to ask you a couple questions. About signing up for classes, I hope.” He put the phone back up to his ear. “Hey, Summer, Zach is—”
Based on the sudden disappointment on the boy’s face, Zach could only assume the poor old thing had changed her mind.
“No, wait! Please don’t hang up, Summer, he’s standing right here!”
Alex thrust the phone into Zach’s hand. “Go easy on her, will ya? Mom says she’s kinda fragile.”
Fragile. The very word Zach’s mom had used to describe Libby right after her ordeal. But unlike the woman on the phone, Libby bounced back quickly, due in part to the unwavering support of friends and family...and her own stubborn determination to put the nightmare behind her. He knew next to nothing about this Summer person, but from what little Alex had told him, Zach guessed she wasn’t made of the same sturdy stuff.
“Miss Lane? Zach Marshall here.” He caught a distant glimpse of himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror at the back of the room. What are you smiling about, you big idiot. She can’t see you. “What can I do for you?” he said, putting his back to his reflection.
“You’ll probably think I’m being ridiculous,” she began, “but I don’t know enough about your studio—or self-defense, for that matter—to even voice an intelligent question. What I do know is that Alex speaks very highly of you. And that he swears that what you’ve taught him has improved every area of his life.”
That smooth, sultry voice sure didn’t go with his image of a cringing spinster. She’d roused his curiosity, for sure.
“Just so happens Wednesday is our slow day,” he said. “If you’re not busy now, c’mon down. I’ll give you the nickel tour, and do my best to answer whatever ques—”
Alex heaved a frustrated sigh and slapped a palm over his eyes. “She never leaves her house,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Not ever. Remember?”
“Trust me,” Zach mouthed.
“On second thought,” he said into the phone, “I have a better idea. Alex needs some behind-the-wheel time before his big driver’s test. How about we drive over, pick you up and bring you back here. There’s a small class starting in about an hour. You could watch, and maybe that’ll answer some of your questions.”
“I, well, but...”
Alex leaned closer and said into the mouthpiece, “Say yes, Summer. Please? I could use the driving practice. You’ll be doing me a really, really big favor.”
Her sigh filtered into Zach’s ear. Frustration? Angst? Uncertainty? Not that it mattered. Patience had been the main ingredient in Libby’s recovery. That, and an ample supply of tenacity. Maybe Miss Lane had both, and just didn’t know it. Yet.
Alex, palm extended and fingers wiggling, asked for the phone, and Zach gladly handed it over. He had no patience and very little pity for people who didn’t at least try.
“If we leave right now,” the boy told her, “we can be there in ten minutes.” He hung up and grabbed his parka from the hook beside the door. “Let’s make tracks, before she changes her mind.”
“She said yes?”
Alex shrugged. “She didn’t say no...”
Zach told his assistant, Emma, that he’d be back within the hour then tossed Alex his keys to his pickup. As the teen unlocked the doors, Zach shrugged into his jacket. “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. My entire driving future is riding on it.” Alex laughed and climbed in behind the wheel. “Hey. That’s a pun.” He stuck the key into the ignition. “My entire driving future is riding on it. Get it?”
“Yeah, I get it. And my good-driver insurance policy is riding on it, too, so keep that in mind.”
Zach buckled his seat belt. “To be honest, I’m not half as worried about what you’ll do behind the wheel as I am about what she’ll do when we get there.”
“Do? What could she do?”
“Oh, I dunno. She could meet us at the door, brandishing a shotgun, for starters.”
“Summer?” Alex laughed. “No way. She won’t even squish a spider.”
Probably afraid to, Zach thought as Alex backed out of the parking space.
A car horn blared, and the boy slammed on the brakes.
“Crazy kid!” an elderly man bellowed, shaking his fist. “Where’d you get your license, in a bubble gum machine?”
Alex’s shoulders slumped, and Zach raised his eyebrows. “You know what you did wrong, right?”
“Didn’t check the mirrors.” Smiling sheepishly, he added, “Sorry. Won’t happen again. Promise.”
“Let’s hope not. Your entire driving future is riding on it, remember.”
For the duration of the short trip, Alex kept his word, even while chattering about the attack that turned Summer Lane into a recluse. The kid didn’t have many details, though, so Zach decided that tonight he’d fire up the laptop, see what he could find out about her online. Wouldn’t it be faster and easier to ask her?
Alex took the corner a little sharply, distracting Zach from the question.
“Sorry. I’ll be more careful at the next corner,” Alex said. “You think we’ll get that snow they’re calling for?”
Zach held tight to the grab handle. “Probably, but I hope not.”
As Alex pulled into her driveway, Zach saw the blinds beside her front door snap shut. Had she been standing there, watching, since the kid hung up the phone?
Alex got out of the truck first, and waved as he approached the town house. “Hey, Summer,” he called. “It’s us. Zach and me.”
He whispered to Zach, “She’ll never leave here, but this is a start.”
The door opened slowly, and there it was again, that lovely, amazing voice.
“Please,” she said from somewhere in the shadows. “Come in.”
“You’ve been baking again, haven’t you,” Alex said, heading straight for the kitchen.
Baking again? Libby made things from fabric and yarn. Sweaters. Mittens. Curtains and throw pillows, and called her craft projects “coping mechanisms.” Did the oven serve the same purpose for Summer?
“Man, oh man,” Alex said around a mouthful of cookie. “I think these are your best ever!”
“Thanks,” she said. “Have as many as you like. I can’t eat them all by myself.”
For half a second, silence. Then all three laughed, because Alex had stuffed one cookie into his mouth, and held one in each hand.
“Name’s
