Page 67 of Hiss and Make Up
A few seconds later, he heard her voice again, softer this time. “Yeah. I know. I’ve got work in a bit. I’ll talk to you later.”
He waited for a minute that felt like an hour before he forced his feet to shuffle into the doorway and knock.
“Hey.” She smiled sheepishly at him. No awkward acknowledgment that she knew he was listening. “Your head looks better.”
He nodded. “Feels better. I’m gonna make coffee and feed the dog. Then we need to go.” His voice had an edge that matched the tightness in his gut, so he left the room before she could ask what was wrong. If she even noticed. She probably didn’t care.
This was for the best. She didn’t need to put herself in danger, and he sure as hell didn’t need to worry about keeping her safe. He had enough to worry about.
As much as it hurt hearing her conversation, he figured he was better off hearing it now before he fell off the deep end.
Who was he kidding? It was already too late.
This was going to hurt like hell.
It already did.
* * *
Sierra crouched at the edge of the boardwalk and pointed her long stick at a web with a large orange spider. It was about six inches long. A small female.
“Does anyone know what this is?”
The herd of children clustered around her, shoving and climbing over each other for a better look. Along with a few screeches and gasps, they shouted five different answers at her, some of which weren’t even types of spiders.
“No, look again. Has anyone seen this before?”
One tiny hand went up in the back of the crowd. She couldn’t see the kid it belonged to. Most likely the runt of the classroom litter.
“In the back. Have you seen this before?”
A little boy stepped to the side and nodded. She couldn’t help but smile at the kid—quiet, awkward, and full of curiosity.
“Want to tell us where you’ve seen it?”
“In the woods. At my grandma’s house.”
“And did your grandma tell you what it was?”
He nodded again.
She raised her eyebrows and nodded at him, willing the kid to speak. He knew the answer. She could always tell. The hard part was getting them to trust themselves and not worry what anyone thought if they said the right answer. Or the wrong one.
“A silk spider.”
“Yes! That’s right.” She nodded at him. “What’s your name?”
“Shawn,” he stammered.
“Shawn’s right. A lot of people around here call them banana spiders, but we don’t have true banana spiders here. This is a golden silk spider. Nice work, Shawn.”
Their teacher caught Sierra’s eye and pointed at her wrist, the universal signal for,It’s time to head back for our picnic lunch. Sierra turned the group around, and the class followed her like a pack of ducklings. Thankfully, not her ducklings. She got to answer their questions, enjoy their enthusiasm, and hand them off to their teacher and chaperons for the less-fun stuff—bathroom breaks, handing out napkins, and making sure everyone made it back on the bus. Sierra definitely had the better deal.
Back inside, Dale leaned back in his green chair, while he sipped his third coffee of the morning. “How’d it go?”
“Good. The usual. No problems. They’re having lunch now.”
“Good, good.”
