“You’re right. That’s your problem.”
“I suppose the roof will fall in if we don’t get that fixed,” Annie said, giving him a crooked smile.
“Could happen. It looks like carpenter ants. They love damp wood.” Andrew dragged a chair to the spot and raised himself to get a closer look.
The phone’s ring chimed from inside, and Annie grasped the door handle. “You can tell me what needs to be done when you finish.” She opened the door and hurried to answer.
Andrew stepped down from the chair and scooted it back against the wall. He made some notations on a pad, then stepped into the yard and focused on the porch roof, then the flooring. When he finished, he sat on the top step and leaned against the porch column, his body turned to face her.
“I’m glad to see you’re still here,” he said, flipping closed the notepad and tucking it into his jacket pocket.
“I’m not. It’s hard on JJ. And me.”
“But you’re safe.” Andrew’s eyes grew distant, and he turned, gazing at her son playing in the yard. “You can’t take chances.”
“I know,” Hannah said. She hadn’t wanted to takechances and that’s why she’d divorced Jack. Her gaze shifted to Andrew’s handsome profile, wondering if he truly understood. He’d never known a difficult life, she guessed, so why try to explain it all to him?
Andrew rose and brushed dirt from his jeans, then wandered into the yard. She watched him amble toward JJ and crouch to talk to him. Their voices didn’t reach her, but JJ nodded and chattered with him like an old friend.
Andrew tousled JJ’s hair, and when the child showed him a ball, Andrew moved back and pitched a few to him. His gentle way touched Hannah’s heart, yet surprised her.
JJ had never connected with a man in his life. Jack wasn’t around and hadn’t given him much attention, except when JJ whined. Then Jack’s voice raised the hair on her arms and caused JJ to cry. If Jack had lifted a hand, Hannah would have divorced him sooner.
Divorce. The word pelted her with guilt. Despite her spiritual lapse, her mother had raised her to believe marriage was for better or worse, and she’d planned to make it work. But Jack had sickened her when he flaunted his adultery in her face. That day she’d made her decision. God did not expect her to accept Jack’s abuse and adultery.
Andrew’s focus drifted to Hannah. Though their conversation today had seemed stilted, she continued to intrigue him, but he forced his focus back to JJ. The boy had missed the ball again but scurried after it to try one more time. The child had determination, just like his mother.
While JJ scampered to retrieve the ball, Andrew’s sympathy arose, thinking of the life the child had livedand things he’d probably heard and seen. He recalled the statistics in the book he’d borrowed from the library. The facts sickened him, and he’d had to control himself from spitting out the horrifying figures to Hannah as they had talked.
One sentence rang in his mind—children from violent homes engage in more risk-taking behavior and may become violent adults. The thought wrenched his heart. Children were the innocent victims of family problems.
“Keep practicing,” Andrew said, as he gave the ball a final toss before heading back to the porch. He saw Hannah’s smile and felt a grin grow on his face. “He’s trying. He’ll get it.”
“He’s had no one to teach him.”
Her comment drew his attention to the fading bruise on her cheek, then to her mouth. The cut had disappeared and in its place, Andrew now admired her well-shaped mouth and upturned lips. His pulse heightened until he pulled away his gaze.
“What are you going to do?” Andrew asked, lowering himself to the top step and leaning against the support.
“Change my door locks. Take a new job. Be more careful. I don’t know what else.”
He sat closer to her this time, and her sweet floral scent permeated the air. He savored the fragrance
Learning to Kill: Stories