Reckless Road (Torpedo Ink 5)

The human brain was very close to those same layers of threads of mycelium. She often wondered if she acted as that same wide network, a connection that was felt by her through the earth, her bare feet, or her hands in the air when she moved them in the graceful patterns taught to her by her grandmother and Amara, her mother. Their gift was a closely guarded secret, and no one outside their family was aware they could in any way help others through their dance or the sound of their voices.

Zyah found it strange that although she loved music, and had a way to pitch her voice to speak notes another person might need, she couldn’t sing. She could dance with the best, and she found joy in it, but she didn’t feel comfortable singing. Her gift was more about tuning to one person directly. She knew why her grandmother was always so amazing with her—she knew exactly what Zyah needed, as Zyah would know with her children and husband.

“My greatest fear, Mama Anat, is that I won’t have my own family. I’ve always wanted a husband and children. You told me about my parents, how much they loved each other. I remember them and how they were always laughing together. You speak of your husband, and your voice and face go soft with love. I want that too, and I’m so afraid I’ll never have it.”

“This man may have been the right one but not at the right time. Another will come, Zyah, you just have to close yourself to this one and let your heart be open to another. It won’t be easy.”

“It isn’t like I had him for weeks or months or even years. It was only a night. Not even twenty-four hours, yet it feels as if I had a long relationship with him and am grieving over the loss. I never want to hurt like that again,” Zyah admitted. “I can’t believe how far I let him in.”

“It’s the gift,” her grandmother said. “I knew when you told me about the man you were dating some time ago that he wasn’t right for you, because you weren’t reacting with intense passion. You had to find that out for yourself. I couldn’t tell you. This man, this Player from Torpedo Ink. He is dangerous to you now, Zyah. You’ll be very susceptible to him. You have to stay away from him, because if you don’t, you will continue to have great heartache. You know you won’t be able to control what your heart or body desires.”

Zyah knew that was true. She didn’t want to think about him, much less see him. She shouldn’t take the job at the grocery store because Torpedo Ink owned it, but there just weren’t that many jobs close to Sea Haven, especially not with the salary they were offering. Caspar was only a couple of miles away, and she needed to be close to her grandmother. She wasn’t healing as fast as Zyah thought she should be.

“How did physical therapy go?”

Anat winced. “Sometimes I don’t think it’s helping me, Zyah.”

Zyah frowned. Her grandmother never complained. Never. She was always stoic. No matter the situation, she just fought her way through. It wasn’t that she was complaining exactly, but she didn’t sound like her normal cheerful, positive self.

“Why?”

Anat shook her head and smiled, but Zyah saw that for the first time, that sweet smile didn’t reach her grandmother’s eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just taking longer than I thought it would to recover. I need to have more patience.” Anat’s hand dropped to her leg and she rubbed along her thigh as if it ached.

Zyah considered how many times her grandmother might have done that while she was whining to her about Player. Anat had comforted her over and over, yet now that Zyah thought it over, she had seen her grandmother rub her leg through the quilt on more than one occasion.

“We both liked the physical therapist. Terrie Frankle? She’s from someplace in Washington, isn’t she? A traveling therapist?” Zyah asked cautiously. “Do you still like her?”

“Very much. She’s quite sweet. She loves to travel, and when the clinic was looking for someone, she jumped at the chance to come here. She had heard of Sea Haven already because she met Francine, Lizz’s granddaughter, when she was traveling on a train to San Francisco to a job there a while back. She’s been all over.” Anat sounded very enthusiastic. “I like to listen to her stories of her travels while she works on me. It helps, so I concentrate on listening instead of feeling the pain.”

Zyah didn’t like the sound of that. “Should you be feeling pain? Do you tell Terrie that you’re feeling pain?”

“I have,” Anat admitted reluctantly. “She said a little pain is necessary, but it shouldn’t be too much. I never know how much is too much.” There was a little quiver in Anat’s voice.