It was only a couple of weeks after we’d returned from our Thanksgiving visit and I was spending my lunch hour daydreaming about our trip to the mountains. I could’ve tried to finish my Christmas shopping, but I wouldn’t have been able to make it to my favorite mall and back in an hour. I took a bite of my sandwich and browsed through the pictures on my phone. I came to one that had me almost spitting out my food. I laughed out loud at the picture of my little sister trying to hold Abby on one hip, while a tote bag that contained Ruthie’s favorite baby doll and a karate trophy dangled from her shoulder. Four-and-a-half-year-old Ruthie, the quintessential badass girlie girl, had no business trying to carry around three-year-old Abby, but she’d tried to for almost our entire visit. It was comical to watch her as she attempted to play nursemaid to her new niece.

Christian and Abby had blended so seamlessly into my family during our short visit, I secretly wondered if it would ever be possible to live near them. I absentmindedly touched my stomach and remembered the heartfelt offer my cousin Rachelle had made to Christian and me.

“Travis and I have talked about this, and we’re both in agreement. If you ever think you want to have a baby, I’d consider it a privilege to be your surrogate. I have easy pregnancies, and I’d make sure you were part of everything. It would be an honor carrying your child for you.”

I’d cried in Christian’s arms that night, not only because I’d been so moved by Rachelle’s offer, but because it brought back a memory from our childhood, and something Christian had said to me on a hot Florida playground almost twenty years earlier.

I was able to shake off the melancholy feeling that memory evoked and thoroughly enjoyed the time we had with my family, and before we knew it we were driving back to Florida.

I sighed when I considered how in recent months Abby seemed to blossom and had turned into a real chatterbox. Just two days ago, and for the first time ever, she’d cried when Christian took her back to her grandparents. She’d wanted to stay with her daddy. My heart melted when he told me about it. I was beginning to think that maybe it was time to have another custody discussion with Christian’s parents and an attorney. I still hadn’t crossed paths with Autumn in months, and had even forgotten to ask Aunt Christy about her. But she’d stopped harassing me, leading me to believe that maybe she’d finally moved on.

I reached for a piece of celery and crunched on it as I thought about how the past two weeks had gone by in a blur. Between Christmas shopping and temporarily working full-time, I’d barely had a minute to think.

Which was how I surprised even myself when I accepted a lunch invitation from Blue. He’d called my cell about ten o’clock my first morning back to work after the holiday and apologized for the last-minute invitation. I was so caught off guard I couldn’t even think of an excuse not to, so I agreed. His restaurant, Razors, was just a few short blocks from where I worked, so I could easily make it there and back on my lunch break.

The hostess led me toward a table tucked away in a cozy corner. I followed her, my eyes scanning the room as I tried to imagine what it looked like when it was a biker bar back when my father owned it. I couldn’t conjure up an image. The professional-looking men and women having power lunches over mineral water and California veggie plates were in total contrast to scary-looking bikers who were waited on by topless women.

The lunch had been pleasant enough, even with the sidelong glances I noticed coming from Debbie. I hadn’t spoken to her in ages, and I wondered if she was worried that I might mention to Blue how she’d cut me out of her life. Not that she had anything to worry about. Blue wouldn’t care one way or another.

“Your aunt Jodi hates me,” Blue told me.

I’d just taken a sip of water and carefully measured my words. “She hates all bikers.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m crazy about her, and it’s probably because she hates me. I seem to have developed an affinity for women who despise me.”

His comment was so random and sincere I couldn’t suppress a giggle.

“I hope you’re not going to ask me for relationship advice,” I told him honestly. “Aunt Jodi is an enigma.”

“She haunts me, Mimi. And don’t think it’s not fucking weird that I see myself fantasizing about Ginny’s identical twin. The dyed blond hair and blue contact lenses can’t hide that she is the spitting image of your mother. Grizz would be doing somersaults in his grave if he knew I lusted over someone who looks exactly like his woman.”

And you’d be doing somersaults out of your chair if you knew Grizz was alive, which is probably one of the main reasons my aunt Jodi has been pushing you away.

We continued to make small talk and it wasn’t contrived or forced. I hadn’t really known Blue while I was growing up, but the few times I’d had an occasion to see him, he was always kind to me. I asked about his sons, Timmy and Kevin. My half brother, Jason, and Blue’s youngest son, Kevin, were actually half brothers. Although I don’t think either of them knew it or if they did, it wasn’t something either felt they should pursue.

“Kevin is in the military and barely speaks to me,” Blue told me. “Not that we’ve had a falling out,” he quickly corrected. “He’s just one of those kids that doesn’t stay in touch. When we do speak, we’re good.”

“And Timmy?” I politely asked.

“Timmy is married to a lovely girl and has two boys.” I detected sadness in his expression. “They’re in Orlando and I see them as often as I can.” His demeanor changed and he immediately perked up. Perhaps I’d misread the sadness as nothing more than missing his family.

We were interrupted by Debbie who said, “I’m sorry to intrude. Mimi, I meant to say hello when I saw you but this place gets crazy during lunch.”

I smiled and told her I understood. She turned to Blue and said, “You have a phone call in the office. It’s a realtor and she’s pretty excited. She thinks she has a buyer for Razors.”

“Tell her I’ll call her back,” Blue replied without even looking at Debbie.

She told me it was nice seeing me, excused herself, and strode toward the office.

“You’re selling your restaurant?” I asked. Maybe the rumors about Blue stepping down from the club had been true. He answered my unspoken thought. “I want to be closer to Timmy and his family. I’m not getting any younger, and let’s face it, it’s closer to Louisiana too.”

