He was so loud, she dared not follow. After scrambling to get back in the car, she tore off, ignoring the groaning of the BMW's struts when she raced over one bump or another. The car didn't matter. She had to get out of sight before Rover attracted someone's attention.
And then she had to think of a way to break the news to Colin.
Chapter 2
Samantha Duncan had never been so bored in her life. She'd thought it would be neat to skip school. But any "fun" had ended the first week. With her mother working all day, Sam found it too quiet and lonely at home.
Especially this home. Although it was by far the best house they'd ever lived in, she no longer cared about the "amenities," as her mother called them. She felt like excess baggage--an inconvenience Anton Lucassi tolerated for the privilege of sleeping in her mother's bed.
But she didn't want to think about that. It gave her a stomachache on top of the fatigue. She needed to "occupy her mind with something constructive"--another saying her mother had picked up after hanging around with Lucassi. What exactly that should be, they never explained. But she needed to figure out some form of entertainment. It was only Monday.
She wasn't sure how she'd get through another four days until the weekend, rambling around the place on her own. The fact that there'd be a third week and then a fourth of the same misery nearly brought her to tears. The kids slaving away at school were the lucky ones.
The telephone rang. Lifting her head from the chaise, she shaded her eyes against the glare coming off the pool and groaned--it was her mother's fiance. Again. Anton was such an uptight freak. What did he want this time?
She almost didn't answer, but she knew he'd call back if she didn't.
"Why'd my mother have to get with you?" she grumbled and pressed the Talk button. "Hello?" She used a sleepy voice, hoping to convince him he'd awakened her from a nap, but he didn't seem to care.
"Sam?"
Did he expect someone else to be answering his phone? "Yes?"
"You're not leaving the TV projector on all day, are you?"
That was why he'd called? "No."
"Good. The bulb doesn't last very long, and they cost over three hundred dollars to replace."
"I didn't know that," she said. But it was just her way of being a smartass without getting in trouble for it. He'd told her about the bulb at least a hundred times. He had her mother so nervous she'd break his stupid projector that Zoe had bought Sam her own DVD player and asked her not to even use his TV. Fortunately, Sam liked movies. She liked to read, too.
But it'd be nice to watch a TV show to break up the monotony. It wasn't as if she had an unlimited source of movies and books.
"It's not a toy," he was saying.
Did she treat it like a toy? "Got it."
"So, what are you doing?"
"Not destroying anything."
"What?"
She'd mumbled the words because she knew it wouldn't be smart to let him hear. "I said I was sleeping."
Again, he ignored the opportunity to apologize for disturbing her.
"You're not out by the pool, are you?"
Was there something wrong with that, too? "Actually, I am. I thought I might as well tan while I slept."
"Don't get any oil on the cushions of those lounge chairs."
"They were expensive," she mouthed as he said the words, and rolled over in disgust. "I'm not using any oil."
"You're not upset, are you? Just because I'm trying to teach you to take care of personal property?"
He'd noticed her tone. Squeezing her eyes shut, she focused her energy on hiding the irritation that made her want to scream, "Go away and never talk to me again!" She would've done it if not for her mom. Zoe was so excited to finally have something and be someone. Samantha didn't want to ruin it for her; she'd already ruined enough just by being born. "I'm not upset."
"Good girl. Have you heard from your mother?"
Not half as often as she heard from him, although Zoe's calls were far more welcome. "She checks on me when she can. If the people at her work weren't such jerks, we'd be able to talk more." Her mother had tried to stop by for lunch last week and nearly been fired because the length of the drive had made her late.
"They're not jerks. That's the real world, Sam. She has to be responsible to her employers, just as you'll have to be responsible to your employers someday."
Thanks for the lecture. How did her mother put up with this guy?
"Sam?" he said when she didn't answer.
"I'm here. But...I'm really tired."
"Okay, I'll let you go back to sleep."
"Thanks. By the way, I turned off all the lights in the house." She was making fun of him again, but he didn't get it.
"Glad to know you're listening. I'll see you later." Not later enough for her, but she forced herself to end the conversation on a positive note, mostly because she thought it was funny to be overly polite.
"Thanks for calling." She smiled. He had no clue how she really felt about him, or that she understood exactly how he really felt about her, despite what he pretended to her mom.
As she hung up, she was distracted by the sound of a door opening and closing in the neighbors' backyard. Tiffany and Colin Bell weren't normally home during the day.
Drawn by signs of life beyond her own lonely existence, Samantha got up and crossed the freshly mowed grass. Still weak from mono, she walked slowly, but she could tell she was getting stronger. The doctor said she'd be back to her old self soon. She was almost two weeks into what he called a "four-week cycle," whatever that meant. As long as she could return to school, she didn't care.
She managed to reach the fence. She could already hear Anton scolding her for stepping into the flower bed the gardeners had planted a month ago, but purposely ignored the fact that it would make him mad. It was because of this stupid flower bed, and all the others in the yard, that she'd had to give up her dog to that family Anton had found. She still couldn't believe her mom had gone along with that.
Hoping whoever had come outside hadn't gone back in, she peered through a knothole. The wife of the attractive couple she occasionally spoke to out front was there. But Tiffany Bell wasn't dressed for work as she'd expected. An employee at some nursing home, she usually wore a uniform--a cheery floral smock with blue scrubs and squishy white nurse's shoes.
Today, she had on a holey pair of jeans, some grubby tennis shoes and a Tshirt tight enough to make her boobs look even bigger than they did beneath her nursing smock.