Richard Laymon - The Lake

Some head, first, honey. Just to get things moving…

A cold shudder ran through her body.

A lot of guys like their head, she reasoned.

It’s all part of the foreplay.

But she’d reacted in such a goddamn crazy way. Like a dumb kid crying “rape.”

On the other hand, if what Mattie implied was true, that whole darn episode could be a taste of things to come…

THIRTY-SIX

“Hi, Mom. Thought I heard voices.”

“That’s right, honey. Mattie dropped by. To see how we’re doin’. Just checking.” She gave Deana a bright smile. “Want some coffee? It’s still hot. Or will be, once I’ve perked it up a little.”

Leigh switched on the percolator. Still thinking about Mattie. What was it with her? She fancy Mace herself, or something?

Way she went on, she all but hated him.

I’ve heard there’s a fine line between love and hate.

Could be she’s just plain jealous…

“Hey, Mom. The coffee’s perked. Pour mine while I get dressed, will you?”

“What did your last one die of, young lady?”

“The usual. Lack of breath, I guess.” Deana left the room, smiling. Mom was the best. Always so cool and nice about everything.

She felt a stab of guilt.

She didn’t like having secrets from Mom. It felt like betraying a friend.

Slipping into blue jeans and a yellow T-shirt, Deana decided the time was ripe to introduce Mom to Warren.

She’d like him. He was so sensible and grown up.

And he had his own business.

That ought to impress her.

Deana returned to the kitchen, her ponytail swinging jauntily. Mom was at the sink, rinsing out the two used coffee mugs. Deana picked up hers from the table.

Wisps of aromatic steam met her nostrils.

She felt better already.

I gotta tell Mom about Warren.

How shall I play it?

Dummy. Why not tell it like it is?

Just go for it, Deana.

“Mom.”

“Yes, dear?”

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Guy called Warren Hastings. Lives on Del Mar with his sister. And his dog, Sabre.”

Leighed perked up. She turned to face Deana.

Deana had met someone so soon?

“And how did you meet this…Warren, honey?”

Deana grimaced slightly. The next bit wasn’t gonna be quite so simple.

“He owns a bookstore, Mom. In San Anselmo.”

Yeah. San Anselmo. Where Allan and I were supposed to have gone to the movies that night.

“I ordered a book by phone one day…”

She cringed.

More lies. My God . I can’t believe I’m doing this. What am I—the original daughter from hell?

“But how romantic, honey. You should have told me. And is he nice, this Warren?”

“Yes, he’s real nice, Mom. You’d like him.”

“So when do I get to meet…Warren?”

“I’ll give him a call today. We can arrange something.”

“Dinner would be fine. Just let me know. I’ll get something sent over from the restaurant.”

Leigh’s mind slid back to the night Deana brought Allan to dinner. When he’d met Mom and Dad—was it only ten days ago?

My God.

What can happen in ten days!

Your world turned upside down; a boy dead; your daughter devastated by it all.

Although she appears to be getting over it…

And Nelson…Thank God Mom and Dad hadn’t been around to see it all happen.

She hated herself for even thinking this way, but it was a blessing Mom and Dad made that emergency dash to Colorado. And if it didn’t seem so awful on Aunt Abby, she hoped Mom and Dad would stay there a while longer…

Deana smiled at Leigh.

“Good thing Gran and Pops are in Boulder. They would’ve made things ten times worse. Pops shouting, Gran crying and everything…Missed out on the barbecue, though.”

“What are you, young woman, a mind reader? I was just thinking the same thing. But never mind the barbecue, Gran and Pops had to go to Aunt Abby. She was seriously ill.”

Their eyes met, and Leigh smiled. “Got to agree, honey. They been here, Mom and Dad could’ve made things a whole lot worse!”

“You gonna tell them about Allan and Nelson and everything?”

“Uh-huh. But not for a while, honey. Just let’s see how things go.”

THIRTY-SEVEN

It was dark on Del Mar tonight. Really dark.

A gentle wind disturbed the trees.

Scudding clouds hid the moon and stars from view.

Apart from the rustling leaves, it was quiet, too.

Deathly quiet.

Only Deana’s breath sounded harsh and loud as she hurried toward Warren’s house.

She hadn’t called him, as she’d told Mom she would. Instead, she’d decided to slip out again. Meet up with Warren as he walked Sabre.

I’m the midnight runner again.

A thrill of excitement brought goose bumps to her skin. The hair on the back of her neck rose and prickled.

It was scary out here on the street.

In the dead of night.

It may be scary, but the thrill of running alone through the night was worth every second.

Anyway, with Nelson gone, there wasn’t too much to be scared of.

Except Mommy Dearest and her dog.

Maybe a rapist or two.

And the black car.

Don’t forget the black car…

But she was a fast runner.

She could hide in shadows, dart down alleyways, or tackle anyone who looked like they were going to attack her.

Mom still didn’t know about her midnight runs.

Warren did, though.

And Mace.

