when he’d come in to prepare the vegetables he’d be grilling with chicken for dinner that night.
“At least I think they’re here. Someone just pulled up in front of my house. Hold on, let me look. I don’t recognize the car, but...”
Tressa’s voice sounded expectant. Which was better than mistrustful. This was good, considering the drama-ridden world in which his ex-wife lived. And he, thankfully, did not.
Chewing on his lower lip, he waited, deliberating over his options. He’d called to see if she’d tell him anything. Give him any clue as to whether or not she was behind the call to social services. To the fact that his world had once again been turned completely upside down.
It had been why he’d left her. Or rather, taken her up on one of her oft-repeated “offers” to leave him. He couldn’t have his son growing up with the drama-based tension that Tressa brought into every room she occupied.
If she stayed there long enough, that was.
“Who is it?” he asked now, trepidation knotting his insides to the point of decimating his appetite. A feeling he’d grown used to during his years with the woman who’d captivated him and then slowly instilled pity within him. Heart-wrenching pity. For her.
She’d given no indication, in the five minutes they’d been talking, that she’d had a visit from social services. Or any indication that anything was wrong, either.
Other than her job, but that was another story...
“I don’t know. No one’s getting out. But I can see her there. It’s a woman. Her hair’s in a twist.”
Lacey. But if she’d been there to report back to Tressa, as in, his ex-wife being the one who’d called to report him, Tressa would surely have recognized her and made a quick excuse to ditch him. Unless she had concerns...
“She’s blonde. Looks about our age...” There was curiosity in Tressa’s tone now. But the tone was still soft. Still the calm and therefore quite likable side of the woman he’d married. “She’s wearing some kind of jacket, sky blue. Who wears sky blue jackets anymore?”
So Tressa.
And also, so Lacey. He knew exactly what the outdated jacket looked like. She’d had it on that morning when she’d escorted his son down the hall and away from him. To play with cars, according to Levi.
Jem reached for a beer. If Tressa had not called social services, this was not going to be good.
Lacey hadn’t said a word about visiting Levi’s mother that evening when she’d called just as he was basting the chicken that was already on the grill.
She’d called to check on Levi, she’d said.
Like a storm chaser, he could predict what was coming. He also knew that he wasn’t going to say anything to Tressa about it—a decision made right that second. After all the years he’d spent defending his wife’s actions, her words when she went off inappropriately, so many years of smoothing feathers she hadn’t meant to ruffle, he didn’t want anyone associating him with her anymore.
Not in a partner sense.
And most particularly not when a decision maker from social services was involved.
“She’s getting out now,” Tressa was saying. “Probably just selling something. I hope it’s not clothes.” His ex-wife chuckled, still at ease.
Jem gripped the back of his neck.
“If it’s jewelry, I’ll buy some. Poor thing, having to go door-to-door to make a living. I can always give it for Christmas presents. Nice car she’s driving. I wonder if she just lost her job. Or maybe her ex dumped her for someone a little more fashion conscious...”
Sounding truly compassionate now, Tressa’s voice was fading.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Jem said, reminding her that he was still there.
“Yeah, fine, Jem. Call me.”
She’d disconnected before he heard the doorbell ring. Call me. That was Tressa. I only want people in my life who prove they want to be there.
It was always about meeting her expectations. As long as you could do that...
Jem looked down at the bundle resting on the counter beside him. He’d been about to carry it out to the grill, but had decided to check in with Tressa first—right after Lacey had called him, butting into his evening, bothering him all over again...
He picked up the bundle—broccoli and corn with a little bit of butter, wrapped in foil. Weird way to prepare them, maybe, but Levi liked them that way.
And only broccoli and corn. Not carrots. Not beets. And certainly not the Brussels sprouts Jem tried on him one time.
He’d eat raw cucumbers, too. But only if they were peeled...
Not once, in the entire five minutes they’d been on the phone, had Tressa asked him how Levi was doing with his cast. She’d asked about his day in school, asked if he’d missed her. But not a word about the broken arm their son was carrying around, learning how to adjust to. Not a word about the T-ball he’d missed.
In that aspect, she was a bit like their son—able to let go of regrets. Except Levi’s disruptions were truly gone once he let them go. Tressa just swept hers under the rug.
Lacey Hamilton didn’t seem like the type of woman you swept away.
* * *
HAVING TAKEN A moment to prepare herself, to erase her morning with Levi and focus only on the woman she was about to meet, Lacey felt ready as she climbed the step up to the small, neat porch.
She liked the wicker bench and table, the red geraniums blooming in a pot in the corner. Geraniums took care to maintain, she knew.
The only way to help Levi was to open her mind up to whatever facts might present themselves. No matter how hard or bad they could turn out to be.
The flowers were a nice touch. And based on the pale pink discoloration of the white picket rail behind them, the blooms had been there awhile.
She knocked, expecting to wait a minute while the resident checked her out through the peephole. Or the nearby window, she revised, as she saw the curtain move.
Would the woman answer the door? Or slip out the back?
Pretend she wasn’t home?
She’d once had a parent climb out of a second-story window with the endangered child in her arms.
There was no second story here. And she knew for a fact that the child wasn’t in residence. She’d called Jeremiah Bridges before she’d left her office to see how Levi was doing after his meeting with her that morning. She’d wanted to know if he had any questions that needed answering. She’d told him that he was to refer all such questions to her. According to him, there hadn’t been any.
Could be true. Considering the fact that Levi was only four. It could also be that his father was very calmly and politely telling her to go
