Since I've been editing the novel and not doing much in the way of writing, this week's teaser comes from Fade. Enjoy, everyone! And have a safe and happy 4th, my American loves!
I lifted my head to find Dad staring at me.
"Please, don't," I begged when he opened his mouth. "I don't want to know."
He narrowed his eyes and blew out a breath between his teeth, and then he nodded.
"Thanks," I said, relief running through me.
"Sure," he muttered and turned back to the food.
I hopped up to gather plates and utensils, feeling incredibly grateful that I had him. He didn't push and didn't interfere. He accepted. "Need tea?" I asked.
"Juice," he said and started whistling. The tune sounded less cheerful than usual.
I filled two glasses with apple juice then deposited them on the table before going back for the plates and forks. We worked in silence as I set the table and he finished the stir-fry.
"That was Dace on the phone, wasn't it?" I sighed, defeated, fiddling with the placement of my silverware.
Dad stopped stirring and nodded.
Of course it was Dace. "I suppose you have a message for me?"
"No," he said, his expression wary. "He was calling to check on you. He said he'd been calling . . . ." He trailed off with a shrug, not even mentioning how many times Dace had called the house since I'd returned yesterday.
Nineteen, including that one. He'd called my cell almost as many and hadn't left a single message. That hurt more than it should.
I dropped back down into my seat, scowling down at my glass.
"Did you two have a fight or something?" Dad asked, his voice steady, disinterested almost.
"Something like that," I mumbled, not sure how to classify what'd happened. Dace had simply left. No argument. No explanation. Nothing.
"Ah." Dad deposited the wok on the table.
I dished out a heaping helping for him and not so much for myself.
Dad frowned at the little bit on my plate, but didn't comment.
"Um . . . ." He cleared his throat as he picked up his fork. "He asked if he could stop by to talk to me this evening. I told him yes."
"What?" My head shot up.
Dad held up his hands. "I didn't know you were angry with him."
Great. Just great. I glowered, viciously stabbing a piece of chicken with my fork.
"I'll call and tell him not—"
"It's fine," I interrupted sharply. Too sharply. "Sorry," I said as his fork wavered near his mouth.
He quirked a brow.
"Really, it's fine." I told him, more calmly than before. "I have some reading to do anyway." We both knew that was a lie.
"If you're sure," he said, still hesitant.
"I'm sure," I lied, feeling anything but. That was my problem though, not his. Besides which, the house was big enough for both me and Dace for one evening. I would simply hide out until he was gone. No problem.
D'oh! Things are not all gravy for our wayward TA and his annoyed soul-mate at the moment. Looks like there's gonna be twouble, twouble. (Name that movie quote!)
*Dear, Keeper of the Cheerios: Yes, I cheated to find out who A is.