CHAPTER 24 - Part 1

Christmas is in five days! Yikes. I'm never ready, but this year--between keeping up daily posts here--and the wonderful, shocking, overwhelming news that SING ME TO SLEEP was nominated for a Goodreads Choice Award, I'm more behind than ever. Don't worry, though. Short post today. I'm heading out shopping with my boys. I have to admit, if I couldn't shop online, nothing much would get bought.

I hope to see all of you tomorrow at my first solo live Tweet Chat. I'm going to try to use Tweetdeck so my comments will post to my FaceBook wall, too. Comment there if you want to join in but are anti-Tweet! Otherwise, come join the fun. 4:00-4:30 PM MST and 9:00-9:30 PM. Follow me @ liv2writ and add #liv2writ to every tweet so everyone following can see your questions. Come with lots of questions. I'm looking forward to it.

Okay. Short Michael Dive log--partly because I need to go Christmas shopping and partly because this is a rest in between poems for Leesie. She needs to narrate the scene with Pres. X (that poor guy--I need to name him!), so Michael gets a turn here. I want his reaction to the phone call anyways.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MICHAEL’S DIVE LOG – VOLUME 10

Dive Buddy: Leesie           

Date:  06/17

Dive #:

Location: Grand Cayman

Dive Site:

Weather Condition:

Water Condition:

Depth:  

Visibility: 

Water Temp: 

Bottom Time:  

Comments:

            Everyone else is asleep when Leesie slides back open the balcony door. I’m awake in my cot. I whisper, “Babe,” get up, trip over Ethan. He curses me, rolls over, and farts.

            This could be Leesie’s last night. For all I know, her parents want her to get on a plane tomorrow and go home.  I’ll quit, go with her. They okay here with Dani back. I hate to bail and leave them short-handed, but Leesie comes first. And maybe if I take her home, it’ll get me a little on her parents’ good side. I did call her dad—and he was grateful—but I also stole their daughter. Do they understand why I did it? What did Leesie tell them?

            And then there’s Mr. Branch President dude. Who knows what crazy stuff he’s got in line. Probably, same idea. An airline ticket home. Best I can imagine is an apartment I can rent for her. A marriage license? If he insists, I’m not going to debate it. Not any more. It’s out of my hands. It’s all up to her now.

            I reach Leesie. She’s pretty much drenched in tears and other facial fluid. “You okay?”

            She holds her hands out for me and starts crying again. I step out into the warm night air on the balcony. “Hey, hey, hush now. I’m here.” I fold her up in my arms. “Are they making you come home?”

            Her voice squeaks through her tears. “Dad says I can stay here as long as we need to.”

            I close my eyes, don’t want to say this. “I can take you home tomorrow. Just say the word.”

            A shudder moves through her body. “Let’s talk to Pres. X first.”

            “Does your dad have a shot gun? Or that razor knife. Is he buying new blades?”

            She shakes her head—trying to remember. “He said something really sweet about calling you, ‘son.’”

            “He always does that.”

            “He meant it different this time.”

            I rest my lips on her silky soft head. “What does that mean?”

            She bites her trembling lip. “I think it means you can’t get rid of me no matter what.”

            “Even if I’m not a Mormon?”

“My dad’s got a lot of faith.” She sniffs and loses it again.

I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. So far—it’s all good. “Were they angry?” I sit on the chaise lounge and pull her down beside me.

            She shakes her head and speaks into my shoulder. “We were all devastated together.”

            I stroke her head. “You’ve been holding all that in.”

            “It’s coming out now.” She wipes her hand down her face. “All over you.”

            I squeeze her. “Any time, babe.”

            “24/7?”

            “If that’s what it takes.”

            “I don’t deserve you.”

            “I don’t deserve you.”

            “No way we’re even.”

            I kiss her nose. “Don’t worry. I’ll collect.”

            “Michael!” She slugs my arm.

            I love every note of her protest. I kiss her to make sure. All her old barriers are back up. “Freak.” I rub my face against hers. “You’re back. You’re really back.”