Page 49 of The Woman Left Behind

“Out on a date, she should be home anytime now. Come on, let’s sit down for a minute and let me look at you. It feels like forever since you’ve been home!”

Before Jina could sit down, her dad ruffled her hair and pulled her in for a quick kiss on her forehead. “Glad you’re here, pumpkin,” he rumbled, his voice raspy like hers. Rather, hers was raspy like his.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t make it,” she replied and tried unsuccessfully to stifle a huge yawn. Her eyelids felt as if they each weighed ten pounds. She dropped into one of the armchairs. “Monday I had to fly to Paris on a last-minute deal, and I had no idea if I’d get finished in time to come home. I made it, but I got back to D.C. this morning with a huge case of jet lag.”

“Paris!” Her mother’s eyes got big. “I’d love to see Paris!”

“I might, too,” Jina grumbled. “But all I saw was what was on the way from the airport, then looking out a single window while I worked.” She yawned again. “Maybe someday.”

Her mom, Melissa, was a pretty blond woman with an hourglass figure, which Jina’s two sisters had inherited and she hadn’t. She wore pajamas and a robe, her face scrubbed clean of any makeup she might have worn during the day, but even without makeup she still looked darn good. Jina hoped she aged half as well as her mom had done.

She pulled off her jacket and her mom immediately gave her a piercing look. “What’s going on? You’re so thin!”

“What?” Jina looked down at herself, trying to marshal her tired mind. Oh, yeah, the working out. “I told you I’d been working out like crazy. My brain is so tired at the end of the day, running helps me relax. I don’t have to think about anything when I’m running.” None of what she’d said was a lie, which was good considering her exhaustion.

“Well, I’ll get some food in you while you’re here.” From the grim note in her mother’s voice, anyone would have thought Jina had been forcibly starved.

“The thought of your German chocolate cake pushed me the whole time I was in Paris,” she said truthfully. “Is it made already?” She wouldn’t mind having cake and milk before going to bed.

“No, I’m so sorry, I was going to make it tomorrow. Today,” Melissa corrected, because it was after midnight.

Jina yawned again. “That’s okay. Y’all, I’m falling over I’m so tired. Is it okay if I just go to bed?”

“Of course it is! Your bed is made and ready. Go on to bed and we’ll see you in the morning.”

That was the most excellent thing she’d heard all day. Escaping to the room her older sister, Ashley, had once occupied in glorious solitude while Jina shared with Caleigh, but which had become Jina’s alone when Ashley moved out, she heaved a sigh of relief. A quick shower, a ginger application of Aquaphor ointment to her tattoo, which was damn hard to reach where it was, then she tumbled into bed in panties and tee shirt and went right to sleep, soothed by the familiarity of her surroundings. She was home!

Home or not, the habit of months was a hard thing to break, even when jet lag was thrown into the equation. Before dawn Jina was pulling on sweats and lacing up her trainers, because she had to keep up her training, and doing so before the holiday got into gear was the best time. After some stretches, she let herself out the front door and trotted down the driveway, hit the secondary road, and turned to the left. A couple of miles down a small road to the right would loop around and cut back into the secondary road, bringing her right back here. She estimated the entire distance at around eight miles, which was a nice run. There was just enough light to see.

She had reconnected to the secondary road, with a mile or so left before reaching home, when she heard footsteps pounding behind her. Alarm skittered along her nerves, and she threw a quick look over her shoulder even as she picked up the pace. Just because she was home didn’t mean there was no danger. But she recognized Taz, dressed much as she was, and slowed until he came abreast of her before picking up her speed and running side by side with him.

“You’re up early,” he said, his breath just a little short though his face was shiny with sweat.

“So are you. Best time to get in a run.”

“What the hell’s going on?”

Startled, she said, “What?,” and threw him a frowning glance. It still shook her some to see her little brother looking so military, with his high and tight haircut, erect posture, and confident way of talking. Taz had been a little shy when he was younger—not with the family, but in school—so the confidence was good. He was also in really good shape.

“You were hauling your suitcase around last night as if it was mostly empty, and I know the damn thing had to weigh fifty pounds. How long are you planning to stay, a month?”

“Just until Sunday. And it was forty-two pounds.”

“You were picking it up with one hand.”

She didn’t pause in her stride, just popped a biceps for him. “Feel,” she said proudly.

He obligingly squeezed her muscle. “Nice. What are you doing?”

“You know. Running, lifting some weights. The usual stuff.”

“Bullshit.”

Like a sister, she rolled her eyes. “What does it look like I’m doing right now? Sleeping late?”

“That’s what’s wrong. You’ve never been into exercising. And I’ve seen gym rats; you’re not in gym rat shape, you’re in something-else-entirely kind of shape.” Taz had always been observant. “What are youreallydoing in this new job of yours that keeps you tied up for months?”

“It’s computer stuff, just like I said. Software applications and training.” That was the absolute truth, and the annoyed tone was just right. “The running and lifting weights is because I was spending so much time in front of a computer I was turning into a lump. I also took a couple of martial-arts classes. There’s a lot of crime in the D.C. area, in case you didn’t realize.”

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