Broken Things (Faded Photograph Series) Read Free Page B

accompanied her host around the white, aluminum-sided, two-story house, where a large golden retriever greeted her.
    “This is Buddy,” Steve informed her.
    Allie patted the friendly dog’s head.
    “And this is my better half...Nora.”
    An attractively plump woman with sandy-brown, chin-length hair stepped off the wooden deck. “Nice to meet you.” Nora held out her right hand in greeting. “Steve has been telling me about you.”
    Taking the proffered hand, Allie blushed. She couldn’t help speculating as to how Steve would describe the Allie Littenberg of thirty years ago. Make that Allie Drake. Adventurous? Rebellious? Bold as brass? Selfish?
    “Nice to meet you too,” she finally managed to reply.
    Turning, Nora pointed to the padded lawn furniture behind her. “Let’s go sit on the deck and get acquainted while my darling husband barbeques our dinner.”
    “As you can see, Allie, I’m nothing but a slave in this household.”
    She chuckled at Steve’s quip as Nora opened the patio door.
    “Ricky,” she called into the house, “bring our guest one of those blended fruit drinks I made.”
    “My son is a slave, too,” Steve grumbled in jest, donning a brightly striped chef’s apron.
    Nora rolled her blue-green eyes at her husband and smiled at Allie. Then she looked back at Steve. “Did Jack ever return your call?”
    “Nope.”
    Watching the couple, Allie sensed undefined emotions passing between them when Jack’s name came up. Anger? Disappointment? Relief? She could only guess.
    “Well, maybe it’s for the best.” Nora sat down in one of the patio chairs. She wore a comfortable-looking denim dress and as she crossed her tanned legs, she smoothed the skirt over her knees.
    “I got a hold of Logan, though. He said he’d stop over.”
    “Logan?” The wind left Allie’s lungs.
    “Jack’s son.”
    “Yes, I thought perhaps that’s who it might be...” She felt torn between indignation and amusement. Logan was their name―hers and Jack’s. Once when he had been talking about marriage, she mentioned how fond she was of the name Logan. Jack promised that their firstborn son would bear the name.
    However, the entire discussion had scared Allie senseless. At that point in her life, commitments and children sounded like a prison sentence. Nevertheless, she’d always been partial to the name. In fact, she might have been tempted to call her own son Logan if Erich hadn’t insisted upon naming him after his father, Nicholas.
    “Do you have any children?” Nora wanted to know.
    “Yes. One son. Nick. He’s twenty-five and recently married.”
    “Logan is twenty-eight. He’s a great kid.” Steve piped in from where he stood in front of the grill.
    “Logan’s hardly a kid,” Nora countered. “He’s the youth pastor at our church in Schaumburg. He’s got a special girl, but no wedding date set yet.”
    Allie arched an eyebrow. “Imagine that. My son is in the ministry too.” An amazing coincidence...but was it? As a Christian, she didn’t believe in coincidence.
    An odd expression suddenly crossed Steve’s countenance―one Allie wouldn’t even try to discern. Then he excused himself and he disappeared into the house, saying he had to fetch the hamburgers in the fridge.
    * * *
    With his jaw clenched in a mix of irritation and worry, Jack Callahan marched up his younger brother’s driveway. Why had Steve called the station? He never called him at work unless it was an emergency. Was it Logan? Was he hurt? In trouble? He took a second to mull it over. Naw, Logan wouldn’t be in trouble. Rounding the corner of the house, a cloud of smoke from the grill assaulted him.
    “Jack!”
    Squinting through the gray haze, he spotted Steve and waved the smoke away with his hand. “Why’d you phone the cops? You should have called the fire department instead.”
    Steve laughed at the barb, like he always did. “You know me, Jack. I like my burgers well done.”
    Whatever . “So why did you