They found Ethan in the kitchen, sitting on the floor in front of the open refrigerator, trying to get the lid off a plastic container. He succeeded before they reached him, sending leftover fruit salad flying, all over him and the floor.
Ethan jumped in surprise, his mouth flew open and his arms shot out to the sides, but he seemed too shocked to cry.
“Oh, baby,” Jenna said, setting the container aside and lifting him. She carried him over to the counter by the sink to clean his face and hands. “You’re fine. I’ll fix you a real supper in just a minute.”
Sam closed the fridge door and picked up the container and the chunks of wet fruit off the floor. He dropped the tub into the sink.
“Froggy,” Ethan said, pointing at Sam.
“Great,” Sam said, “now he thinks I’m a horse. He doesn’t have a clue who I am.”
“No,” Jenna said, “he has a toy frog.”
“Froggy’s my dad’s horse.”
Jenna stripped off Ethan’s shirt and carried him over to his booster seat at the table. “Then he’s just remembering riding horses with you. He must have had a good time.”
“He did at that. My dad has a way with kids. Better, even, than my mom.”
She smiled at him, but the smile quickly vanished. She wet a washcloth and went to clean up the rest of the mess off the floor. “Why won’t Brandon leave me alone?”
“He’s a psycho or something,” Sam answered. “I think it’s time he and I had a serious talk.”
“That’ll only make it worse.”
“I just don’t get this guy. It’s like he thinks we’re stupid.”
“He thinks I’m stupid,” Jenna amended. “I wish I’d never listened to his ridiculous offer in the first place.”
“That’s just it,” Sam said, turning to look out the window over the sink. “I don’t know what to do with this guy. It’s all weird stuff. Nothing straightforward. Tricks and lies. The fake will and marriage thing, trying to get you fired, the rumors, sending that woman over. Who acts like that? It’s childish. What do I do? Threaten him? Beat the snot out of him?” He turned around, annoyed. “I don’t think there’s a way to reason with him.”
“Don’t do anything,” Jenna said. “Don’t stoop to his level. He’s always been strange.”
Brianna strolled into the kitchen, gave Sam a dirty look, then straddled the area where Jenna knelt cleaning to open the fridge and inspect its contents.
“That baby isn’t mine,” Sam told the sister, hating he’d lost her confidence.
“Sure,” she said.
Jenna stood. “It’s true. Brandon set that up.” She gave Sam a look of reproach. “Of course, getting your cousins or whoever to terrorize him hasn’t helped.”
He felt like shouting, but kept his calm. “I didn’t do that, either.”
“I did,” Brianna said, taking a package of chicken breasts out of the fridge. “Sort of. Autumn and Mercy and Lara Beth said if he kept bothering us to call them. So, I did, when he left those flowers and I knew he meant to do something else, maybe something bad. They told me what happened.” She chuckled. “Made him clean up horse poop. It’s hilarious. He deserved it.”
Sam wanted to say something then, about involving his cousins. He was afraid they might take their version of retribution too far one day. But he didn’t want to fuss at Bri in front of Jenna. It wasn’t really his place.
Jenna didn’t say anything until she’d cleaned the floor and rinsed out the cloth. “It’s only made things worse. Maybe we should stop responding to him. Ignore him.” She went into the laundry room and returned with a clean shirt for Ethan. “Or, maybe we should apologize.”
Brianna dropped a glass baking dish to the counter. “Apologize? Are you kidding?”
Jenna came over and stopped to look at the chicken. “Let’s take the high road. What are you planning?”
“That chopped up chicken and rice thing Ethan likes.”
“With the broc—”
“Yeah.”
“And the—”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to fix those—”
“Oh!” Brianna said brightly. “Yeah.”
Jenna dodged around Sam and he decided to get out of their way. He picked up Ethan, noticing his hair was still a little sticky. “Let’s go make ourselves useful somewhere else, bud. Let the experts do their thing.”
