later, Todd. I have to go.”
Closing her window, she continued backing up although this time without looking and prayed no one was coming down the street. As she sped off, Summer glanced in the mirror and saw Todd watching as she drove away.
Summer loved seeing her brother talking with boyish enthusiasm over something as mundane as garage storage and the efficiency of overhead racks. She wondered if it was his military experience that made him so keen to have an orderly space for everything.
She chomped on the inside of her cheek to stop from either laughing or rolling her eyes when he pulled out his cell phone to show her a schematic for the overhead system.
“So all the stuff in the short part of the L configuration are outside decorations. Each bin is labeled by season.”
He pointed at the long rack running the length of the garage.
“And here we have all of Dad’s stuff—what’s left. Next to that are boxes of paperwork.”
Listening to Reed yammer about things she didn’t care about was proof she loved her brother despite his annoying traits. His habit of coloring inside the lines no matter what drove her nuts, but who was she to judge?
Perched on Summer’s shoulder, Ari watched Uncle Reed with typical infant curiosity.
“What’s in the floor units?” she asked.
Two tall heavyweight plastic cabinets sat side by side. One had doors and the other looked like stacked lockers.
Reed chuckled. “Car gear for when the detailing mood strikes. Some random camping equipment. Whatever I dragged home from Iraq. You know. Stuff and shit.”
“You’re the only person I know who organizes his junk.”
“Hey,” he playfully grumbled. “Be nice. It’s stuff and shit—not junk.”
“As if that makes sense,” she teased.
“Shut up.”
Ari cooed and gave her uncle a drooling smile.
“See? She agrees.”
They shared a loving moment, and then she sensed a shift. If she read the tea leaves correctly, Reed had something on his mind.
Decisions, decisions. If she came right out and asked, he’d probably clam up, but waiting for him to take his shot could take forever.
Men. Sheesh.
“Let’s go inside,” he muttered abruptly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Her relief at not having to dance around or try to cajole information out of him was tempered by his serious tone.
They sat on the area carpet in his family room with Ari on a play mat between them. Her daughter preferred being held to tummy time, and like a good mommy, she ignored her daughter’s diva antics and kept up the recommended activity.
“She doesn’t know what we’re saying, Reed, so spit it out.”
Summer wished there was a scorecard for rating sighs. As it was, she decided her brother’s long exhale charted at abrasive with a side of venom. Oh, shit. Not good.
“Dad was a believer in the fast rip when it was time to take off a Band-Aid, so I’m going to follow the old man’s lead and just lay it out.”
“Laying it out does not require a preface. You sound like an instructor.”
“Just trying to soften the fastball hurling in your direction.”
“Reed, come on,” she bitched. “Stop trying to manage me.”
He grimaced. “Here goes.”
She raised her brows and waited.
“Mom surfaced.”
Summer blinked. “What?”
“Yeah, I know, right?” He lifted a shoulder like he didn’t care, but she knew better. Reed was older when their mother left. His memories were harsher than hers and fiercely bitter.
“When you say surfaced, what does that mean?” she asked, stammering with shock.
“Christmas card.”
Summer knew a pregnant pause when one popped up. She scowled. “And?”
“A note expressing interest in talking to you.”
She jolted at this announcement. “Me? Why? She’s never taken any interest before. Not in more than twenty years. Why now?”
He looked at Arianne, and Summer went batshit.
“No!” she barked. “No, no, no. There’s no way she knows.”
In a surprisingly gentle tone, Reed said, “Didn’t you tell me the obnoxious cunt who offered money for your baby mentioned Mom, right?”
Rising to her feet, she wrung her hands and began to pace. “Oh my god, oh my god. It’s happening, isn’t it?”
“There’s more.”
Summer stumbled when her feet stopped moving while her body was in motion. “How could there possibly be more?” She snarled and threw her hands up.
“In my experience, there’s always more.”
An explosion of pent-up anxiety and fresh fear made her want to run away as fast as she could and hide. Her eyes went to the baby. Running wasn’t the answer. She wasn’t a coward, and she’d never been a wimp before, so why start now?
“Give it to me.” She crossed