made her feel even worse. She pictured her son, trying to understand why the kids his age made fun of him, quietly facing the adjustments that had come after a series of tests, looking to her—to her!—to figure out what happened next.
Abby lifted her chin and stepped through the doorway into the world of a genius. Even with every bit of her own intellect on alert, she didn’t have a clue about what to do next.
Jeremy analyzed his decision to allow her even this brief opening into his life. Contemplating it from every facet, he concluded he was simply out of his mind.
Actually that wasn’t far from the truth. Whenever he looked at the tenacious Mrs. Melrose, he seemed to lose his renowned ability to reason.
He glanced over his shoulder to see if she was still following or if she’d run screaming from the house. No such luck. She was peering with curiosity into each of the rooms they passed. What did she expect to see? he wondered. Caged animals prepared for scientific experiments? Food in pouches, served on petri dishes?
“Do you live here all alone?” she asked.
“Yes. There’s no one around for miles.” He leered menacingly but she gave no indication that it had the desired effect.
“It’s a big house for one person. Did you design it purposely to scare people away?” she asked bluntly.
Jeremy was caught so unprepared by her candor that he answered with equal honesty. “That’s just a side benefit. The house was built by an old Hollywood horror film star. It suited my purpose.”
“You mean for your school, Still Waters?”
“The school is not up for discussion.” His angry voice echoed through the empty rooms.
Abby’s eyes widened and he saw a glimmer of fear that she attempted to hide. Still, she continued to follow him. Jeremy didn’t know if it was stubbornness or foolishness that made her do so. Although he couldn’t be sure of her reasons, at least he had managed to figure out his own. He concluded that allowing her into his home, his sanctuary, was a form of self-torture. Having her around made him recall how different he still was.
He could see every emotion that passed through her mind and knew that she saw him as some kind of freak. Her biggest fear was that her son would end up like him, alone and bitter, unable to relate to normal people. Like the rest of the outside world, she looked at him and wondered what kind of weird and twisted thoughts went on in his head.
He didn’t think she’d want to know.
Because despite what she might think, he was a man, capable of reacting to her extraordinary beauty. He’d noticed the shapely figure beneath the simple peach sundress and the way the color of the material made her skin appear even more flawless. He’d seen the beseeching look in those amazing eyes and imagined her looking at him like that for other, much more personal reasons. Yet, he’d also noticed that she hadn’t capitalized on her looks as he might have expected. Though she wanted something from him, she hadn’t done anything to play on her appearance for the purposes of getting what she wanted.
His inquisitive mind still had a few other questions. Such as why she was persisting in this hopeless undertaking? Comprehending the motives of his students’ parents had always been difficult for him. They wanted him to make their kids normal, or worse, to make them even more extraordinary. Abby seemed to want what was best for her son. He was almost certain of that. But if she had rightly concluded that Jeremy was a deviant specimen, unable to live among those society had deemed normal, why would she want to subject her son to his obvious flaws?
“Where’s the boy?” Jeremy asked without turning around. There was no use practicing his social graces. She wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter.
“Robbie went to camp today. Since we’ll be sticking around, I thought I’d enroll him in the summer program down by the lake.”
He stopped suddenly, almost causing her to plow into him. “That’s not a program for gifted children.”
“I know, but they have swimming and boating. It will be good for him to spend some time outdoors.”
He didn’t comment, preferring to process the information in silence.
Naturally she didn’t allow the omission. “Why? Is there something wrong with the camp? It had a good rating in the travel book of this area.”
He was sure it did. They catered to the wealthy who vacationed in the area and their clients were afforded the best in everything. Several years ago, as part of an enrichment program they’d offered, Jeremy and some of his students had been asked to perform complex mathematic calculations for the group. Perform. It was a good enough word for what they’d been asked to do.
“I spoke to the owner myself. A man named Drew Danforth. He seems very nice. He gave me a huge discount because they happened to have an opening at the last minute.”
When not running his camp in the summer, Danforth, the town’s golden boy, was a three-sport coach at the local high school and the area’s most eligible bachelor. And he’d taken one look at Abby Melrose and discovered a last-minute opening at one of the most exclusive day camps in the area? What a coincidence!
Abby was beginning to look panicked at the thought of leaving her son someplace that wasn’t safe.
“There’s nothing wrong with the camp,” Jeremy acknowledged and she sighed with relief. He didn’t bother to explain that there would be a much greater danger from himself if he were to help her. He wasn’t going to get involved. No matter how persuasive she tried to be.
They reached the kitchen, where the project he’d been working on before he was interrupted covered the wide expanse of counter. He’d opened the windows, but an odd, pungent odor still hung in the air. At least there was ample room; the kitchen had been designed to allow lavish parties. Jeremy could recall when the school had been open and everyone’s responsibilities had included pitching in to prepare the meals. Occasionally the behavior of some of the smartest young people in the world could have been mistaken for frat house antics.
Ruthlessly he banished the image from his mind.
“Sit over there,” he commanded, pointing to an empty chair halfway across the room. “This substance is caustic if it touches the skin or is inhaled.”
Her eyes widened with alarm and curiosity as she did as he asked. After protecting his own eyes with the oversize goggles and replacing the rubber gloves, he picked up a thermometer hooked on the side of an enamel pot on the stove and checked the temperature of the steaming liquid inside.
Although he didn’t look at her, he knew she watched his every move.
As he took a long, plastic spoon and began to stir the mixture, it occurred to him that he should have used a metal spoon so that he could watch her eyes when it disintegrated. Next, he approached a second container on the counter, this one an ordinary pitcher that might have been used to serve lemonade. The poisonous contents of the scalding liquid were also being monitored. In order for a successful mix of the solutions, the timing had to be exact.
“Where’s Robbie’s father?” Even as he asked the question, Jeremy realized he’d asked it for himself. She hadn’t mentioned a husband in her letters and he didn’t think the omission was accidental, but whether or not Abby had a man in the picture was irrelevant.
Again
