And we’ve been real jerks to you. Sorry, Luke. We know it wasn’t your fault.”

Stunned, Luke studied his brothers. Were they really his brothers, or had aliens taken over their bodies? At this point it was hard to tell.

“We’re serious, Luke,” Jacob said. “Those thoughts are gone.”

“Along with everything you learned today,” Scott quipped.

“Excuse me? Who has a ninety-two average? Not you.” Jacob poked Scott’s arm.

Ah. Not aliens. Too bad. It would have explained a lot. Luke smiled.

When Mr. Hedge returned, Jacob and Scott immediately stopped picking on each other. Scott put a finger to his lips, signaling Luke to keep quiet about the jokes.

“Did you boys have a nice chat?” the counselor asked.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Guys don’t chat. We took care of business.”

“Business?” Scott huffed. “What are you? One of those Mafia guys now?”

Mr. Hedge jumped in before they could start flinging insults again. “You two can go.”

Jacob slung his backpack over his shoulder. “You might want to hang out with Hedge, Luke. He’s not bad for an old dude.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t smell like an old man at all. I think it’s because the stink of his hemorrhoid cream covers the rot.”

“Always a pleasure…” Mr. Hedge shooed the twins out the door. Then he settled behind his desk. “Your brothers wanted to set the record straight so to speak. What do you think?”

“I don’t know.” Luke relaxed his death grip on the armchair. He thought about what his brothers had said, and the comments Dad had made that day in the car. Did it change anything inside? “My dad, Jacob, and Scott all told me they don’t blame me, but
I
blame me.”

And once he started talking, Luke couldn’t stop the rush of words. “People have been telling me it’s not my fault since the accident. And I know I didn’t make that particular bolt of lightning strike Mom’s minivan. I didn’t lose control of the car. I’m not the tree she ran into. But she was out there for me, because she knew I’d be scared.”

“What if you had called her and told her to stay home?” Mr. Hedge asked.

“She would have come anyway, and it still would be my fault.”

“Okay, so it’s your fault. Does it change anything?”

“No.”

“You still feel miserable, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll agree that you were the reason she was out there. But you’re not the reason she died. It was her choice to be out there – her choice to be a good mom. Did she know it was dangerous to be out during a thunderstorm?”

“Yes, I’d told her a million times!”

“And she knew you were safer inside?”

“Yes, but I was scared. She knew that.”

“Scared, but safe. She decided to risk her life by going out in that storm instead of waiting for it to blow over. It was her decision.” He leaned forward. “Do you think she’d want you to be so miserable?”

Luke’s mind swirled with everything Mr. Hedge had said. But that was the one question he could answer. “No. She’d be baking me cookies, trying to make me feel better. But I can’t just turn it off.”

“You’re right. There’s no off button. Too bad, huh? That’d be pretty sweet.”

“Yeah.”

“But there is a valve, and eventually you can crank that baby down to a trickle. Just like your fear of storms.”

“But we haven’t even talked about that yet.”

“One thing at a time.”

Luke groaned. “It’s gonna take forever.”

“No it won’t. Max of four years. Definitely
before
you graduate.”

Four years? That
was
forever.

Mr. Hedge studied him a moment. “How about I teach you a few coping techniques, see if they help you during a storm?”

“Okay.”

After his session with Mr. Hedge, Luke biked to the kennel and joined Megan in the kitchen. He’d been seeing the counselor for weeks and been talking about his fear of the weather, but despite that and the breathing techniques he learned, Luke still panicked during thunderstorms. And now it was the middle of May – prime time for tornados. At least his brothers had been acting normal. When he actually saw them. Hersheypark opened soon, and then they’d be working as much as possible.

“Sweetie’s due any day now,” Megan said as she cracked the eggs.

Willajean’s favorite papillon would be a happy mother. Then again, when wasn’t the dog happy? All Luke had to do was smile at her, and her tail flew.

“Mom and I have bets on which day she’ll whelp.”

“What did you bet?” Luke asked.

“If I win, Mom has to drive me to school for a week.”

“And if you lose?”

“I have to clean out my closet.” Megan made an
ugh
face. “Hey do you want to study for the geometry test later?”

“Can’t. I’m going to the movies with Ethan.” He and Ethan had been hanging out a lot. Just like old times.

“Oh.” Megan focused on the bowl.

“Besides, the test isn’t until next week.” Luke threw a piece of meat to Lightning. She snatched it out of midair.

“Yeah, well, those proofs are hard.”

“Call Jenna, she’ll help you.”

“I guess.”

A damp blast blew into the kitchen as Megan’s dad entered. He wore a flannel shirt with black jeans and shiny black cowboy boots that looked like they were more suited for a night out than for tromping around a farm.

“Hey, Luke,” he said.

“Hey, Mr. Duncan,” Luke replied, not comfortable with calling him Max like he’d asked.

Megan’s face took on a guarded expression. She chopped the dogs’ meat. The knife banged loudly with each stroke.

“What are you doing here?” Megan asked her dad. “I thought you didn’t like the smell of dog.” She swept past him with a bowl full of chopped raw liver that glistened in the fluorescent light.

He backed up a step to avoid the bowl. Luke hid his smile.

“Just thought I’d come visit. See why you spend so much time here, Meggie,” he said.

“Scoping out the merchandise is more like it,” Meg-an accused. She shoved the bowl into the refrigerator.

Wow
. Luke couldn’t believe she’d just said that.

“Megan Louise Duncan, don’t you ever talk to me that way.” Her dad took a step toward her, and she froze.

“The rice is done,” Luke said, reminding them he was in the room.

Mr. Duncan relaxed slightly. “Come on, Meggie, honey. I told you I was sorry. I had too much to drink that night. When I sobered up, I felt awful. But it was too late to apologize. Your mother had already called the cops. What can I do to convince you?”

He must be talking about the night he had stolen Willajean’s puppies. He sounded sorry. If Luke hadn’t been listening to Megan gripe about her father since Christmas, he might have believed Mr. Duncan.

Megan put her hands on her hips. “You can go back to North Carolina.”

Luke held his breath.

Mr. Duncan mimicked Megan’s gesture. “I’m not going back. I’ll just have to find another way. You’d better get used to me being around. I plan to stay. Fact of life.” With that, Megan’s dad left the kennel.

Had Mr. Duncan been mocking her, or had she gotten that saying from him? Luke was smart enough not to ask.

Megan stomped around the kitchen, banging doors, and tossing dirty cutting boards into the sink. “I’ll show him,” she mumbled under her breath.

“How?” Luke asked.

Megan whispered, “The vet is coming tomorrow to microchip all the dogs.”

“What does that do?”

“If your dog gets lost and someone finds him, they can scan the chip and trace him back to you. If your dog is stolen, you can prove he’s yours. And if he’s sold to a research lab with a microchip, they won’t take him.”

Luke was surprised she’d said something nice about the labs. According to Megan, research labs that used animals for experiments were the ultimate evil.

“How do you know about this?” Luke asked.