Page 28 of Tactical Revival

“Afternoon, Mrs. Redding.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Kyra?”

Chuckling, I nod. “Fair enough. How are you doing, Kyra?”

“Fantastic. Got to spend the morning with my granddaughter, and it was lovely. How about you?” The woman is a literal walking beam of sunshine. It’s impossible to not feel at peace in her presence. Which is probably why she made such a good therapist in her pre-bakery days.

“I can’t complain.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” She grins at me. “What can I get you?”

“Any chance you know what Margot’s favorite pie is? I promised to pick up dessert, and I have no idea what to go with.” I scan the case before me, looking from the apple to a blueberry.

“Lemon meringue,” Lanetti says.

I turn toward her, noting that she’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Really?”

She nods. “It was always her favorite when I was babysitting Matty. My mom used to send me with one for her occasionally.”

“Great. Thank you so much.”

“Sure,” she replies. “I’m actually going to be right back, that reminds me that I need to see if my parents want anything. See you later, Kyra.” She leaves quickly, and I stare after her, knowing that it was me who upset her and hating that I did, even as I know I haven’t done anything to mislead her.

I turn to Kyra. “A lemon meringue, then, please.”

“You got it.”

“That’s when Mom fell off the pier,” Matty says with a bright smile.

Margot’s cheeks are bright red, her smile stretched as wide as I’ve ever seen it. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“But it was,” Matty replies. “Because you didn’t reel in the line like you were supposed to.”

“I’m with Matty on this,” I reply. “You should have reeled it in.”

Her gaze locks with mine, and something passes between us. What? I’m not sure. But my blood warms, and I catch myself gripping my knees beneath the table.

“I told you, Mom,” Matty says as he stands and starts gathering plates.

“Honey, I’ll get that,” she insists, and starts to stand up.

“You will not. You cooked.” He kisses her on the top of her head, then carries the stack of plates into the kitchen, leaving us sitting at the dining room table.

“He’s been in a great mood today,” Margot tells me. “Every day that passes, I see a bit more of the boy he was before Chad left.” She stares at the door he’d just walked through, a soft smile on her face.

“He’s a great kid,” I tell her. “You should be proud.”

“It’s all God,” she replies, turning back to me. “I can’t take any credit.”

“You can,” I tell her. “Because He chose you to be Matty’s mother knowing the type of man you would help him grow into.”

Her eyes fill, but she quickly blinks the tears away.

Matty comes back in. “Dishwasher is loaded, pie leftovers are in the fridge, and I have homework to do. Thanks for an awesome game of chess,” he tells me. “I look forward to beating you again soon.”

I laugh and shake his offered hand. “I’m going to practice.”

“Good. Because I’d like it to at least be somewhat of a challenge next time.” Matty leans down and hugs his mom. “Love you, Mom.”

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