Page 10 of Her Wicker Guardian

The laugh that comes out of me is uneven, but it comes. The tightness in my throat slowly gives up some ground.

My phone buzzes on the table. The screen lights with the contact name I changed months ago. DO NOT ANSWER.

Three sets of eyes do not turn toward it. I notice that.

I leave the phone facedown.

Another buzz comes a minute later. This time it’s Janet.

Found them. Leaving now. Sorry.

I read it aloud, and Blair shakes her head. “She apologized for being late because a box of test strips went rogue.”

“That’s Janet,” Shannon says.

We all nod.

By the time headlights briefly brighten the trees at the front edge of the property, we’ve wisely decided to leave the bear alone until Janet gets here.

“I’m sorry!” Janet calls from the drive before she rounds the cottage.

“You already apologized,” Shannon calls back.

Janet appears with an overstuffed tote hanging from one shoulder, another bag in her hand, and wavy brown hair that looks as though it started the day with better intentions.

“Mom’s fine,” she says immediately. “Her sugar came back up. The test strips were in the bathroom cabinet under the towels.”

Laura points toward an empty chair. “Sit.”

“I brought wine.”

“Sit.”

Janet laughs and drops into the chair. She checks the vegetable tray, checks the dump cake, and reaches straight for the cake.

“I’ve spent forty minutes dealing with blood sugar,” she says. “I’m eating cake.”

Shannon points toward the bear. “Please tell me you brought zip ties.”

Janet pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Which size?”

Blair and I catch each other’s gaze.

Janet reaches into the tote and pulls out two packages.

“Naturally,” Blair says.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m comforted by your consistency.”

Janet finally studies the bear.

“Oh.”

“Don’t start,” I tell her.

“His left side is still too high. And his ear.”