He had a phone call to make. He wanted to see if his Uncle Tad had made any progress in his investigation.
***
Jenna watched Sam leave. Her heart began to thud, matching the rhythm she was beating out on her chest with her fingernails. She’d tried to appear calm around Sam, and Ethan, not wanting either of them upset, but she was worried about the situation with Brandon. This was just like high school all over again. The almost constant pestering. Never quite harassing, but going out of his way to make her life difficult. Spreading rumors, chasing off potential dates, stealing her homework so she would fail an assignment.
Friends had said it was because he had a crush on her, but Jenna had never really felt that was true. It was more like he hated her. Plain and simple hate.
And she had no idea why.
“Are you sure Sam’s telling the truth?” Bri asked.
“Yeah. He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Why not? He did it to you.”
She watched Bri slice the chicken breasts on the glass cutting board. She hadn’t wanted to fuss at Bri in front of Sam, but was furious her sister had been so irresponsible. “Forget about Sam. I want to talk about what you did.”
Bri stilled for a moment, then went back to work. “I like Autumn and her cousins. They’re fun. They’re taking me inner tubing this weekend. In the afternoon, after the garage sale. So don’t freak out.”
Jenna listened but was in no mood to be sidetracked. “I don’t need you to protect me. Okay? Don’t ever do anything like that again. I can handle this on my own.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that and he keeps coming back.”
That much was true, but she planned to put a stop to Brandon’s nonsense. For good. “Can you handle things while I go out for about half an hour?”
Bri turned in surprise. “Go where?”
Jenna went to the table by the garage door and dug through Brianna’s purse until she found the phone. “And make sure Sam keeps an eye on Ethan, please?”
She grabbed her own purse, the car keys, and headed out the door.
“Where are you going?” Bri demanded.
But Jenna was too determined to be stopped.
Jenna drove across town to the condos where she knew Brandon lived. The community was large and was comprised of several buildings. She didn’t know which unit was his, but it didn’t matter. She drove around until she spotted the silver Porsche then found a parking space nearby and pulled out the phone. She found his number in the contacts and texted that she wanted to speak to him.
Only a few seconds passed before she received a reply. Come on in.
Not likely. She looked around at the windows, realizing by his invitation he must be watching. U come out.
Again, only moments passed. Sidecar bar 8.
Now or never, she replied.
No reply came and she waited. And waited. Several minutes passed and she was about to call him when her phone chimed.
Never.
She thought for a moment. Why do you hate me? That was the question she really wanted to ask. And the answer she really needed.
Think back, he wrote. Think way back.
She did, or tried to. Had she done something to him? Years ago? Was this still about high school? Her refusal to date him? It couldn’t be. She thought as far back as she’d known him, back to when they were five or six years old. But nothing stood out. She’d never liked him and he must have known. She might have even said so to his face, when they were very young. But only a disturbed person would hold on to a grudge like that for twenty years.
J
ust tell me.
Still not done, he wrote.
Her fingers shook as she typed. Leave me alone!
He sent her back a smiley face.
Letting out a growl, she tossed the phone to the passenger seat and headed home. She couldn’t remember ever hating anyone. Not really. And not like this.
Sam was right. How could they fight him? He never gave her enough evidence to go to the police and claim harassment. In fact, she was surprised he hadn’t gone to the police himself after what Sam’s cousins had done to him. Whatever that was, exactly. After seeing how awful Brandon had looked, she couldn’t imagine it had been pleasant.
He had other plans. She was sure of it. He was rich, didn’t work, and probably had nothing better to do than single her out and slowly drive her crazy. For fun?
She couldn’t imagine what he’d do next. And maybe that was the plan. To make her wonder? To make her fearful and jumpy? To make her wait?
He was acting childish. Acting like a kid. She thought about what she would do if another child were pestering Ethan and the idea came to her. If Brandon wanted to act like a child, she’d treat him like one.
