The Protector's Mission. Margaret Daley
she’d had since he’d first known her. What else did she still do? She used to chew on her thumbnail when she was nervous. He looked at her hand and saw each fingernail was cut short.
“I’m glad you’re having a good laugh over my bear encounter. There is a downside to living a little ways out from the main part of the city. More wildlife.”
“To me that’s what’s appealing about this place. I live in town with a fenced yard. Brutus needs to have a place to exercise when he isn’t working. I can’t risk him encountering a bear.”
Lydia shifted in her chair and cringed. “I’m trying to ignore my bruised ribs, but they love reminding me they’ve been mistreated.”
“Being in that hallway protected you some from the main blast.”
She stared at her tea, tracing her finger around the rim. “I know. I...” She shook her head. “Can we not talk about the bombing?”
“You need to remember, and talking sometimes helps.”
Her mouth tightened. “Not right now. When I start trying to think about that day, my mind shuts down.”
“That’s not an unusual reaction for a traumatic experience. So what do you want to talk about, if not the case?”
“The way things ended for us. I never wanted to hurt you. If I could have done that over—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t. We can’t change what happened and discussing it to death won’t help. What was done is done.”
“I understand, but ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear.”
“Maybe I want to be reminded to be cautious.”
“With me?” Her eyes darkened. “I made a couple of big mistakes as a teenager and have learned a lot from them. I hope we can be friends at least.”
Friends. That was how things started originally. “Listen, I’m sorry it didn’t work out with you and Aaron, but when you eloped it changed everything.”
A noise from the foyer charged the air between them.
“Lydia, I’m home. Where are you?”
“I’m in the kitchen.”
He stood, the sound of his chair scraping across the floor echoing through the kitchen. “I need to check in with Thomas before I call it a day. I’d better leave. I’ll lock the door on my way out.” He passed Kate in the dining room, nodding at her but not slowing his step.
Always in the back of his mind, he wondered why she’d married Aaron so fast after going out with him again. He’d thought they really had a chance to make it work that second time. He was a foster kid while Aaron came from a good family with some influence in Anchorage. Had money in the end meant something to Lydia? Or was it something else that changed her mind? They had started to make up after their breakup at Christmas, but in a snap of his finger, everything had fallen apart. And Jesse had only himself to rely on, again.
* * *
Lydia forced a smile when Kate came into the kitchen. The sound of the front door slamming came just as Lydia realized she’d have to tell Jesse the whole sordid incident of her becoming pregnant and having to marry Aaron. One foolish night and her whole life had changed. She lost so much then. Although she’d communicated with Kate on a regular basis over the years, they weren’t close. And her father had made it clear she wasn’t welcome in Anchorage.
“How was school?”
Kate shrugged. “Nothing earth-shattering. Everyone is still talking about the bombing. They’re scared.”
“So am I.”
“They’ve locked down the school tight. No one gets inside without a valid reason and everyone gets searched at the main entrance.”
“Good. I’m glad they’re taking precautions. I imagine other places will, too.”
Kate went to the refrigerator and looked inside. “We shouldn’t have to live in fear like this. Have you remembered anything?”
She already felt pressured. She hated that it was also coming from Kate. “I’m trying.” Lydia took her cup to the sink. “I’m going to lie down. Just doing this little has worn me out.”
“Can we order pizza tonight?”
“Sure. That way I don’t have to come up with something.” Lydia left the kitchen while Kate sliced cheese to put on crackers.
Emotionally and physically drained, Lydia moved slowly toward her bedroom at the end of the hallway. Luckily there were no steps to climb.
Crossing to the dresser, she decided to get comfortable and put on her pajamas, although it was only four thirty in the afternoon. In fact, she might sleep most of the evening and only get up to eat pizza, which she loved.
After she took a pair of pj’s out, she swung around, her gaze skimming over the items on her desk as she made her way to the bathroom connected to her bedroom. She stopped and stared at the wooden surface. Something was wrong. Her cup of pens seemed askew. Her desk didn’t look ransacked, but it didn’t look right. A shiver wracked her weakened body. Someone had gone through her desk.
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