The Lake

THIRTY-SEVEN

It was dark on Del Mar tonight. Really dark.

A gentle wind disturbed the trees.

Scudding clouds hid the moon and stars from view.

Apart from the rustling leaves, it was quiet, too.

Deathly quiet.

Only Deana’s breath sounded harsh and loud as she hurried toward Warren’s house.

She hadn’t called him, as she’d told Mom she would. Instead, she’d decided to slip out again. Meet up with Warren as he walked Sabre.

I’m the midnight runner again.

A thrill of excitement brought goose bumps to her skin. The hair on the back of her neck rose and prickled.

It was scary out here on the street.

In the dead of night.

It may be scary, but the thrill of running alone through the night was worth every second.

Anyway, with Nelson gone, there wasn’t too much to be scared of.

Except Mommy Dearest and her dog.

Maybe a rapist or two.

And the black car.

Don’t forget the black car…

But she was a fast runner.

She could hide in shadows, dart down alleyways, or tackle anyone who looked like they were going to attack her.

Mom still didn’t know about her midnight runs.

Warren did, though.

And Mace.

Fuck Mace.

Somehow, though, she didn’t think he’d inform on her.

He’d keep it all to himself.

It was their little secret.

She shuddered.

She hated keeping things from Mom.

And she loathed the idea of being in league with Mace. The mere thought of it made her flesh crawl.

Anyway, she had too many midnight runs under her belt to start explaining things to Mom now.

Besides, I get a real kick out of it…

Could be I’m addicted to midnight running.

Can a person become addicted to running at night?

I guess so…

Nearly there now. I can see the two redwoods, their branches reaching out onto the street.

Where’s Warren?

Not here yet.

Deana felt a twinge of disappointment. It had been so romantic, thinking they’d meet up again this way.

And he’d be really surprised, and pleased, that she’d shown up again.

Tonight, when she saw him, she intended to invite him to dinner. She felt a squirm of excitement at the prospect of him coming to her home. Again.

This time, she wanted to show off a little.

’Cause Mom really knows how to throw a dinner party.

She’d look elegant, chatting to Warren. Charming him, but not too much, with her intelligent conversation.

She knows about books, too…

Deana ran on, her mind turning to her wardrobe. Mentally going through all of her clothes, deciding what she’d wear the night of the party.

A really big decision.

Maybe her new black dress with the low square neck? She knew it showed off her breasts and her small waist to perfection.

Well, maybe not that yet. Don’t want to scare him off.

Black’s way too formal, anyway. Because we’ll go somewhere after the meal.

Don’t bank on it, Deana.

Mom’d be suspicious. A new boyfriend and bunking off together already.

Like I did with Allan. The night Gran and Pops came to dinner…

Allan.

Deana West, you are a shit.

Allan dead only ten, eleven days and you’re out on some midnight tryst? Meeting up with a guy you’ve seen only three times before… And don’t forget. He already came to the house the other day…

Mom doesn’t know about that. She’d be real upset to know I’ve had Warren over and not told her about it. Not that anything happened. Didn’t get to discuss Mace, like I’d planned. We just talked about books and everything. Warren told me about his store, and promised to get me a copy of Get Shorty by Elmore Leonard.

And now you’re drooling on about going out with him after the wonderful dinner Mom is gonna put on—specially for the benefit of her darling daughter.

The darling daughter who lies through her teeth.

What a bitch I am… Soon as I introduce Warren to Mom, there’ll be no more lies. Promise.