Laura was about to go see if her mother needed help, but she came shuffling in with her walker. Laura hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she could tell her mother was getting around better. Since the accident, Frankie had waited on her hand and foot—probably out of guilt. She used the wheelchair far more than the walker that first year. Now, she seemed to be getting some of her strength back, although she still had balance issues.

Carla noticed too. “That’s as fast as I’ve seen you move in years. What gives?”

“Well, I’ve had to use this dang thing more. Laura Sue refuses to let me have my chair.”

Carla turned to her. “Hiding the wheelchair, are you?”

“She’s exaggerating. She uses it in the evenings to chase me around the house. My only escape is running up the stairs.”

Laura noted the smile on her mother’s face and she returned it. Yes, they had been getting along famously, which was scary. It was almost as if the last seven years hadn’t happened. And really, she wished that could be so. That was seven years they would never get back. It was her fault, she knew. She was the one who stayed away. She was the one who wanted to strangle the very breath out of Frankie whenever she laid eyes on him. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she never gave him a chance.

“Mom, I noticed that Laura has the yard looking nice,” Carla said. “It’ll be good to see flowers out once again.”

“In the last seven years, you’ve been here three or four times. I’m fairly certain you don’t remember what my flowerbeds looked like.”

“Well, that’s three or four times more than Laura was here. That should count for something.”

“Hey, don’t pull me into this.” She opened up one of the boxes of pizza and offered it to them. “Mom, you want tea?”

“Yes, please.” Her mother patted Carla’s hand. “Laura Sue is such a good daughter.”

Carla’s eyes widened. “Oh my God! I knew it! You’ve been body snatched!”

Laura laughed. Oh, yeah. She and her mother were getting along great. They had always been close, but after Frankie…she was afraid they wouldn’t be able to get it back.

“So did you know somebody moved in next door? Mom said December. Weekends only.”

“I knew someone was building. Have you met them?”

“No.” Then she smiled. “Not officially.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means she spied on them last weekend. There was a party. Girls in bikinis,” her mother explained.

“With binoculars,” Laura added with a grin. “Frankie’s. Found them in his junk closet. And I do mean junk.”

Carla bit into her pizza, then talked with her mouth full. “What kind of spying?”

“From my writing room. Perfect view of the pool and outdoor kitchen from the window.”