wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“Oh.” She felt so very small. And mean. “Thank you.”
They stared at each other. She could hear Mitzi barking and glanced over Bray’s shoulder. Across the street, she could see the small white dog through the window. She was on the back of the couch, her nose pressed to the glass.
Bray turned his head to look.
“That’s Trudy Hudder’s house,” Summer said.
“Junior English?” Bray asked.
She nodded. Mrs. Hudder had introduced literature to every student in Ravesville for forty years before retiring a few years earlier.
Adie liked to play with the dog. Would listen to hear Mitzi outside and then sneak out for a quick couple of dog kisses.
Summer whipped around to make sure her children were not at the door or with their own noses pressed up against the window. The blinds were down, thank goodness. Sometimes Keagan forgot to do that when it got dark. She turned back to Bray.
“It’s been a long time,” he said. “I thought we might get a drink or something.”
“I can’t. My children are home alone.”
“You have a coffeepot?”
Bray had always loved coffee, from the time he’d been a teenager. Her, too. They’d been the only sixteen-year-olds who ordered coffee with their pizza. She should lie. Tell him she gave it up years ago. When she married someone else.
“I do,” she said.
“Works for me.” He took a couple of steps toward her, closing the ten-foot gap.
This was such a bad idea. She’d avoided having a conversation with this man for fifteen years. Had been hoping to avoid it for another fifteen. She held up her hand.
He stopped.
Bray would not force his way in. That had never been his way. He had always been a gentleman.
She could give him ten minutes. She owed him much more. She motioned with her hand for him to follow her.
They went into the house through the garage. When they stepped into the kitchen, she could hear the television blaring in the family room. There were dirty dishes on the counter that hadn’t been there when she’d left less than two hours ago. There was also a big splotch of milk on the floor, as if Adie might have been trying to pour a glass and the jug had been too heavy.
She just couldn’t worry about it now.
“I’m home,” she yelled.
“Mama,” Adie said. Feet came thundering around the corner.
Summer leaned down and scooped up her little girl. “Hey, slow down,” she said, holding her tight.
Adie squirmed in her arms. She pointed to Bray. “Who’s that?”
“This is Mr. Hollister,” Summer said.
Bray waved. “Hi, Adie. How about you just call me Bray. That’s a lot easier to say.”
“Bray,” Adie repeated. “Like neigh,” she said, making the sound of a horse.
Bray smiled. “Exactly.”
Adie turned back to her. “You’re late,” she said. “We’re hungry.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’ll start dinner in just a few minutes,” she said. She let Adie slide down her body. Once the little girl’s feet hit the ground, she was off.
“Mom’s home and there’s a man with her.” Adie’s voice floated back to them.
The volume on the television went down. In came Keagan, his thin shoulders slouched forward, his too-long hair in his eyes.
She reached out a hand to ruffle his hair. He jerked away. He was staring at Bray.
“Thanks for watching Adie,” Summer said. “This is Bray Hollister. We...we were in school together.”
Bray stepped forward, extended his hand. It took Keagan a second, but he stuck his arm out.
“Nice to meet you, Keagan. I understand you like football.”
Keagan didn’t answer. He turned to his mother. “I thought you were going to the church for vases.”
“I...did. Remember, it’s Chase Hollister who is getting married. Well, Bray is Chase’s older brother. He’s home for the wedding.”
“Dad stopped by,” Keagan said.
“When?” she asked quickly.
“Right after you left.”
Thank goodness. She’d hoped he hadn’t come by after the incident at the church. “I saw him. He stopped by the church.”
“He seemed upset about something.”
He had seemed more volatile than usual. A simple conversation about switching the weekend the kids would be at his house had gone south so fast that she still wasn’t sure what had set him off. He hadn’t looked good, either. There had been dark circles under his pale blue eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well for some time.
Maybe trouble at work. Gossip had been swirling recently about a fight between Gary and a newly hired officer named Daniel Stone. Nobody seemed to have the details, and neither Gary nor Daniel was talking about it. Probably at the direction of Chief Poole. He was probably embarrassed that his small department was a topic of conversation.
But she’d officially given up making excuses for Gary’s behavior when she’d signed the divorce paperwork. Never ran him down in front of the kids, but didn’t try to build him up to be father of the year, either. “You don’t need to worry about your dad,” she said. “Did you do your homework?”
He gave her the you’re so stupid look. “We don’t have school until next Monday.”
That was right. Tomorrow was the day before Thanksgiving, and the kids were getting a nice long holiday. “Well, you can watch a little more television. Just keep the volume down,” she suggested.
Keagan looked between her and Bray. “What are you going to be doing?”
The bad mother in her so wanted to tell him that it was none of his business. Since starting high school three months earlier, Keagan had got progressively more distant, rarely volunteering any conversation and definitely not interested in anything Summer was doing.
But she was the adult. Supposedly smarter, more mature. “I’m going to have a little conversation with Mr. Hollister and then I’m going to fix dinner. I’ll call you when it’s ready,” she said.
He took the hint and shuffled out of the kitchen. The small space got quiet again. She got busy making a small pot of coffee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bray
