Yet…
There was this knot in my stomach, and I didn’t know if I could untangle it.
“What do you think?” Connor asked. His eyes had grown glassy. “How does that sound to you?”
“I think that sounds really nice,” I said truthfully, because I couldn’t find the strength to agree or disagree. “Connor, you are the most—”
“LOKI!” came a call, and I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sharp whistle that followed. It sounded like the dog’s owners were right outside our tent.
“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled, heart thudding hard.
“You can say that again,” Connor said, then sighed. “Should we walk back and sleep in the Annex? I don’t think Meredith will mind if we crash in the sitting room.”
Wanting out of this tent and away from my guilt, I agreed.
Loki barked our whole way back.
Twenty-four
I woke up early and a little achy on the floor. Worried about waking Wit and Meredith, Connor and I hadn’t done much to make ourselves comfortable last night. We’d cobbled together a couple patchwork quilts and couch cushions for pillows.
It also appeared that we’d fallen asleep holding hands. It took a couple blinks to realize where I was and that I was holding our clasped hands to my heart.
Connor was still passed out, so I lightly kissed his knuckles before unlacing our fingers and rising from our nest on the floor. Something delicious-smelling wafted in from the kitchen, and I followed it to find Meredith slicing strawberries at the small granite countertop and Wit pouring coffee. “Morning, Olivia!” He smiled and held up a pink-and-blue cow printed mug. “Coffee? We suspect you didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I amso sorry,” Meredith said. “Loki is my family’s dog, and he’s unfortunately gone rogue in his old age.” She shook her head as I faintly remembered Swede meeting a “Loki” on the ferry. AJack Russell Terrier. “And I feel awful you slept on the floor when the bunk room was empty…”
“Please don’t worry about it,” I told her as Wit handed me my coffee. “We were mentally prepared to camp already.”
Meredith laughed. “Right, so now you deserve a five-star breakfast. The frittatas are in the oven, and based on the aroma, I think they have plenty of promise.”
“I’ll go wake Connor,” I said, then I retreated to the cozy sitting room. Connor was unsurprisingly still dead to the world, although he’d shifted so that he was on his back with an arm thrown lazily over his head.
He looked both adorable and handsome, and the warmth blooming in my chest told me I needed to take a picture. I needed to capture Connor, in case…
Well, in case nothing. I refused to let my mind drift to last night.
But my phone wasn’t hidden in our blankets or under the couch cushions. I couldn’t even find it in the deep depths of my tote bag, which probably meant I’d accidentally left it behind in the tent last night. After Connor and I’d decided to bail, we’d hurried to grab only the essentials and left the rest until we returned to dismantle the tent. My phone must’ve been forgotten in the late-night shuffle.
Paqua Farm was very gray today. Above was an overcast sky, and in the distance churned a dull ocean. The trees, meadow, and flowers all appeared muted, and I shivered when the breeze snuckup on me. There was no one around, not even a distant bark from Loki. It felt gloomy, maybe even a little ominous.
Have the Foxes have ever considered renting to Hollywood?I wondered as I followed the trail toward our abandoned tent.You could film a seriously melancholic period drama here…
I doubted Meredith would find that flattering.
My phone lay face down a few feet outside the tent; I must’ve dropped it when we fled. I crouched to pick it up, and was surprised to find it still had some battery. And even more surprised to see some notifications since I had next to no signal. A couple emails, an Instagram DM from Quincy, several texts, and about forty minutes ago, I’d missed a call from my dad.
The last one spiked my pulse.
Why had my dad called me?
He’d also left a voicemail, but it wouldn’t load.Everything alright?I texted him, and when the message took its sweet time to send, I tried to call him. Twice. The first attempt made a valiant effort to connect; the second immediately dropped.
Heart hammering, I ran back toward the Annex. Because something had to be wrong, right? My dad wouldn’t callandleave a message if he just wanted to check in, or know what time Connor and I would be back later. Was Swede projectile vomiting something he’d eaten? Did Bryce accidentally refracture his wrist? Had Maisie choked on grapes at breakfast? She liked to goof off, tossing them in the air and catching them in her mouth…
Or, I didn’t want to think, but did.Or…
Had something happened back home?
