Page 21 of Strangely Normal

Jude lowered Finley’s feet to the ground, and Some Pig ran over to greet her as if in apology.

I pressed my hand to my chest to catch my breath. “He was curled up by the television.”

Cole came around the back of the pool house. “Oh good, you found him.”

“Cole, take Finley back to the house. She needs to get out of the sun,” Jude said.

Cole placed an arm around her shoulder and led Finley back toward the house. Her pig followed.

I collected our towels and shoes. Jude’s shadow loomed over me, and I sped up my movements to get away from him quickly. I had this sinking feeling he was going to lecture me or give me the big I told you so look. Arms full, I spun around and nearly smacked into him. Obviously, my clean get away was not going to happen.

The wet white t-shirt clung to every curve of his muscular chest and arms as he assessed me coolly with his disconcerting gaze. “You did all right out there,” he said quietly. “You kept your head.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but I’d been so ready to defend myself, his compliment caught me off guard. I tucked my hair behind my ears with trembling fingers. The entire incident had left me more shaken that I’d realized. Having Jude stand so close was definitely not helping matters. His gaze lingered on my face and lips and then floated slowly down my body to my feet. I cursed myself for not taking time to cover up with the towel. “I know— my suit is embarrassingly ugly. You don’t have to tell me.”

His long black lashes lifted, and he stared at my face again. “What suit?” He turned and strolled back to the pool house without further comment, and I race-walked back to the house.

I headed upstairs to change into dry clothes.

Cole was just coming out of Finley’s room. “She’s all right now. I’m sure you can go in.”

“I’m just going to change,” I said. The tremble in my hands had subsided, but my nerves were still on edge. The adept way in which both of Finley’s brothers had sprung into action made it obvious that these episodes happened frequently, and I had the sinking feeling that this had been only a minor incident. We’d resolved the problem quickly by producing her source for the panic attack. Jude had gotten to her so fast, I hadn’t even seen him race over from the pool house. I wasn’t completely sure that I would have been able to help her at all. Finley seemed to only respond to Jude at the time. That made the prospect of him leaving somewhat daunting. In fact, once he left and Cole returned to work, it would be completely up to me to take care of Finley. I hated to admit it, but that thought terrified me some.

Chapter 8

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, changed into some shorts, and walked over to Finley’s room. My knuckles tapped the door lightly. “It’s me.”

“Come on in, Eden.”

Finley was sitting on the floor sliding off Some Pig’s Hawaiian print shirt. “I think we’ve both had enough of the pool scene today. He wants to spend the rest of the day in the raw.”

I sat down across from them and glanced around. Every wall was covered with a mosaic of old movie posters, pictures, and paintings. There was a long shelf filled with tennis trophies.

“Did you win all those trophies?”

“Yeah, I was a pretty good tennis player at one time. But my anxiety issues got in the way, and I lost my edge in competition.” There was sadness in her chuckle. “Now I can’t even walk out to the tennis courts my dad had built for me. It’s like there’s an invisible perimeter around this house, around my world, and I can’t cross it because I will freak out. Myissuescontrol every aspect of my life.” She lifted her round blue eyes and looked at me. “I hope you don’t leave, Eden. I really like having you here.”

“I’m not planning to leave, if that’s all right with you.”

She reached over and hugged me. “It’s definitely all right with me.” I got up and walked over to the paintings. One was a portrait of Finley sitting next to one of the dogs. Another was a portrait of her father from his younger days in the band. I leaned closer but could not make out the signature. “These are amazing. Who painted them?”

“Jude. He’s pretty good.”

“Your brother, Jude?”

“I know. He’s such an ass, it’s hard to believe.”

I smiled to myself. “He’s actually really good. That would explain the chemical smell. Does he work with paint thinner a lot?”

Finley walked over to a closet and opened the door. “Yeah. Sometimes it smells like he bathes in the stuff.” She walked inside the closet, which was bigger than my parent’s bedroom, and reappeared with a large box. She dropped it on her bed, and I plopped down next to it. “I promised to show you my collection of voodoo dolls. I made them myself, and I have to say they’re pretty cool.” She opened the box, reached inside, and plucked out a tiny hand-sewn doll with yarn hair and small blue t-shirt with the wordsbad pet ownerembroidered in black thread. She held it up and reached inside the box. This time she pulled out what appeared to be a fake piece of dog poop, like a prank you’d get from the joke shop.

“I’m not following,” I admitted.

“A couple years ago, Dr. Houston, one of the many silly shrinks my dad hired to listen to my problems, advised me to find an outlet for my frustrations.” She crinkled her nose. “The man always smelled like peppermint, and he was constantly smoothing down the ends of his moustache. Anyhow, he told me to sketch things that angered me, so I could deal with all my problems. I wasn’t really into drawing but I loved to sew. I got out my sewing machine and started making voodoo dolls. But instead of the dolls representing one person, they represented certain human traits that I really despised. Like this one.” She held up the doll again. “This doll represents all those awful people who don’t take decent care of their pets, people who leave their dogs out in the rain, or people who forget to feed their hamsters. It represents all the people who are selfish enough to have a pet but not decent enough to care for them.” She lifted the piece of plastic poop. “Instead of pins in the doll, I decided to be more creative with my hexes. All bad pet owners are cursed so that unless they change their ways, everything they eat smells like dog poop.”

“Okay, that is clever but also very twisted.”

She tossed the doll back into the box. “They deserve it. And strangely enough it made me feel better after I’d created the doll. Of course, when I showed it to Dr. Houston, he told my dad that he wasn’t sure how to proceed with my treatment.” She laughed. “I guess he thought I was too nuts to be saved.”

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