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“I don’t. My torches and tools were properly stored in my shop. Your kid snooped. Like mother like son, it appears.”
Willow buried her face in her hands. “Is it Friday? I really wish it were Friday.”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Why do you want it to be Friday?”
“Martini Friday. It’s so much better than Taco Tuesday. I limit myself to one martini on Friday evenings, but I could really use a drink today. That boy is going to be the death of me.”
“So this isn’t the first time he’s wandered off?”
“Actually, it is. And honestly, it’s a victory of sorts for both of us. Drew has been a clingy child.”
The look Noah gave said he didn’t believe her.
“It’s true. I’m sure it was my fault. He was involved in a serious automobile accident a couple of years ago, and afterward, I hovered. I’m trying to reverse that habit. Just like I’m trying to encourage the curiosity he’s currently exhibiting. But I’m learning that a curious child is a parenting challenge. I’ve traded one problem for another.”
And she didn’t know why she was babbling on about this. And yet she couldn’t seem to stop. “It’s hard being a parent in today’s world. Danger comes at your children in every direction. A mother hen gets whiplash trying to watch out for her chicks, and she ends up with scrambled eggs for a brain.”
“So that’s your defense for snooping in my bathroom cabinets?”
“How did you… never mind. I’m trying not to be an overprotective helicopter mom. No snowplowing the road ahead of my children. It’s one of the reasons we’ve come here to Lake in the Clouds. I want Drew to learn independence and self-reliance, and I thought it was safer to do that in the mountains than on city streets. But then I give him permission to walk by himself to buy a candy bar at the lodge, and he ends up treading thin ice. It’s disheartening.”
“I imagine so.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “Nothing wrong with watching out for your kid, Willow. Stranger danger and all of that.”
Willow shrugged. “But how do I raise children who aren’t fearful? I want my children to be safe, but I also want them to be strong and bold and brave. I want my kids to be brave. I want to be brave. If I’m always harping about safety, how will they have the courage to take a risk? How do I balance the message? My great-grandmother was only sixteen when she immigrated to America all by herself. What courage that took! And my grandmother used to send her children outside to play in the morning, and she’d tell them not to come home before dark. Such independence that fostered. Maybe my mother is so strong because she wandered the neighborhoods when she was young. That’s what I want for my children, but it’d be irresponsible to do that in Nashville. Maybe it’s irresponsible here, too.”
“If that’s what you want, then walk the walk.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’ll learn more from what they see you doing than from what you tell them to do. You want ’em to be brave, then show them how brave you are.”
“That’s just it,” Willow said with a hint of a wail in her voice. “I’m not brave.”
“Sure you are. You just talked your way into a serial killer’s home to check for tortured cats.”
Her smile was slow in coming, but it dawned bright. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time. However, I didn’t say anything about cats. Though I guess I should make an excuse to check out your basement.”
“Be my guest.” He made a flourishing gesture toward a staircase. “I have a nice-sized attic, too. Been a while sinceanyone’s been either up or down, though. I live alone. Blessedly alone. Might want to take a broom with you to knock down the spiderwebs. Maybe some bug spray, too. Critter spray, just to be safe.”
She gave him a long look. “Are you looking for a cleaning lady, Mr. Tannehill?”
Maybe… just maybe… she saw the flicker of a genuine smile on his lips before he shrugged and said, “If the dust rag fits.”
He wasn’t a serial killer. He probably didn’t even have cobwebs in his attic. But after the past hour, Willow felt like she had bats in her belfry.
Finally confident her knees would once again support her, Willow rose from her seat on his sofa. “Another time, perhaps. I have a couple of appointments I’m late for already. Also, my mother and her sister are in the car with the children, and they’ll wonder what’s keeping me.”
“Brought along reinforcements, hmm?” he observed.
“I might be crazy, but I’m not stupid.”
“Won’t they be worried that you’ve been inside Jeffrey Dahmer’s lair for so long? Will they knock down my door and come after me with baseball bats?”
Willow smirked. “Have you met my aunt Helen? It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”