Closer to Aunt Jodi.

His eyes grew serious and he leaned across the table. “Mimi, there’s something I have to say to you. It’s something I should’ve said to your mother years ago before she moved away.” He tugged on his beard. “Something I hope you’ll tell her and Jason for me.” He cleared his throat before adding, “Something I hope you’ll forgive me for.”

I sat up straighter. “Of course. What is it?”

“It’s my fault Tommy was murdered.”

I didn’t know what to say so I stared, not understanding.

“I’m the one that called him that morning.”

“The call the police couldn’t trace? They thought maybe it was from one of the kids from the shelter where he volunteered.”

Shaking his head he said, “No. It was me. I’d heard something unsettling on the street that concerned you and a boy you were dating.”

“Nick Rosman,” I interrupted.

Nodding he said, “Yeah, him. I’d heard what he’d tried to do to you, and I thought Tommy should know. I’m the reason he deviated from his normal route on the way to work.”

I tried to blink back the tears as the pain of Tommy’s death slammed into my chest. After swallowing my grief I reached for Blue’s hand across the table. “It’s not your fault. You aren’t responsible. The man who shot him is responsible.”

“It is my fault. I should’ve handled that piece of shit, but I didn’t. Instead, I settled on giving Tommy a courtesy call. If he’d asked me to do something, I would have. But the fault is mine. I shouldn’t have had to ask him. I should’ve just done it. I’m sorry, Mimi. Please tell your mother and brother for me.” A moment passed and he added, “Ummm…does she know about Nick? What Christian did and why he did it?”

I could only nod.

“Christian did what I should’ve done.” He shook his head slowly as a thought came to him. “Your husband is like a different man now. He’s changed so much from when he used to hang with the club before he went to prison. He’s calmer, more focused. You’ve been good for him, Mimi.”

I sniffled and said, “We’re good for each other.”

Lunch with Blue was last week, and after reassuring him that he didn’t need to apologize for something he hadn’t done, I had strolled back to the museum, enjoying my walk along the tree-lined streets. I remembered having the distinct impression I was being watched, and not for the first time, but I shook it off. Seeing Debbie, reliving Tommy’s death, had made me feel vulnerable. Everything is perfect now, I told myself. Things are finally going my way.

My cell phone rang, pulling me from the memories of our holiday visit and the lunch with Blue. I’d been so startled I banged my knee on the desk while jumping up to retrieve it from my purse.

It was Christian telling me that he would be working late again. In the couple of weeks since we’d returned from the mountains, Christian had been racking up a lot of overtime at the garage. I guess he’d forgotten that it was Wednesday night and I would be going to girls’ night out at Susan’s.

“I figured,” I told him. “It’s Wednesday night. Tell Glen I said hey.”

“I guess all this overtime is making me lose track of time,” he confessed. “I’ll see you tonight, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I replied.

The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully and it was finally time to lock up the museum. Employees parked out back, but I still used the front entrance because the back door key was fickle. Some days it worked and some days it didn’t. It was easier to leave through the front, and walk around the side.

After making sure everything was turned off and the museum was secure, I locked the front door and stood on the wide veranda observing the one-way street. The majority of homes were still occupied residences, and the adherences to bylaws concerning their exteriors added to the ambience and cozy feel of the neighborhood. The hair on my arms stood up and the same feeling I’d had last week of being watched returned. I shivered in spite of the unseasonably warm December air, and quickly walked down the steps, around the side of the museum and directly for my car. I spotted it immediately and with a heavy heart removed the paper from beneath my windshield wiper. What was scrawled on it hurt almost as much as thinking Christian had been cheating on me.

BARREN BITCH!!!

Autumn had struck again. I’d been so hopeful that she’d finally given up and was going to let me live in peace that I hadn’t thought about her in weeks. When she’d started missing some of her weekends with Abby, I hadn’t concerned myself with the woman who didn’t concern herself with her own daughter. I hadn’t asked Aunty Christy so I didn’t know, but could only assume that Autumn’s new beau hadn’t worked out so she once again turned her wrath and jealousy toward me.

I crumpled the note and tossed it on the seat next to me as I started the car. I was getting ready to back out when I froze. What my eyes landed on brought an immediate wave of adrenaline that felt like fear, but quickly transformed into a rush of anger so intense I could hear my heartbeat as it pounded in my ears.

Hanging from my rearview mirror was one of Abby’s hair ribbons. And dangling from the end of it was the missing white queen from our chess set. Autumn had used blood red nail polish to paint most of it red. The only white part that wasn’t covered had four letters written in thin red marker—my name. Mimi.

So that’s where the missing piece went. Abby must’ve somehow smuggled it out of the house after one of her visits, and Autumn found it during one of her rare weekends with her daughter. The queen dangling by its neck at the end of a rope indicated that Autumn had decided to step up her game. How dare she threaten me, and use precious Abby’s hair ribbon and her love of our chess pieces to do it! I was furious.

I threw the car into reverse and jammed on the brake before almost taking out a decorative lamp post. I shifted into drive, and blasted out of the parking lot so recklessly, I didn’t realize until I almost had a head-on collision that I’d turned the wrong way down the one-way street. After mouthing my apology to the other driver, I kept going the wrong way until I was finally able to make a turn onto a two-way street.

I was done tiptoeing around Autumn and her hatefulness. I was finished with turning the other cheek. It was time to confront her, and let her know this crap had to stop. And if I had to get Christian involved to make sure it did, then so be it. I knew where she worked so I would go there first. I hope you know how to defend yourself, Autumn, because my blood won’t stop boiling until I’ve splattered some of yours.