Unwritten Books 2 - Fathom Five (21 page)

From behind him, they heard Trish’s voice. “Are those trick-or-treaters at our door?”

He popped back inside, leaving Peter and Rosemary to stand in nervous silence.

“Trish is handling the trick-or-treaters,” said Rosemary, grinning. “She’s really excited. It’s usually my job.”

Peter shifted on his feet. “So, what did you tell your folks … about us?”

“Not much,” she replied. “I said I’d cornered you at the beach, and that we talked, and that as we talked, a big wave rolled in and soaked us both. So long as Benson and Veronica keep quiet about our run up the cliff, there’s nothing else they need to know.”

“Wouldn’t they understand?”

“They’d understand, but I don’t think they’d like it if they thought I was making a habit of visiting crazy worlds. You?”

“My uncle doesn’t know a thing.”

“You two don’t talk much, do you?”

“I’ll try,” said Peter. “I promise. He’s ....” He sucked his lip. “He’s the one family member I’ve got left.”

Rosemary clasped his hands. “I know it’s hard.” Then she faltered. “Actually, I don’t. I’ve never … but … you know what I mean?”

“Yeah.” He smiled at her. “Ariel really knew how to get at me. She may have come for me looking like my old babysitter, but it’s when she gave me a sister that I most wanted to stay. It was a dirty trick. But I know how
she
feels. She was like me in a way. I wish we hadn’t left her behind.”

“You’re
not
like her, you know,” said Rosemary. “She didn’t have anything. You do. Not just your uncle. You’ve got friends.”

He looked away. “I’m realizing that now.”

“And … if you want parents, you can borrow mine.”

He looked at her. “Really?”

Rosemary blushed in the twilight and couldn’t meet his eyes.

His mouth dried up and his heart began to thump.

“Rosemary, I ....” She looked at him expectantly.

A scream cut through the air.

A witch with glowing eyes popped out of the garden and bobbed menacingly on a string.

Rosemary and Peter looked at it, then at each other, and burst out laughing.

Mr. Watson stepped out of the garage. “Well, what did you think?” His face fell at the sight of Peter and Rosemary, bent double with laughter. “Not the effect I was going for.”

***

Rosemary’s father drove them through Clarksbury’s downtown. Chattering students in costume walked along the sidewalks. Then the car turned right instead of left.

“Wait a minute,” said Peter. “Isn’t the dance at the school?”

Rosemary raised an eyebrow. “Who didn’t read the posters?”

“I didn’t think I was going to the dance!”

“You’ll start reading those posters now, won’t you, Peter?” Mr. Watson cut in.

He chuckled as the two blushed.

They pulled up to the marina. A stony beach stretched away past the breakwater. A miniature lighthouse flashed red at the edge of a pier. The arms of the Niagara Escarpment reached into Georgian Bay, glowing red in the setting sun. A crowd mingled on a wooden patio and the beach. The crackle of the bonfire and the beat of the music echoed across the rolling water.

Peter stared.

Rosemary nudged him. “Why do you think I’m wearing sneakers in this dress?”

He laughed. “You couldn’t be more of a siren than you are now.”

She slugged him in the shoulder, playfully.

“Rosemary!” Veronica called, dressed as a witch in running shoes. She stopped short at Rosemary’s costume. “Wow!”

“Hey, Rosemary!” Joe crunched across the stones to them. “You brought him over! Cool!”

“He didn’t kick or scream at all,” said Rosemary. “I was almost disappointed.”

Peter nodded to his captain. “Thanks for having me, Joe.”

“You’re always welcome.” He waved them towards the patio. “The dance is just starting.”

They stepped onto the deck and planted themselves by the railing.

Veronica stepped forward and grabbed Benson by the elbow. “Hey, Benson.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“Come on!” She pulled him to the dance floor. He followed, looking bewildered. Grinning, Joe sauntered out after them and danced with everyone.

Rosemary and Peter stood by the railing, staring like wallflowers.

Peter leaned close to her ear. “So … what do we do now?”

She stared at the shaking bodies, and raised her hands. “Um … I guess we … dance.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay!” He pushed away from the railing.

She yanked him back. “Not now! I can’t dance to that, that’s a fast song!”

He stared at her. “So … what, we just stand here?”

The fast music eased and the Tori Amos song, “One Thousand Oceans,” started playing through the speakers. The dance floor thinned out, but couples stayed behind to clasp each other close and rock in slow circles.

Rosemary gripped Peter’s arm. “Now,” she said. Her knuckles whitened.

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

They found a space amid the couples and faced each other. Each tried to put their arms around the other, but gave up awkwardly. Then Peter grabbed Rosemary’s arms, flung them behind him, and pulled her close. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Mmph,” said Rosemary.

“Sorry.” He loosened his grip.

They shuffled in a small circle to the music. Rosemary bit her lip. Peter’s face clouded with fear, but neither turned away.

“Rosemary ....” He took a deep breath. “I … I think I love you.”

Her mouth quirked. “I think you do, too.”

They laughed at that. The tension eased from their shoulders.

Then Rosemary’s smile faded, and she looked him in the eye. “I love you, too, Peter.”

Their faces drew closer and their lips met. And it was the most right thing in the world.

END