Her mother came running down the stairs, waving her hands frantically. "Wait! Wait! I've got something I need you to run by the Hansons' for me."
Mrs. Tukano strode into the kitchen. Skye waited impatiently for her to return. When she did, she saw that it was a portfolio.
"Walker needs to see these. I had Nick run them through the computer, and he says Walker is about 300 dollars in the hole with this plan. I know, it's not a lot but...every little bit counts. He switched some things around, and now it's got a profit of nearly double that. Could you deliver this for me?" the tall, thin woman asked. She was as American as apple-pie her father, Chao Tukano had once told her. Chao was a short man with graying black hair and narrow, pale blue eyes. His mother had been Dutch, but had died when he was in high school. Deborah Tukano, who was actually Deborah Wilson before she was married, was tall and thin with dark brown hair and luminescent green eyes. Chao and Debbie had been an unlikely couple, as they had gone to the same high school. Debbie was nearly 7 inches his senior in height, and came from a wealthy family; whereas Chao's had been poor. But when Chao's mother had died, Debbie felt a spark of empathy, because she had lost her mother at a young age as well. In the end, they had both fallen in love.
Skye snapped out of her dreamlike thoughts, and nodded with a bright smile. "No prob."
She took the package, and hurried out into the chilly November air. She didn't have time to think of the cold though, because she soon slipped into her car, and turned up the heater as high as it would run.
It took her about 12 minutes to get to the Hanson's new house. She had been glad she had gotten her car as soon as she turned 16, because it had meant she didn't have to pedal for nearly 40 minutes to see Taylor.
She pulled into the dismal gray driveway with a bit of reverie. She grabbed the portfolio, and hurried up the sidewalk towards the golden light pouring from the wide front window.
As soon as the doorbell had rung it seemed, the door swung open. Taylor stood there, smiling. "Hey, Skye." His eyes wondered down to her skirt. "Still in your chick clothes?!" He seemed shock.
Impudently, Skye shook out her hair. "It's called a skirt, Taylor. Look it up in the dictionary." Taylor stood back, taken aback. Then, he burst out laughing.
"That time of month again, huh?" he asked. Skye just glared, and walked into the Hanson's living room. Walker sat in the floor, surrounded by a huddle of 3 young, blond children. He smiled as soon as he saw her. And then, seeing her dress, let out a low whistle.
"Well, hello, Ms. Tukano. What's the occassion?" he asked, standing to accept the portfolio she held out to him.
"I've got a meeting for the Dance Committe in about...4 minutes. I'm going to be late," she groaned, looking at her watch. Taylor's eyes widened.
"You? In the dance committee?" he sputtered.
Skye whirled. "What's it to you?"
"N...nothing," he stammered, surprised to say the least. He looked back out the window, disdainfully.
"I've got to be going now," she said. "I'll see you la..."
"Do you have a jacket with you?" Taylor asked.
Skye looked at him, and blinked. "No. Why?"
Taylor looked at her incredulously. He hurried out of the room, and came back in a moment with a black jacket in his hands. He handed it to her.
"In that gettup," he said icily, "you'll freeze your butt off without one."
And with that said, he breezed out of the room, leaving her feeling like she had just encountered an artic breeze. She wrapped the jacket around her shoulders and smiled back at Walker.
"Bye, Mr. Hanson," she said softly, before running out of their house. She didn't want to hear him tell her to call him Walker.
