The Firefly Effect (34 page)

“Really? Why?”

“Well…I like meeting and talking to the people who enjoy my books. That part I’m looking forward to. But then I get really nervous too. I’m always afraid I’m going to have a panic attack and make a fool of myself in front of everyone.”

I know about Melanie’s anxiety attacks. She clued me in after I found her in the bathroom at work one day, splashing cold water on her face. She was pale as a ghost and shaking all over. I felt so bad for her. I wonder what causes a person’s body to react like that?

“Have you ever had a panic attack at one of these events before?” I ask.

“Nothing too bad. I mean, nothing I couldn’t control.”

“Then I’d say you’re worrying for nothing. If it was going to happen, it already would have. Just try telling yourself that.”

“Well…yeah, that’s true. And I don’t have them nearly as often as I used to.”

“See? You have nothing to worry about. What time’s your book signing? I’ll try and come. Is it here?”

“No, it’s in Atlanta. At Barnes and Noble.”

“All the way in Atlanta? Jeez. Guess I won’t be coming after all. I have to work Monday.” It’s funny – most people complain about Monday because it’s the start of a brand new work week. I, on the other hand,
love
Mondays. Of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that I get to see Brad. I’m thinking of biting the bullet and asking him out. If I wait for him to make the first move, our first date is liable to be bingo at the senior center.

“You don’t even like murder mysteries,” she reminds me with a smile.

“I could still be there for moral support!”

“I appreciate that. It’s too far for you to drive just for that, though.”

“Atlanta, hm?” This gives me an idea. “Since you’re already going that far north, it might be worthwhile to make a little side trip. Like to Tennessee maybe? I hear there are lots of fun, touristy things to do there.”

Her eyes cut sideways, telling me with one look that she’s got my number. “Like your brother?”

“Well, I’ve never thought of him as touristy before, but you could get him a pair of plaid Bermuda shorts and one of those big ol’ cameras if that’s what revs your engine.” I grin innocently.

“You are an evil little snot. Are you sure you two aren’t biologically related? Because you’re so much alike it’s scary.”

“Hey, don’t lump me in the same gene pool with
that!
” We’ve reached the public access entrance, and our feet clomp along the wooden planks of the walkway leading down to the beach. “Actually, I shouldn’t say that. His mom is one of the sweetest ladies in the world. I couldn’t have handpicked a better stepmother than Louise. And she makes my dad happy, so…”

“How come you’re always bitching about Shane and calling him names? Is he really that bad?” She gives me a curious look, and I notice in the moonlight that her eyes are slightly glassy from the tequila. Good – maybe it’ll loosen her tongue.

“No, of course not,” I admit. “I just like giving him a hard time. See, I was an only child when I was little, so it’s just fun for me now that I have someone to pick on. But all kidding aside, being totally serious here, Shane is a good person with a heart of gold. And I’m not just saying that to try and get you guys together. He’s done a lot for me. Way more than I deserve.”

We slow down to look around as we step off the boardwalk into the sand. It doesn’t look all that different, except that the sugar-white shoreline is now littered with ocean debris. Mostly just stringy brown seaweed and broken bits of shells. In the distance I can make out the hulking outline of a bulldozer parked on the roadside, left behind by the beach cleanup crew.

In front of us, the full moon reflects off the dark water in a rippling path of glowing white.

When I was a little girl, I used to believe that if I followed that pathway over the sea, at the end I would find where the mermaids lived.

“Come on.” Melanie shuffles her way through the deep sand toward a row of wooden rental chairs, and I plod along after her. We pick out two chairs and make ourselves comfortable. No one is here to solicit them after dark, so at night they’re up for grabs.

Pulling my knees up to my chin, I wrap my arms around them and wait to see if she picks up the conversation or changes the subject again.

“Are you talking about him buying the house here? Is that what you meant when you said he’s done a lot for you?”

I hide a smile behind my knees. “That’s one thing, yeah, but it wasn’t even what I was thinking of. There was this one time – well, back up some, let me start out by saying that when our parents first got married, I was what you might call a little overindulged.”

“You mean you were a spoiled brat.”

“I preferred to see myself as a daddy’s girl but yeah, spoiled brat is pretty accurate. Anyway, I remember this one thing that happened when I was fifteen. Shane was home from college for the weekend and I was trying to look like Miss Big Shot and everything, so I show him this joint I bought off some guy at the movie theater. I guess I thought it would impress him or something, I don’t know. Anyway, he doesn’t really say much about it and later that night I go to my friend Alicia’s house because her parents are out of town and we can blaze up, right? Well, neither of us had ever smoked pot before so we didn’t know what it was supposed to smell like, but we did notice it stunk really bad. Like,
really
bad. But we smoked it anyway and pretended we were all high and stuff, even though it really didn’t do a thing for us.

“So later that night I get home and Shane asks me whether I still have that joint. And he’s smiling. I tell him no, I already smoked it and it was awesome. So then he starts laughing
hard
, I’m talking he’s rolling on the floor and he can’t even breathe, he’s laughing so hard. And I can’t figure out what he thinks is so damn funny.”

