“Why are you talking to people at work?”

Mom looked unhappy. “That’s what I say.”

“Dad, just stay off the phone. And Wendy’s got her hands full. Let’s just leave her alone until she has the situation in—” I hesitated just a fraction of a second, trying to remember where we were pretending my sister was ministering to her college friend “—California.”

“Tell her what I said.”

“In the meantime, I had some excitement this morning, and since I’m sitting right here telling you, remember there was a happy ending.” I recounted the attempted break-in with a few small changes. One, the guy had been trying to break in when he saw me coming up the walk and fled. Two—and related—I neglected to mention the wrestling match.

“The sheriff’s department came out to take my statement,” I said, wrapping up. “The guy couldn’t get in, thanks to you sending Handyman Dave to secure all the locks. The deputy thinks there won’t be any more trouble now that the guy, and whoever he’s working with, know the house is occupied.” I smiled as if I’d just delivered the best of all news.

My mother was the first to speak. “Thank heavens that didn’t happen when Wendy and the girls were there.”

For a moment I wondered if I’d heard her right. My father covered up nicely. “Ryan, you’re really okay? That must have scared the bejeepers out of you.”

My father is the only person I know who can use “bejeepers” in a sentence and get away with it. “Thank you,” I said. “It wasn’t the best moment of my life.” I didn’t look at my mother.

“I only meant that...” Her voice drifted away, and I thought she was finished. But I was wrong. “I’m sorry. You’re tougher than your sister,” she said at last. “Wendy takes everything to heart. And those little girls. I’m so glad they weren’t with you.”

“Tougher?” I wondered what she would say if I explained that her “sensitive” older daughter had abandoned her former life because she might be a murder suspect.

“Arlie, Wendy is as tough as nails,” my father said. “Something you fail to notice. Under the sugarcoated exterior is a steel rod. And we’re talking about Ryan now.”

He turned to me, done chastising my mother, an event so rare I still wasn’t sure I’d witnessed it. “I think you should move back home,” he told me.

“I don’t think I need to.” I patted his hand. “People are already beginning to filter back to Tropicana for the winter, and the town house is as secure as a fortress. I’ll use the security alarm, but I think the deputy’s right. Nobody’s going to break in again. And to be sure, I’ll park my car in the driveway for a while so everybody can see somebody’s living there.”

“You have two young children to worry about,” my mother said.

“Something I have not failed to notice.” I breathed deeply and controlled the edge in my voice. “And that’s exactly why I am going to stay where I am. They’re just getting used to me, and they’re in a familiar environment at the town house, which helps them adjust. The school’s an easy walk, and we can have their friends for playdates.” I’d just made up that last part, but it was inspired, and I made a mental note to do exactly that.