“Come on, boys,” Jim waved them to the door. “Eggs, bacon, potato pancakes and orange juice are waiting.” Still in their pajamas, the boys ran out the door with Jim close on their heels. The three of them created a thumping racket on the steps.
Emmitt stood by the door, studying me. “You didn’t sleep.” Disapproval laced his words. His eyes drifted to the tablet and then the piece of paper.
I blinked at him stupidly, my brain replaced with fuzz. What had he expected when he handed me a cool new toy two hours before midnight? Of course, I stayed up to play with it. My eyes followed his to the paper. And I did some darn good work, too.
His movement interrupted my drifting thoughts. Two strides brought him across the room. A twist and lift had me up in his arms before I could squeal. He marched me to the bedroom, set me gently on the bed, and pulled a sheet up to cover me.
I didn’t fight it much. Having the bed to myself felt lovely. I forced a weak protest for appearance’ sake. “But I have stock information for Nana’s friend.”
“It can wait until you’ve slept a bit.” He hung a blanket over the blinds to keep out all light.
“But...”
“Sleep, Michelle. I’ll be listening.” He closed the door.
My lips twitched in the dark. Plan perfectly executed.
The ticker tape woke me. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I threw back the sheet and got out of bed. The still, warm air in the room left me feeling hot and sticky. Grumbling about stocks and lack of rain, I grabbed a change of clothes and stumbled to the bathroom.
As I showered on autopilot, I focused on the information playing in my mind and struggled to recall the closing rate from my research. Nothing came to mind. A seed of doubt sprouted. I rinsed, shut off the shower, and pulled on clothes while still partially wet. Why couldn’t I remember?
Hair dripping onto my shirt, I yanked open the bathroom door and flew to the island. My eyes devoured the notes. I pulled the paper closer, my brain denying what my eyes saw.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I whispered fiercely. I’d stayed up all night. And for what? Some unknown entity to pop into my head. What did I need to do to catch a freak’n break?
I crumpled up the paper and threw the ball out the open French doors, watching it sail over the railing. Grabbing a new sheet, I set to work again, my fingers dancing over the tablet’s smooth glass as I tried to figure out how to prove this new premonition viable. The scratch of my pencil against the paper kept the ticker in my head company.
Deep in thought, reading an article about the business in question, I noticed the sudden silence in my head. The ticker had just stopped. Turned off. I looked at the paper next to me where I’d started my notes about the business. In the top corner, I’d written out the premonition like a recommendation. I knew writing it down wouldn’t turn it off. It never had before. But I had no other explanation. Setting down the pencil, I moved to pick up the paper.
“What are you going?”
Emmitt’s voice ripped a startled yell from me. Swiveling on the stool, I held a hand to my heart and gave him a wide-eyed look.
“Obviously, four hours of sleep isn’t enough.” He stood just behind me, reading the paper over my shoulder. “Why are you doing this?” he asked nodding to the paper. “And why did this one fly?” He held up the wrinkled sheet I’d tossed out the window.
“I know investments. Stocks. Richard invested. It’s the only way I can pay you back.” He arched a brow at the crumpled paper, obviously wondering about it. “Another thought woke me. That one wasn’t right,” I said, motioning to the wadded paper he held.
“Back to bed.” He tilted his head indicating I should get moving.
“I’m not five. I don’t need to be told to go to bed.”
“Of course you’re not five. A five-year-old would listen.”
His words hurt a little. The scowl fell from my face, and I eyed him, wondering about his attitude. He didn’t appear angry.
He saw something in my expression or scented something related to my emotions because he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, setting his chin on the top of my head. He didn’t seem to mind my wet hair. My cheek rested against his chest.
“I’m worried,” he admitted. “Last night you seemed fine with everything that happened yesterday, but then you didn’t sleep.” He paused for so long I thought he’d finished talking, but then he asked softly, “Are you planning on leaving?”
Leaving? Despite everything I’d learned, I still felt safest here. “No, Emmitt. I’m not leaving.” He hugged me close, causing my stomach and heart to go crazy. I forced myself to keep still.
He cleared his throat and stepped back.
“Since you don’t want more sleep, do you want to come outside? Jim and I were talking about going into town for a few things.”