Renegade

Tracy’s mother wrapped an arm around Tracy’s shoulders, offering a quick squeeze. “Thanks. I don’t regret the extra time we took to see the flower show, but I’m sorry we missed you and Hannah.”

I wondered where he was, and when he trimmed the bush at the corner of the house. Did you notice that?

Her mother started up the stairs. “Let’s take the laundry to the living room,” she said. “We can talk and fold.”

Tracy picked up the laundry basket and followed her mother upstairs to dump the clothes on the sofa. After they’d sorted for a minute, Tracy said, “You had a good time?”

“You’ve asked me that three times,” her mother said. “I’ve answered yes every time. It was wonderful.” Smiling, she matched a pair of white crew socks and rolled them together. “Is something on your mind?”

Tracy caught the neck band of one of her stepdad’s shirts under her chin, folding the arms in. “What do you mean?”

“It’s Thursday morning and you’re not only dressed for work, you’re late for work,” her mother said. “You’re usually punctual. And we were only gone eight days—you could have brought Hannah to visit this evening.”

Tracy smiled as she set the shirt on the arm of the sofa. “I guess you know me.”

“Yes, I do. What’s wrong?”

Did you notice a new crackle in the air around Kirkwood?

“Have you noticed anything going on next door?”

“Next door?”

Both women glanced up as Matthew Gilbert walked into the living room, jangling his keys in his pocket and whistling.

Tracy had been introduced to Matthew when she was ten. She’d liked him from the start, but he’d been “Matthew my mom’s friend” for quite a while. Eventually, he’d married her mother and adopted both girls. He’d been Dad to Tracy ever since.

He paused long enough to plant a kiss atop her mother’s head, continuing his tune on his way to the front door. Apparently, the trip had put him in a good mood, too.

“Dad, wait,” Tracy said.

Matthew’s whistle changed to a grin. “I’ve got a class to teach this morning, Teacup.”

“I have an appointment, too. This’ll only take a minute.”

With the affability that made him eternally popular with freshman chemistry students at the university, her stepdad returned and gave Tracy his undivided attention. “What’ll only take a minute?”

“I wanted to tell you, someone moved into Lydia’s old house while you were gone.”

“We knew someone would buy it,” Matthew said with a frown. “The house needs a little TLC, but it’s structurally sound.”

Tracy sighed. “Riley’s living there.”

Her mother seemed vacant for a minute, then she gasped. “Riley Collins?”

Tracy nodded, watching both her mom and Matthew change from happy to thoughtful. “He’s planning to open a business in town,” she explained.

“I figured Lydia would try to sell the place,” Matthew said, frowning across at Tracy’s mother.

“Maybe Riley’s buying it,” her mother said.

No one spoke for a minute. Tracy’s green eyes traveled between her mother’s blue ones and her stepdad’s brown ones, waiting for their reactions. They traded the look they’d always traded when they wanted to discuss something in private. Karen had dubbed it the “worried-parent look,” and had compared it to spelling words in front of a toddler.

But Tracy wasn’t a child anymore, and she wanted to know their thoughts. Did the night of Karen and Riley’s departure still bother them as much as it did her? She swallowed. “You won’t mind having him as a neighbor?”

Her mother shrugged.

Tracy shook her head. She’d hoped one of them would say something to help her feel less agitated. If they couldn’t do that, she’d wanted them to say something to make refusing the job her only recourse.

“Riley hurt our family once, but he was young,” Matthew said as he stood up. “It’s ancient history. I’ve got to scoot, but we can talk when you come to dinner on Sunday.”

As her mother walked Matthew out to his car, Tracy checked her watch. Since she was meeting with Riley early, she could go straight to his office in twenty minutes. This morning’s cornflakes felt as if they’d sprouted wings. Tracy was reminded that she was not good at procrastinating.

When her mother returned, Tracy said, “I’m glad you’re okay with this, because I may be working with Riley.”

Her mother blinked. “In what aspect?”

“As an organizer. He went to Booker and asked for me.”

“That’s good, I guess.” Gwen frowned as she tossed another rolled pair of socks onto the done pile.

Tracy frowned, too. “I’m afraid he’s got some ulterior motive. People don’t request a novice.”

“Who knows?” her mother said. “Just be careful, love.”

Right. Just be careful. Solid parenting advice, but not a reason for refusal. Tracy looked at her watch again, and felt her heart take off after the cornflakes.

Ten minutes left.

She swallowed. “He flirts with me,” she stated softly.

Her mother tilted her head. “How so?”

Tracy sighed. “The way a man flirts with a woman.”

Her mother’s frown returned as she began to place the folded clothes back in the basket. “Well, he always liked you, but I wouldn’t flirt back.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’m just glad you’re here and not your sister.”

Right. Tracy was the trustworthy sister. She was the one Riley might tease but would never touch.

“Will Karen care that he’s here?” Tracy wondered aloud.

“I doubt it,” her mother said. “She told me she’s been seeing a marriage counselor. She’s trying to change.”

“She is.” Tracy was skeptical.

“Yes, and as your dad said, it’s ancient history.”

There it was again. The phrase they were all associating with Riley—ancient history. He couldn’t harm her because the harm he’d caused was a long time ago. He shouldn’t upset her because everyone deserved a second chance. He wouldn’t seduce her because she wasn’t the sister he’d seduced before. Tracy knew that’s what they were really saying.