Three
There was no answer.
Oscar glared at the door. Now what?
He knocked again, a little louder this time, and even opened it a crack to peek inside. “Hello? Teddy?”
Again, no answer.
Maybe she’d gone somewhere. But he hadn’t seen a car, either parked or coming or going.
She could have gone for a walk, he supposed. But…he’d better check.
“Teddy?” He stepped through the door and found himself in a small vestibule with two more doors. One, he guessed, would open to the bedroom she was using—that one was ajar—and the other possibly to the outside. Or maybe to the core of the lighthouse, to the presumptive spiral staircase that would lead to the top. “Helloooo? Teddy? It’s Oscar.”
He was just about to ease back through to the living room when he heard a sound like a low, agonized moan.
“Teddy?” he called louder, starting toward the door that was slightly open. “Are you all right?”
He didn’t wait for another response; he pushed open the door. He had a split second of seeing her hunched over a table or desk, headphones covering her ears, before she jolted, turned, and screamed.
“Ohmigod,” she shrieked in a slightly lower volume, clapping a hand to her chest. “You scared thehellout of me!” She pulled off her headphones and settled them around her neck.
He blinked, collected his thoughts, and managed to say, “I heard— It sounded like you were in pain. I thought— I’m sorry—”
“Iamin pain,” she said, standing so abruptly that her chair fell backward. “Look at that! Justlook!” She stabbed a finger toward the laptop, which was open on the desk.
He stepped forward cautiously, suddenly acutely aware that he was in her bedroom and that the bed wasright there. The sheets were rumpled and the pillows were in a lumpy pile. There was a bra and a pair of lacy pink panties—he averted his eyes quickly—slung over a chair, along with a blue dress the same color as her eyes.
“Uh,” he said, picking up the chair she’d knocked over and relieved to have that distraction. “What?”
“Do you see that?”
“I see…a computer screen.”
“And what’s on it?” she demanded, hands on her hips, loose headphone cord swinging across her chest.
“Um…it’s white. And it saysChapter Ten.”
“That’s right.” Her voice had dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Chapter Ten. Do you know how long I’ve been working on Chapter Ten, Oscar?”
“How long?” He was already regretting his act of gallantry to check on her.
“Two months, Oscar.Two bloody monthsI’ve been working on Chapter Mother-Fracking-Ten.”
“You—uh—don’t have much written,” he said, feeling his way. “That I can—uh—see.”
“No,” she replied in that alarmingly quiet voice. “No, I don’t.”
“Okay, well, then,” he said, backing out of the room. “I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Right.”
Oscar made his escape and was just opening the connecting door when he stopped and turned back. She’d sounded so…miserable. So defeated.
“And she’s got to eat,” he said. In his own defense.
He walked back to her bedroom door. Just before he knocked, he heard another pained moan from within. That removed his last bit of hesitation. “Teddy?”