She drove out to the Stewart estate and pressed the button on the intercom at the gate. When a voice answered, Jenna let out a breath and said, “I’d like to speak to Winston Stewart, please.”
When Jenna got home, Bri was dolloping the cheese biscuits onto a cookie sheet and had the salad ready. She could smell the chicken casserole baking in the oven. She went and gave her sister a kiss on the cheek.
“Sorry about that. I’ll do the dishes.”
“Did you accomplish anything, at least?” Bri asked, cleverly piecing together Jenna’s plans for herself.
“Not really.” It had been a wasted trip. “Where’s Ethan? And Sam?”
Bri cocked her head to the side. “They went that way. They came in here and got in my way so I made them leave.” She turned around with the spoon in her hand, dropping bits of dough on the floor. “I forgot to tell you. The realtor-lady, Karen, called today and said to call her. The people who looked at the house this morning decided not to make an offer. She said she had to talk to you. She sounded serious.”
Jenna suppressed a groan. She’d probably have to drop the price. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
She went upstairs to change out of her work clothes then found Sam and Ethan in the den. Ethan was riding his tricycle, in the house, and Sam was texting. He put his phone away when she came in.
He smiled at her but guiltily. He gestured to Ethan. “He asked for it and I left his cap and sunscreen at my mom’s. I couldn’t decide which would get me in more trouble.”
Jenna sat down beside him, too tired to care about scuffmarks or bangs on the furniture. “He’s fine. I’ll clean up later.”
Sam frowned as if surprised by her reaction but let it go. “I heard you went out,” he said and she could tell he wanted to know where she’d gone, and why.
“Just a short errand.” She didn’t want to talk about it. Her brief visit with the elder Mr. Stewart had been tense and uncomfortable. She’d interrupted his dinner. He’d kept her standing in his huge and elegant entry hall and told her in no uncertain terms he didn’t like being bothered about Brandon’s antics. He wasn’t the boy’s father. But after she’d almost pleaded with him, he’d agreed to talk to Brandon, when he found the time.
She’d thought of going to Kenneth Stewart, Brandon’s father, but knew enough about the family to know Kenneth Stewart wouldn’t do anything to help her. He’d been the one to call Mr. O’Hara trying to get her fired. He was an oversized kid, just like Brandon.
She hadn’t accomplished anything on her outing.
Sam gestured to Ethan, thankfully letting the subject drop. “He keeps talking about the horses. And my dad’s horse, Froggy, in particular. He’s not letting that go. He’s named his tricycle Froggy.”
“Maybe you can take him out again tomorrow, or sometime. If your parents don’t mind.”
He gave her that surprised frown again, and put his arm around her neck, pulling her in to give her a kiss on the head. “I thought you’d be all over me about that.”
“Why? I started riding lessons when I was five. And I’m assuming you’ll keep a tight hold on him and don’t let the horse trot.”
He leaned back to give her another of those curious looks. “You, on a horse?”
“I used to ride in competitions. Eventing. I have ribbons and trophies around here somewhere. It’s probably not like the riding you do, though. I rode English saddle.”
“You never told me that,” he said, sounding excited. “I need to take you out riding. When was the last time you were on a horse?”
“Oh, ten years, I guess. My dad made me quit when I was about fifteen or sixteen.”
“Why?”
She had to think back to those days. “He said it was time to get serious. Give up childish things and all.”
“Harsh,” Sam whispered, sitting back and crossing his arms.
“I think he couldn’t afford it anymore. He was building this house around that time. And getting ready to run for mayor.”
Sam shrugged as if maybe, just maybe, that made it okay. “Speaking of this house. Why don’t you let me make your mortgage payments and then you can sell it easier. Your sister said you’re not getting any offers. Pay me back once it’s sold. Or, not, whatever. It’s bugging me, worrying about you.”
After the day she’d had, she seriously considered his offer. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“My brother moved to Cincinnati,” he said. “You remember Jack? I’ve been getting calls right and left. He’s getting married and selling up. He’s not coming back.”
