Page 20 of The Sandbar saga

Chapter 8

The rain beat downon Dr. Conner's car, blurring the outside world. Katie, allowed to take off her seatbelt because they were parked, scooted to the edge of the seat, and wrote her name in the condensation on the inside of the windshield.

Her mother would've yelled at her for messing up the car window. Not that her mom was here or even phoned her at the school like the other parents did with their daughters who attended St. Mary's.

Dr. Conner rolled down his side window an inch and turned up the defrost. She rested her chin on the dash, watching the letters disappear as they dried.

They couldn't go on a walk because of the weather, and she refused to take him into the school office to have their meeting. She wanted to keep him to herself. He was the best thing from home, and she wouldn't want to share him with the other girls at St. Mary's.

"It's supposed to rain all week. I'll have to find somewhere we can go on Friday to talk." Dr. Conner sopped up the splashes making their way into the car on his door and then put his wet handkerchief on the floor. "Unless you'd like to stand out in the rain. For how wet we're getting, we might as well go out and enjoy it."

She rolled her eyes. Sometimes Dr. Conner was funny, but most of the time, he was serious.

"You're not going to drive over the Megler Bridge when you go home, are you?" She turned her head away and watched the raindrops roll down the glass.

"I promised you I wouldn't."

"That doesn't mean anything," she mumbled.

"It does to me. I keep my word."

"Adults don't."

"Do you want to explain what that means?" He touched her shoulder. "Who has lied to you?"

"Everyone." She threw herself back in the seat and sighed. "All adults lie."

"Your mom?"

She turned and gawked at him. "You're kidding, right? She doesn't talk to me enough to lie."

Her mother hadn't called, visited, or sent a letter since she'd moved into St. Mary's. She was glad because she was never going to forgive her for sending her away.

"What about your father? When he was alive, did he ever lie to you?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Does it hurt when I mention your dad?"

"He's dead." She gritted her teeth. "You're mean."

"You were young when you lost him."

"I didn't lose him. He went out on the sandbar, and the tide came in, and he drowned." She blinked hard. "I know where he is."

"Where?"

"Where dead people go."

"Where's that?"

Sometimes, Dr. Conner acted like he was dumb. He was old and had gone to college. She hated it when he pretended like he couldn't answer the questions he asked.

"Do you miss him?" asked Dr. Conner.

She pushed the buttons to make the window move, but he had the child lock on. If she could, she'd get out of the car and run back to the school. She looked at the area outside the window. None of the buildings seemed familiar. He must've driven farther away from the school than she'd realized.

"Katie? Do you miss your dad?" he repeated.