High Energy, Joy, Dara [books to read this summer .txt] 📗

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pillow to see an orange ball of fur lying contentedly across her feet. Hambone!

She dropped her head to the pillow and groaned.

The door opened and Tyber strolled in, all chipper with morning cheer. "Hey, how

are you doing this morning?" He placed some orange juice on the bedside table.

"Get the cat off my legs," she croaked. Hambone opened his eyes, and seeming

slightly insulted, lumbered off to lie next to her.

"Shame on you; he only wanted to see how you were feeling. I brought you some

oatmeal."

"Oatmeal? I never eat oatmeal!"

"Well, you do now." Tyber leveled a no-nonsense look at her, causing her to cave

in immediately.

"Oh, all right." She viewed the bowl sullenly until she happened to lock eyes

with the cat. A silent communication seemed to occur in that moment. They both

smiled at each other. "Just leave it there; I'll try to eat some later."

Tyber placed his hand across her forehead. "You still have a fever."

"I feel worse," she said petulantly.

"Today will be the worst day; you'll feel better tomorrow. Anyway, Blooey's

making you some chicken soup for lunch, and Hambone's here to keep you company.

Do you want to watch TV?"

Her nose arched in the air. "I don't watch daytime television."

"I have satellite. I hear there's a monsterthon on Channel 132 today." He raised

and lowered his eyebrows as if to say, how could you not?

"You have satellite? I never noticed a dish."

"I didn't say which satellite, did I?" Her mouth gaped. "Here's the remote. By

the way, I called your office and told them you wouldn't be in for a few days."

"Tyber! I was going to go in later! You shouldn't have—" She broke off,

coughing.

"Uh-huh. I'm going down to do some work in the lab; if you need anything,

Blooey's in the kitchen. Don't forget that oatmeal."

As soon as he was gone, Zanita looked at the cat. The cat looked at her. And the

oatmeal was history.

"Prepare yourself." Tyber strode purposefully into the room a few hours later to

glare down at her from the foot of the bed.

"What is it—more oatmeal?"

"No. I don't think Hambone is up to anymore just yet. He's still trying to

digest the last batch."

She didn't quite meet his eyes. "How did you know?"

"He's lying in the sun like a snake that just swallowed a gopher. Besides that,

he had oatmeal all over his whiskers. Blooey had to chase him all over the house

with a wet rag to clean it off him."

"So that's what all that racket was. Then if it's not oatmeal, what is it?"

"Grandfather Hank just called and he's hopping mad. He wants to know who I am

and what the hell I'm doing with you." He leveled a searing look at her.

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

"You didn't tell him you were moving in here, did you?"

She winced. "No."

He leaned over the bed, trapping her between his arms, which came down on

either-side of her. His voice was deceptively calm. "What did you think would

happen when he could not reach you at home?"

She gulped. "That wouldn't have happened."

He pinned her to the pillow with a look. "I'm waiting."

"Call forwarding," she said in a small voice.

He just stared at her, a little muscle ticking in his jaw.

"You—you don't understand. You just don't tell Hank stuff like this. He's—he's

like from another century. And since this is only a temporary situation, why

upset the old guy?"

"The old guy is on his way here even as we speak."

Her eyes widened. She clutched his hand off the mattress. "Tyber, don't let him

take me to my grandmother! She's a Valkyrie with sick people."

"You're not going anywhere. I'll deal with Hank, but I think it was very

irresponsible of you to worry him like this."

"Irresponsible! He wouldn't have known anything about it if you hadn't taken it

upon yourself to call my office. And did you have to tell them who you were?"

He threw her a seething look and exited the room.

She never knew what Tyber said to her grandfather, but by the time Hank entered

her room, he was all smiles and solicitousness. He inquired after her health,

petted the cat, admired the house, spoke highly of Tyber, and told her to call

her grandmother when she felt up to it. Then he insisted that she take the week

off.

She watched her grandfather leave with an odd, sinking feeling in her chest.

Hank, who had gone through wars, seen presidents murdered, and was once almost

shot by a gangster, had unwittingly been Tybercised.

Zanita sighed philosophically. She would have to watch the captain like a hawk

from now on. He was definitely starting to act like a boyfriend.

Tyber stood at the foot of his once-pristine shell bed watching Zanita sleep

while propped up against four pillows.

The bed was littered with empty candy wrappers, various magazines, paperback

books, tissues, cracker crumbs, a writing tablet, and Hambone. A half-eaten Oreo

cookie floated in the aquarium next to the bed. His extremely rare, extremely

expensive tropical fish were in the process of committing suicide by nibbling on

it.

Theme music from a 1950s science fiction movie blared from the television set,

signifying the approach of the beast from the planet Gilgamesh.

This is one definition of Chaos, he thought, smiling fondly down at her.

He got a net to retrieve the cookie before the fish did serious damage to

themselves. Only Zanita would wonder if fish might like to share a chocolate

cookie with her.

"Hmm? Oh, Tyber, it you…" She sleepily opened her eyes.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, much better." She took his hand, bringing it to her cheek. "Tyber, you've

been so sweet."

"I have, haven't I?" He kissed her forehead before sitting on the bed next to

her to watch the monster being electrocuted by the high tension wires. He

chuckled. "Gets 'em every time."

"Hey, look at this—I almost finished The New York Times crossword puzzle. If I

only knew the name of a three dimensional rectangular cube in twenty-seven

letters…" She looked at him expectantly.

"A rectangular parallelepipedon," he supplied dryly.

"That's right! It fits!" Zanita had a great idea. "You know, you should go on

Jeopardy."

"You're still feverish, aren't you?"

"No, I'm serious. We could make a bundle."

"We?" He arched a brow at her.

She sat up on her knees, putting her arms around