Free Carrier of the Mark by Leigh Fallon Page B

going to make a move on Adam.
    I took some frozen chicken pies from the freezer, threw them in the oven, and set the timer. Then I ran up to my room, surrendered myself to the comfort of my bed, and dozed off.
    The oven’s beeping woke me up. Still disoriented, I jumped up and ran down to rescue dinner. I was halfway down the stairs when a memory came flooding back. Full and detailed. It smacked me in the face with such force that I slumped down onto the step.
    The monk with the long beard had been standing behind my dad in my room in the hospital, after my mom died. As I saw the scene once more, I knew it wasn’t a dream. It happened.
    Who … no … what the hell was he? And why was he here?
    My eyes began to sting and I coughed. The high-pitched beeping of the smoke alarm eventually snapped me out of my daze. Still a bit wobbly on my feet, I went into the kitchen, opened the windows, and dumped the contents of the oven into the sink. I ran the water over the charred remains. The burned pies hissed and then fell silent.
    “Megan? Is everything all right in here?” Dad said, walking cautiously into the kitchen.
    “Just a disastrous attempt at dinner, Dad. Sorry, but it looks like takeout again tonight.”
    “I have a better idea! Let’s go down to the Lobster Pot.” He looked delighted with himself.
    “Sure, why not,” I replied, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. Now I’d have to watch Dad mooning over Petra for the evening. I was happy for him, but I needed to think, not make small talk over dinner with Dad’s girlfriend. “Dad, this is going to sound a bit weird, but … do you know any monks?”
    “Monks … like the Friar Tuck variety?”
    “Sort of. I just thought I remembered one from the day in the hospital, you know, when I woke up after Mom…”
    “What has you thinking about that, Meg? Is everything all right?”
    “Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. It’s just that I saw a monk the other day and it sparked a memory, and I was just wondering.”
    “I’d remember a monk in your room, Meg. I’m sure it was just you and me.” He furrowed his brow. “Look, we can stay in and talk if you want to.”
    “No, no, I’m fine. I must have gotten it wrong,” I said, pasting on a cheery smile and hooking my arm through his. “Dinner at the Lobster Pot sounds great.”

Eight
HALLOWEEN
    M y dad was all dressed up and ready to go to the big Halloween bash in the yacht club. It had a royalty theme, and my dad was going as King Henry VIII. He looked hilarious in his pantaloons and smock outfit, but Petra, dressed as Anne Boleyn, seemed to think he looked dashing.
    We had been seeing more of Petra this week. My dad never mentioned it to make it official, but it was fairly obvious what was going on. It was weird, my dad dating. It had just been me and him since my mom died. Even so, I was feeling pretty okay about the situation. Maybe it was easier to deal with because he wasn’t making it into a big issue.
    My clothes were picked out and laid over my desk chair. Nothing fancy, but flattering all the same. Our party was going to be in a mucky field, which hardly called for a skirt and heels. I picked out my favorite jeans and my red Converse and the new top that I’d bought in the city. It was a purple V-necked sweater that enhanced my skin tone and made my hair seem rich and glowy. It was clingy, and the vee was a little more plunging than what I’d usually wear, but Caitlin and Jennifer had both told me that I had to use every weapon in my arsenal.
    I’d decided to leave my hair down, wavy and natural. I dusted a little bronzer over my pale cheeks and nose, just to highlight my face, and carefully applied lots of black mascara to my eyelashes, curling them upward. I took one last look at the mirror. Well , I thought, that’s as good as it gets . I smacked my lips at my reflection, then jumped back from the mirror and whirled around.
    I could have sworn I’d seen the monk’s face behind mine. I