Fuck Mace.

Somehow, though, she didn’t think he’d inform on her.

He’d keep it all to himself.

It was their little secret.

She shuddered.

She hated keeping things from Mom.

And she loathed the idea of being in league with Mace. The mere thought of it made her flesh crawl.

Anyway, she had too many midnight runs under her belt to start explaining things to Mom now.

Besides, I get a real kick out of it…

Could be I’m addicted to midnight running.

Can a person become addicted to running at night?

I guess so…

Nearly there now. I can see the two redwoods, their branches reaching out onto the street.

Where’s Warren?

Not here yet.

Deana felt a twinge of disappointment. It had been so romantic, thinking they’d meet up again this way.

And he’d be really surprised, and pleased, that she’d shown up again.

Tonight, when she saw him, she intended to invite him to dinner. She felt a squirm of excitement at the prospect of him coming to her home. Again.

This time, she wanted to show off a little.

’Cause Mom really knows how to throw a dinner party.

She’d look elegant, chatting to Warren. Charming him, but not too much, with her intelligent conversation.

She knows about books, too…

Deana ran on, her mind turning to her wardrobe. Mentally going through all of her clothes, deciding what she’d wear the night of the party.

A really big decision.

Maybe her new black dress with the low square neck? She knew it showed off her breasts and her small waist to perfection.

Well, maybe not that yet. Don’t want to scare him off.

Black’s way too formal, anyway. Because we’ll go somewhere after the meal.

Don’t bank on it, Deana .

Mom’d be suspicious. A new boyfriend and bunking off together already.

Like I did with Allan. The night Gran and Pops came to dinner…

Allan.

Deana West, you are a shit.

Allan dead only ten, eleven days and you’re out on some midnight tryst? Meeting up with a guy you’ve seen only three times before…And don’t forget. He already came to the house the other day…

Mom doesn’t know about that. She’d be real upset to know I’ve had Warren over and not told her about it. Not that anything happened . Didn’t get to discuss Mace, like I’d planned. We just talked about books and everything. Warren told me about his store, and promised to get me a copy of Get Shorty by Elmore Leonard.

And now you’re drooling on about going out with him after the wonderful dinner Mom is gonna put on—specially for the benefit of her darling daughter.

The darling daughter who lies through her teeth.

What a bitch I am…Soon as I introduce Warren to Mom, there’ll be no more lies. Promise.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Christ, it’s even darker up here.

Deana sped up.

The wind had gotten worse. It shook the trees, whipping the leaves around in a frenzy.

Deana shivered but kept up her pace.

It was a night when almost anything could happen.

She ran on, her mind full of Warren. Picturing his face when she invited him to dinner. Hoping he’d say yes—after all, he did say he’d like a date.

Dinner or the movies, he’d said.

Remember?

How could I forget!

What a hoot, she’d thought at the time.

But, admit it, Deana. You were secretly thrilled at the idea of going out with Warren.

Sure. He is kinda sexy, and a date could be a lotta fun. Then Mom suggested dinner…

So here she was, running up Del Mar.

Risking God knows what…

Her heart skipped a beat. She began thinking of the funeral car and how spooky it had looked, crawling along outside Warren’s house, its windows all black and shiny…

She gave a grim smile.

Probably just some jerk, cruising around…

She ran on.

Then, mixed in with the keening wind, she caught a faint whimper. Like a small animal was lost or something.

A hand clawed at her ankle.

Her mouth went dry.

She gasped.

Her knees sagged and she fell—onto a lumpy kind of hump.

The hand slid away.

“Who…What the hell…!”

Shit. She’d landed on a sack of household garbage.

“Goddamn stupid thing to do put your garbage out on the sidewalk,” she muttered.

“Git offa me…”

Deana started at the weak, whiny voice.

She scrambled to her feet.

“My God!… Oh, it’s you!”

Mommy Dearest.

Lying in a heap on the sidewalk.

Clutching Harry, wrapped in a blanket.

The blanket fell open and Harry rolled out, his legs in the air. His eyes jerked around. His mouth hung open, his small red tongue panting against needle-fine teeth.

Harry was in a bad way.

“Help us, please!” Mommy Dearest pleaded. “Had one a’ my derned attacks agin.”

The hag shook her head, her wispy hair floating in the wind. She looked a little confused.

“Should never’a come out t’night,” she muttered.

“Here, let me help,” Deana told her. “Lean on my arm, I’ll take you home. Where d’you live?”

“Back there a ways, dear,” the hag gestured behind her, somewhere up the steep hill.

“Well, hold on to me.” Deana helped Mommy Dearest to her feet. “How about Harry? He looks sick, too. Want me to hold him, too?”

“Don’t y’let him fall, now, will ya?”

“Course not.”

The hag clung to Deana’s arm. Deana held Harry tight, rolled in his blanket. Leaning into the wind, they made it up the hill a little way. The hag drew to a halt outside a fancy iron double gate.

Deana stared through the railings.