Hope, Levy, Marc [good summer reads TXT] 📗

take shape, looking out for where the problem could be. Everything seemed to be in working order, and so he continued on with the experiment.

The hours passed, and Josh was growing tired.

“That’s enough for tonight,” he said, slipping off the headset. “I’m going to get Hope. Can you drop us off at home?”

Luke saved his recordings and switched off his computer monitor.

“Meet me in the parking lot. Don’t make me wait.”

“I’ll do my best,” Josh said, moving toward the door.

“Josh, I have a small favor to ask you. Make sure Hope comes with you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Josh shrugged. “But why?”

“I ran a few tests on her earlier while we waited for you. I’d like to compare them to the scanner results.”

“You could have told me.”

“I just did. I have a wonderful recording of the first day you met.”

“Seriously? Can I see?”

“Some other time. I turned the computer off, and now I want to go home. But just to put your mind at rest, the electric activity shows some serious emotional intensity. The lines were all over the place. Come on. Let’s get going.”

“Why don’t we go back to Salem for New Year’s Eve?” Hope asked, slipping under the sheets.

“I’d love to, but I can’t imagine asking Luke to lend us his car as we ditch him for the night.”

“You’re right, Joshy. It would be kind of insensitive.”

“When did you start calling me Joshy?”

“The day I knew I was yours, I needed to find some way of making you mine.”

Hope turned to him, pushing back the covers to reveal her naked body.

“But are you? Are you really mine?” She swung up to straddle him.

She didn’t wait for his reply.

Once Josh had moved out, Luke had turned his friend’s old room into a small office. Initially, he had considered using it as a bedroom instead, but Hope had slept there, and it was sometimes as if he could feel her presence. That didn’t bother him when it came to work, but sleeping was a different matter.

He fumbled in the inside pocket of his coat for the documents he had quietly lifted from the Center and sat at the table to examine them more closely. The lines were like nothing else he’d seen, and the more closely he looked, the more he doubted that malfunctioning electrodes were the root cause of the problem. The anomalies unsettled him, and he needed to find out whether his suspicions were right.

Hope rose with the sun, the morning light flooding into the loft through the wide bay window, turning the wooden floorboards to gold. Josh was fast asleep, and she grinned as she pinched his cheek. He groaned, burying his head under his pillow, which she lifted up to whisper in his ear.

“Make me pancakes.”

“Hope, come on . . .”

“With maple syrup.”

“No.”

“But it’s our anniversary!”

Josh turned over, and looked at her doubtfully.

“What anniversary?”

“The anniversary of our very first night.”

“For real?”

“For real. You know, I’m really starting to love your slow streak.”

“Nice try, but our first night was the tenth of November.”

“So now that you’re up, are you going to make me pancakes?”

“You’re impossible,” Josh sighed, clambering out of bed.

He pulled on his jeans and padded over to the kitchen counter.

“When are you going to introduce me to your dad?” Hope asked, joining him in the kitchen.

“The inner workings of the female mind.” Josh shook his head. “A true scientific mystery.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How did you get from pancakes to my dad?”

“My dad always made pancakes. The way you turn on the stove reminds me of him. You both draw your hand back like that, as if the stove were about to explode.”

“You’re right; that makes total sense.”

“So?” she pressed. “When are we going to visit him?”

“He and I haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re mad at each other, Hope. And you know, I want to talk about him about as much as I want to make these pancakes.”

“Why are you guys mad?”

“It’s a very long, very old story.”

“I want you to make up.”

“No way.” Josh shook his head. “Why do you even care?”

“If we ever have kids one day, I want them to love their granddad.”

Josh whipped around and stared at her.

“Don’t look like that,” Hope said. “You look like I just told you the world is about to end. I said ‘if we ever’; I wasn’t thinking ‘now.’”

“Is it cool with you if we wait until we’ve had our coffee before discussing the end of the world as we know it and my dad?” he asked, filling up the coffeepot.

“As soon as you promise I can meet him. You hear me, Josh?”

“Loud and clear.”

“That’s funny. That doesn’t sound like you.”

“It’s something he would have said. You’ve got him talking. Every time he lectured me, he’d end with ‘And I hope you’re hearing me loud and clear!’”

Hope stood on her tiptoes and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard.

“I had a nightmare last night.”

“You’ve been having a lot of them since we moved here. Maybe the loft isn’t working for you. Or maybe the streetlights are too bright. I’ll try and find something to put over the windows.”

“Don’t you want to know what my nightmare was about?”

“I think I know. You talk in your sleep, Hope.”

“What did I say?”

“That I’m the most patient man in the world.” He slipped two pancakes onto a plate and offered it to Hope.

“I dreamed we were walking along the beach, when I suddenly turned and went toward the waves. You let me go. I was drowning, and I wasn’t even fighting back. I wasn’t scared to die, but under the water, I was terrified at the idea of losing you.”

Josh pulled her toward him.

“You’re a better swimmer than anyone I know. I run faster than you too. So your nightmare doesn’t make sense. I would have caught you before you lost your footing.”

“I’ve been feeling like shit lately.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t feel like myself.”

“We’re working too hard.