I shake my head and grimace at the memory. “Apparently at some point he had taken the joint out of my purse, unrolled it and replaced the pot with some dried grass and dog poop from the neighbor’s German Shepherd. Yeah. That’s right. He made me smoke dog crap. And let me tell you, I don’t recommend it.”

Melanie is reclined against the wooden chair, both hands folded across her stomach as she laughs until tears roll down her cheeks. “Oh, God…you smoked a turd…you’re a turd blazer…that is so gross…”

“Yeah, laugh it up.” Hm. On second thought, maybe this wasn’t the best story to extol the virtues of my wayward stepbrother. “Um…I guess my point is, I was highly pissed off at the time, but now I know he just did it to keep me out of trouble. And to teach me a lesson. And I have to appreciate him for that.”

“Are you sure he didn’t just do it for the entertainment factor? Because I gotta tell you, that is priceless!”

By now I’m laughing uncontrollably as well. It
is
pretty funny. “I don’t know. You could be right. I mean, he did give me an Oreo with toothpaste in it once.”

“He was probably trying to freshen your breath after you got through inhaling doo-doo!”

“It tasted…so nasty!” I gasp between giggles. “And here we were…me and Alicia…both of us pretending like it was the best thing ever!”

“Mmm…yummy! Fresh fecals!”

We’re both in such loud hysterics, a couple walking past turns and cranes their necks to see what is going on.

“Ow…ow…my ribs hurt,” she whimpers, wiping her eyes.

“That’s what you get for laughing at me!”

“I bet you never smoked pot again after that, did you?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I didn’t. So, see? He did a good thing after all.”

“Yeah, if you say so!”

I scoop up a handful of sand and sift through it aimlessly. “Are you ever gonna answer my question?”

“What question was that?”

“Do you like him or what?”

“Do I like who?”

“
Me
-la-niiie!”

“Okay, okay,” she chuckles. “Yes. I like him. Satisfied now?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how much?”

“Let’s just say it’s more than five and less than…eleven.”

“So you’re going to be seeing each other again soon?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“You hope so? What do you mean, you hope so? You don’t sit around hoping – you get in a car and you go. That’s how you make things happen.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because I would look desperate, that’s why not!”

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move.”

“I doubt it. That doesn’t sound like Shane.” Fiddling with one of her shoelaces, Melanie looks over at me with a sheepish expression. “I may have kinda told him I wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship. What am I supposed to say now?”

“That you changed your mind. Duh. And for the love of Pete, why would you say something like that in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I’m an idiot?”

Oh, hell’s bells. I can see I’m going to have to break out the big guns here. My next move is a dirty one. So dirty I’d be ashamed of myself if I had a conscience.

Good thing I don’t, right?

I gaze at her earnestly, pretending to be all serious. “Look. I wasn’t gonna say anything. But I don’t think I’d waste too much time if I were you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has Shane ever mentioned someone by the name of Audrey?”

“Audrey…his assistant?”

“Mm-hm. That’s the one.” I say nothing else, hoping to rouse her curiosity. She takes the bait so fast it’s almost funny.

“What about her?”

“To start with, she looks like a Victoria’s Secret mannequin sprang to life and put on heels and a lab coat. You know the type. Perfect hair, perfect body, perfect nails, perfect fake tits. And from what I’ve heard, she’s newly divorced and looking to play the field. Which wouldn’t be an issue except she’s got her sights set on my brother. Need I say more?”

“Crap. Crap, crap, crap.” Biting her bottom lip, Melanie shoots me a worried look. “You think he’s got something going with her?”

I brush aside the prickle of guilt and remind myself that I’m not doing this to be mean. “Not yet, no, but let me tell you, that woman does not take no for an answer. I’ve met her. She has the manipulative personality of a grade A bitch who doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants. And I’ve seen it in her eyes. The way she looks at him. She wants Shane.”

I can practically see the wheels turning in poor Melanie’s head as she pieces all this together. I feel like such a shit. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, but dammit, if this gets her motivated then it’ll end up being worth it.

Avoiding my gaze, she concentrates on digging the toe of one of her sneakers deep into the sand. “Do you think he wants her?”

“Not particularly, no. But trust me. A woman like that can be very persuasive.”

We both grow quiet as a middle-aged man in biker shorts goes jogging past us. He gives us a quick glance, acting all aloof, but he’s not fooling anyone. You just can’t trust a guy who wears shorts so tight you can see the outline of his frank and beans.

Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes and listen to the waves as they gently roll onshore. There’s never been a more peaceful sound than this. Someone should patent it as a cure for insomnia. You can’t listen to this and not melt into complete tranquility.

Beside me, Melanie says softly, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think Shane’s the type to cheat?”

Without opening my eyes, I shake my head. “No. Not at all. He’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known. But…it wouldn’t exactly be cheating, would it? I mean, you did say you told him you weren’t interested in a relationship. Didn’t you?”

She gives no response. But it doesn’t matter. My work here is done.

I have a hunch that when she leaves Atlanta, she’ll be heading north instead of south.

~ Chapter Twenty-Seven ~

There it is.