13
Liv stoodin front of the large picture window in her family room, watching Zeke pace back and forth at the end of her driveway. The familiar, delicious aroma of the slow-cooker’s contents—tomatoes, oregano, basil, garlic, and parsley—filled the house and calmed her jangling nerves, even as guilt thrummed in her ears with each heartbeat.
If he hadn’t shown up when he did, she would have made the disastrous choice to drive to Brodie’s school. Twice on the way there, she’d experienced an overwhelming urge to close her eyes. The only thing that had kept her conscious was Zeke’s incessant questions.
“Such a waste,” her sister Callie said with a sigh. She stood beside Liv, watching Zeke prowl with a look of female appreciation.
“I’m not biting.”
“You’re cruel to keep him from me.”
“Won’t you be around guys all day today?”
Callie made a face. “The guys at the bookstore are all so . . . sooo—”
“Serious? Smart?”
“Young.”
Liv thought about the men working at the bookshop. Besides the manager, who was in his mid-fifties, most of the men were in their early twenties. “When is college-aged old?”
“They’re infants compared to that one.” She nodded at Zeke.
“That one is trouble.”
“Even better.”
“Did you go to the women’s center today?”
Callie gave her a knowing look, but nodded. “I wanted to check in on Debbie and see how the twins are doing. She had a doctor’s appointment this morning.”
Liv’s blood boiled at the mere mention of the pregnant sixteen-year-old. For two years, the girl had been sexually abused by her stepbrother. No one, including her mom and stepdad, believed the good-looking, blond-haired, blue-eyed football star could be a predator.
Several weeks ago, she’d found the girl in Pritchard’s Park, huddled against the low stone wall that partially surrounded the tiny urban greenway, during a craving-induced walk for biscuits and blueberry jam. After coaxing Debbie’s story from her, Liv’s thirty-minute lunch break turned into several hours while she helped the pregnant teen get settled in at A New Beginning Center for Women. Liv volunteered for the center whenever she had a spare moment and her sister had followed suit soon after moving in.
“Thank you for checking in on them,” Liv said. “Did you happen to see Claudia Rogers?” Liv had first met Claudia about three months ago. She’d been covering the center’s reception desk when the older woman’s call had come in. It had taken some time, but she’d managed to talk Claudia into meeting her for lunch the next day.
Wary, she had refused to go to the center, but walked away with Liv’s business card, promising she would call if things got worse. They had a couple weeks ago, and Liv had managed to talk her into sheltering at the center, but for only one night.
Yesterday, Claudia had shown up at the center, bruised and battered, because her husband didn’t like the way she had ironed his work uniform.
“From a distance. I’m sorry, Liv, but I’m not sure she’s going to stay. She paced the whole time I was there.”
“I’m free tomorrow. I’ll stop in and check on her.”
A small body wedged between them. “Can Zeke stay for dinner?” Brodie asked, casting hopeful blue eyes her way.
Callie grinned.
So much for her attempt to redirect the conversation. Liv frowned at her son’s empty hands. Glancing over her shoulder, she located his tablet, sliding off a throw pillow and flopping onto the sofa.
When she turned back, Callie met her gaze, one dark eyebrow raised in surprise. “You gotta say yes now.”
“I’m sure Zeke has better things to do this evening.”
“Lame.”
“What’s better than spaghetti and meatballs?” Brodie asked.