Shooting the Moon

What did she say?

That he was the cutest boy in school.

He was certainly handsome. She’d winked at him. But you’re going to be even better-looking.

He’d smiled, but seemed to sink into a rather somber mood almost immediately after. Grandfather doesn’t think I look anything like my dad.

Lauren had almost admitted that Quentin Worthington probably didn’t see any resemblance between father and son because he didn’t want to. But getting caught up in a conversation that would only disparage Harley wouldn’t do Brandon any good. Her father had told him enough negative things about Harley already.

Grandfather didn’t see as much of Harley as your mother and I did. Maybe he doesn’t remember.

That’s not it, Brandon had surprised her by saying. I think he’s afraid I’ll turn out just like him.

From the mouths of babes….

“I’ll give him the message you called,” Tank said.

Lauren massaged her temple. “Okay. And let him know he left his cell phone at Hudson & Taylor’s, will you? A woman by the name of Angela has it.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Lauren?”

“Yeah?”

“Harley’s…well, he’s—ah, shit, never mind. It’s none of my business. I’ll let you go.”

“What?” she prompted. Had Harley said something about her? About Brandon? About his plans?

Tank seemed to struggle with the words. “If it doesn’t work out for Harley to see Brandon tonight, I hope you’ll consider letting him come over another time. He’s pretty excited about meeting his boy.”

This, Lauren didn’t want to hear. She couldn’t think of Harley’s feelings. She already had her own heart and her parents and Brandon to consider. Even Audra’s memory seemed to be pulling at her. Lauren just couldn’t tell which direction her sister would want her to go. After her relationship with Harley, Audra had grown very bitter and blamed their father for most of her mistakes. If she were alive, would she be in Harley’s camp? If so, why hadn’t she ever contacted him?

Ignoring the melancholy that threatened whenever she thought of Audra, Lauren said, “I’ll keep that in mind,” but she warned herself to forget about it instead.

“Who was that?” Brandon asked, toting his backpack into the kitchen as she hung up the phone.

Lauren whirled at the sound of his voice. She’d been so wrapped up in her conversation with Tank that she hadn’t heard him come in. “No one you know, sweetie.”

“Did Grandma and Grandpa call today?”

“I talked to them this morning.”

“When are they coming home?”

“Not until the middle of June, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Delving into his backpack, Brandon began to spread his books on the table. “I have tons of homework,” he complained. “I don’t know why Mrs. Cooper had to give us so much today. Fourth grade isn’t supposed to be so hard.”

“It’s good for you,” Lauren replied automatically. Brandon was enrolled in one of the best private schools in the state and usually had quite a bit of homework. But Lauren’s thoughts weren’t on his education. She was wondering what she’d do if Harley didn’t go back to Tank’s—if he didn’t get her message. She certainly couldn’t stay here and hope to turn him away at the door.

“Come on,” she said suddenly. “Pack your stuff and bring it with you. We’re going to Kimberly’s.”

“What?” Brandon paused in mid-motion. “I thought you were making dinner.”

“We’ll take it with us and finish it there.”

He gave her a mystified look. “You’re acting weird, Aunt Lauren, you know that?”

“Just because I want to go to Kimberly’s? We go there all the time.”

“But we don’t carry our dinner over there.”

“It’ll be fun.” Hopping off the stool at the desk, she hurried to the large walk-in pantry to get the picnic basket.

“Do I have to spend the night again?” he asked.

“Don’t you like staying with Kimberly?” She found the picnic basket easily enough and hauled it out to the kitchen, where she started gathering their meal so they could leave as soon as possible.

“I guess,” he said. “But I’d rather stay home. It’s a school night, remember?”

“Isn’t that my line?” She forced a smile, hoping he’d cooperate without her having to push. She hated to make him go to Kimberly’s if he didn’t want to, but he had to go somewhere, and Kimberly’s place was safe. “We can make an exception every once in a while, you know,” she added, getting the salad from the refrigerator.

Instead of packing up, he sank into his seat and started flipping his pencil against the table. Tap, tap, tap, tap…

“Then can I go to Scott’s instead?”

“Not tonight.”

Tap, tap, tap… “Why?”

“Because Kimberly’s dog really likes it when you come to visit,” she said, searching for the plastic lid that would seal the bowl containing the steaks and marinade.

“I have to go to Kimberly’s because her dog likes me?” he asked with a grimace. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap…

Too nervous to tolerate the noise, Lauren wanted to grab the pencil out of Brandon’s hand. They needed to get out of the house quickly. What if Harley arrived early?

“Just get moving, okay?” she said, keeping her voice calm only with great effort. Brandon had some legitimate points—she was acting strange, spending the night on a weekday did break house rules, and they didn’t generally pack up their dinner at the last minute and flee from home. But she couldn’t explain her reasons, and she didn’t have time to argue with him. She was the adult. He was the child. She needed him to obey, and fast.

Finding the lid, she covered the bowl and forced it inside the already crowded basket, then turned her attention to wrapping the rolls in plastic.

Tap…tap…tap… “But I don’t see why Scott’s house isn’t just as good,” he persisted, slouching lower in his seat. “I mean, it’s across the street. You wouldn’t even have to come get me for school.”

“Just get your things, dammit!” she snapped.

The tapping stopped, and he jumped to his feet and began to fill his backpack, but she could tell from the expression on his face that he was surprised—and probably a little hurt. “What did I do?” he asked. “Why are you mad at me?”