Read Online Dead Is So Last Year by Marlene Perez - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marlene Perez
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Dad disappeared. I was only twelve.
"I'm glad Mom's still in Italy," Poppy said. "She'd freak out if it turns out Dad is in town and just hasn't contacted us!"
The phone rang. It was Mom, calling long distance. I was really glad she couldn't see us, because I'm sure our faces all looked guilty.
We chatted for a few minutes about what she was doing in Italy, although she was evasive about the particulars of the case she was working on. Then she asked, "How's everything going there?"
I exchanged glances with my sisters, knowing we were thinking the same thing. We couldn't tell her, not yet.
But how much longer would we have before she came home and found out herself?
"Well, we were planning a welcome-home dinner. Any idea of how much longer you'll be there?" I was fishing for information, but it wasn't a bad idea, anyway. After all, Mom had been gone a long time. She deserved a warm welcome when she returned. I knew my best cooking efforts couldn't compare with the delicious meals we'd eaten in Italy, but I'd try to make Mom a truly memorable dinner.
I couldn't help but feel that maybe I was planning to cook a meal for her to silence my guilty conscience.
She sighed. "I'm afraid this case isn't winding up as quickly as I had anticipated. I'll be gone for at least another two weeks."
We had some time, then. And she wouldn't hear any rumors before then, not all the way in Italy. Besides, Mom had turned a deaf ear to gossip a long time ago. How else could she cope with the rumors that Dad had run off with another woman?
Part of me thought that I should tell Mom that Dad might be back in town, but I just couldn't get the words out.
That night I had the strangest dream, probably due to the lethal combination of guilt and nachos. In the dream, I saw my father's death. My sisters and I were there, but we did nothing. He was on the ground, in agony, and we were oblivious. Needless to say, I woke up gasping and sweaty, thinking that I'd have to ask Rose and Poppy to shed some light on my dream later, if they could. I'd heard about people who made predictions based on their dreams, but to my knowledge, no one in our family had that ability.
I did know that I needed to get to the diner, however, so I threw on my clothes and hurried to work.
The dream lingered with me throughout the day. Was it just a nightmare or a manifestation of a precognitive ability I didn't know I possessed?
Afterwork, I was ambling along, tired from a long day, when I spotted the man again, dressed in the same outfit as before, walking in the opposite direction. He carried a large donut box and kept sniffing at it.
Tired or not, I had to follow him, if only to figure out if it really was my father or just a look-alike. I trailed him from a good distance, but he never even looked in my direction.
When I breathed in the wonderful scent of flowers, I realized we were nearing Natalie's grandmother's garden.
Dad, or the stranger who resembled him, paused only a fraction of a second, then vaulted the picket fence around Mrs. Mason's backyard. I was working up the nerve to do the same, when I heard a car, which pulled into Natalie's driveway.
Mrs. Mason and Natalie were home and, by the looks on their faces, wondering what the heck I was doing camped out in their front yard.
"Hi, there," I said, smiling brightly as they got out of the car. "I dropped by on the spur of the moment. I thought you might like another cooking lesson."
From the corner of my eye, I saw the shrubs moving. I'm pretty sure Mrs. Mason saw the movement, too, although her expression didn't change. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Another time, perhaps?" And with that, she took Natalie by the arm and marched into the house.
I looked around, but my father, or whoever he was, had vanished.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
My sisters and I planned to investigate our newly returned father but, unfortunately, had no idea of his whereabouts. You would think that in a town the size of Nightshade, it
"I'm glad Mom's still in Italy," Poppy said. "She'd freak out if it turns out Dad is in town and just hasn't contacted us!"
The phone rang. It was Mom, calling long distance. I was really glad she couldn't see us, because I'm sure our faces all looked guilty.
We chatted for a few minutes about what she was doing in Italy, although she was evasive about the particulars of the case she was working on. Then she asked, "How's everything going there?"
I exchanged glances with my sisters, knowing we were thinking the same thing. We couldn't tell her, not yet.
But how much longer would we have before she came home and found out herself?
"Well, we were planning a welcome-home dinner. Any idea of how much longer you'll be there?" I was fishing for information, but it wasn't a bad idea, anyway. After all, Mom had been gone a long time. She deserved a warm welcome when she returned. I knew my best cooking efforts couldn't compare with the delicious meals we'd eaten in Italy, but I'd try to make Mom a truly memorable dinner.
I couldn't help but feel that maybe I was planning to cook a meal for her to silence my guilty conscience.
She sighed. "I'm afraid this case isn't winding up as quickly as I had anticipated. I'll be gone for at least another two weeks."
We had some time, then. And she wouldn't hear any rumors before then, not all the way in Italy. Besides, Mom had turned a deaf ear to gossip a long time ago. How else could she cope with the rumors that Dad had run off with another woman?
Part of me thought that I should tell Mom that Dad might be back in town, but I just couldn't get the words out.
That night I had the strangest dream, probably due to the lethal combination of guilt and nachos. In the dream, I saw my father's death. My sisters and I were there, but we did nothing. He was on the ground, in agony, and we were oblivious. Needless to say, I woke up gasping and sweaty, thinking that I'd have to ask Rose and Poppy to shed some light on my dream later, if they could. I'd heard about people who made predictions based on their dreams, but to my knowledge, no one in our family had that ability.
I did know that I needed to get to the diner, however, so I threw on my clothes and hurried to work.
The dream lingered with me throughout the day. Was it just a nightmare or a manifestation of a precognitive ability I didn't know I possessed?
Afterwork, I was ambling along, tired from a long day, when I spotted the man again, dressed in the same outfit as before, walking in the opposite direction. He carried a large donut box and kept sniffing at it.
Tired or not, I had to follow him, if only to figure out if it really was my father or just a look-alike. I trailed him from a good distance, but he never even looked in my direction.
When I breathed in the wonderful scent of flowers, I realized we were nearing Natalie's grandmother's garden.
Dad, or the stranger who resembled him, paused only a fraction of a second, then vaulted the picket fence around Mrs. Mason's backyard. I was working up the nerve to do the same, when I heard a car, which pulled into Natalie's driveway.
Mrs. Mason and Natalie were home and, by the looks on their faces, wondering what the heck I was doing camped out in their front yard.
"Hi, there," I said, smiling brightly as they got out of the car. "I dropped by on the spur of the moment. I thought you might like another cooking lesson."
From the corner of my eye, I saw the shrubs moving. I'm pretty sure Mrs. Mason saw the movement, too, although her expression didn't change. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Another time, perhaps?" And with that, she took Natalie by the arm and marched into the house.
I looked around, but my father, or whoever he was, had vanished.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
My sisters and I planned to investigate our newly returned father but, unfortunately, had no idea of his whereabouts. You would think that in a town the size of Nightshade, it
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