Madly

Chapter Nine

Wes looked around, surveying the situation. Keaton was right. People were everywhere. There were yards and yards of fabrics colored in blues and green and aquamarine. There were huge bags of sand of the same colors being deposited into glass vases almost as tall as Wes was.

A lanky guy approached, balancing a ream of fabric over his shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said. “Where is the rooftop access?”

“You have to go out the door and turn left. The stairs are there but you have to wait. The girl next door can’t see any of this happening.”

“Right,” the man said. “We were told this is top secret.”

“Give it like twenty more minutes. She’ll be gone by then.”

“Here.” Keaton held out a string of Christmas lights. “You can help untangle these things. My brother obviously bought them from the bargain bin.”

“It’s summer, Keaton. I had to improvise.”

Keaton nodded. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

The idea struck him during a particularly long stretch of silence driving home from the campground and after he’d implemented his sister’s extensive shopping skills and drafted Keaton and Drew to volunteer, the rest was going according to plan. Rowyn still thought she was coming to a house party and looking around, he knew they were still on schedule.  

As Keaton, the tall guy and Wes began to untangle the lights, Keaton asked. “Where’s Drew?”

“No idea. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. I’m sure he’ll show up,” Wes said. “He’s probably making peace with Mother Nature or that Copeland girl.”

Rowyn loved lobster but she rarely ate it: it wasn’t exactly prime food for solo dining so when she was awarded the opportunity to enjoy it in the company of someone else, she never turned it down.

The day had been everything she’d been missing. Maybe she was wrong about her dad, because every time someone recognized him while they were out, he would stop and proudly introduce her.

They talked about his tour, especially this last one which had kept him from home longer than normal. She told him about Wes and how she’d tried to keep him away and about how it didn’t work at all. Talking to her father came a lot easier face to face and although she was happier than she’d felt in a long time, she was sad to know she’d been missing out on the relationship for so long. Better late than never, she supposed. They’d bought a cheap painting from a street artist and watched buskers who got a major case of the nerves when they realized they were singing for Jeff Riley on a street corner.

By the time they’d eaten dinner, dark circles under her father’s eyes were defined and he was yawning.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“What time is it in Japan right now?”

He looked at his watch. “It’s 8:00 AM tomorrow morning,” he said.

“So you haven’t technically slept?”

“No. Not yet.” 

“How are you still standing?”

He yawned. “It’s getting harder by the minute.”

Rowyn scooped the napkin off of her lap and set in on the table. “We should go, then,” she said. “You need to rest and I have a party to go to with Wes.”

Her father stood and wrapped an arm lazily over her shoulder. “If I weren’t so tired I’d demand to meet this Wesley character but you’ve got a good head on shoulders,” he continued. “No doubt your mother’s doing so I’ll trust that he’s good to you.”