“Oh, well that’s great,” she said. “Or, is it bad news?” She couldn’t gauge his mood. He seemed distracted.
He turned to face her. “What I was thinking is, what if we get you and Ethan, and your sister, moved out to his house? You’ve packed up most of your stuff anyway. I’d feel better with you there, where that Stewart idiot can’t find you.” He held up a defensive hand. “I’m not trying to rush things. It’s just Jack’s house is sitting empty and I keep seeing that damn Porsche around. I passed it on my way here earlier this afternoon.” His cheeks darkened. “Before the incident.”
Brandon’s last text had haunted her all the way home. Still not done. Did that mean one day soon they would be done? Through? Did he have one big, final and terrible plan for her? Was Ethan safe?
Brianna called them in to eat and she stood to lift Ethan off his tricycle. He ran ahead to the kitchen. “I may just take you up on that offer.”
Sam walked close behind her, holding on to her waist. “Besides, and no offense to your dad, but this place gives me the creeps.”
She slowed so he’d press up against her back and wrap his arms around her. “Really? Why?”
“Everything is white. I’m half-afraid to even sit down. I don’t see how you keep it clean with a kid here.”
“It’s a chore.” She’d always preferred their other house herself, the cozy home she’d grown up in, but was used to the sterile, airy feel of the house now. Her father’s idea of opulence and prestige. “Your brother’s house. Is that the place with the pond and the lights?”
“That’s the one.”
Remembering the beauty of the place seemed to ease the tension of the day and she imagined the look on Ethan’s face when he saw all the sparkling lights in the trees. The colorful lights around the landscaped lawn. The large lighted fountain in the middle of the pond. Like Christmas every night.
They gathered at the kitchen table, like a family, and chatted. Sam told them about Ethan’s day playing with his cousins and riding a horse. Brianna told about her day, about how she’d filled out ‘like a million applications,’ but hadn’t heard back on anything yet. She was starting with the jobs she actually wanted and working her way down to whatever she could find. With some prompting, Ethan told them about his adventu
re riding Froggy. But all Jenna could really think about was the house on the pond.
She imagined sitting on the back porch at night with Sam and gazing out at that pond, where Ethan was conceived, and somehow it seemed like going home. Like finally finding the home she’d wanted all her life.
The phone rang from her purse, over on the table by the garage door. Bri was closer and jumped up to get it. Her sister came back to the table with the phone. “For you,” she said, handing Jenna the phone.
She spoke briefly then handed the phone back to Bri. She looked up to find everyone staring at her. “Just the office,” she told them.
“What are you sorry about?” Bri asked. “Was that you-know-who?”
“Who?”
“Buttface. You weren’t apologizing to him, were you?”
“No,” Jenna told them all again. “It was the office. Mr. O’Hara had a stroke. He’s in the hospital.”
“Oh,” Sam said, giving her knee a pat under the table. “He’s your boss, right? That’s too bad, baby.”
“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t really know him. But he defended me. In a way.” He’d mostly been defending the firm, but he’d been willing to give her a chance. Of course, none of that mattered now.
“You look upset,” Bri said, squinting suspiciously as she stood to take her plate to the sink. “Your face gets all red.”
“I’m just surprised.” But she didn’t want to talk about it yet. She needed time to think. She didn’t know what to do now. The news she’d just received changed everything. She turned her attention to Sam. “How soon could we move to your brother’s house?”
Sam smiled and gave her a little punch in the arm. “Soon as you want. Tonight.”
“Then let’s do that. I need to make some kind of change. I’m stuck in a rut. I need to change something. My outlook or my location. Something. I can’t keep going on this way.”
Sam sobered and leaned forward. “What’s this about?”
But she could only look at her son, who was carefully stabbing a small chunk of chicken with his fork, and shake her head. “We’ll talk later.”
“We’re moving somewhere?” Brianna whirled around suddenly, as if finally catching up to the conversation. “Where are we moving?”
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