was straggling out after getting tumbled every which way,
seaweed stuck in her hair, sand gritty between her teeth, salt
water stinging her eyes and lungs.
Dallas passed Billy’s hat to her other hand. That left her
right hand free to ring the bell. She extended it and let it hover
like a foreign object, in midair. For a minute, it felt like her
hand wasn’t even attached to her body. Like someone had
detached her arm and given her a stranger’s arm when she
wasn’t looking with some really speedy surgery and super
glue.
Could a person super glue an arm on?
Running wasn’t an option. She’d been there, done that and
it hadn’t worked out so well. She was back, and, if what Quinn
said was correct, there were no lions or wolves in there. Just
people who missed her and really wanted to see her again.
This is
crazy. I’m getting all worried and nervous for
nothing. Everyone was like family to me. Quinn said they
understand. It’s going to be okay. Even if anyone’s still
grouchy with me, it’s Danica’s birthday. No one is going to
want to ruin it for her by chewing me a new arsehole for being
a thoughtless arsehole in the past.
She finally made herself push the dang bell. It chimed
through the house and in a few seconds the door creaked open
and there was Mrs. Smyth. Dallas felt that first names weren’t
really appropriate. She’d always called Katrina Mrs. Smyth
because her parents wanted her to be respectful, and even as a
teenager, she’d only ever been on a first name basis with
Willford because he seemed to find it ultra-offensive to be
called Mr. Smyth.