Free Necessary Detour by Kim Hornsby

noise in the bushes ahead and stopped short. A hundred feet in front, was a young boy. From the looks of him he was probably nine or ten. He stood with his back to her, slashing the bushes with a long stick, oblivious.
    Pete Bayer was a father? The high voice from the other night must have been the child, not a girlfriend in a state of sexual pleasure. As she stood watching the boy slay imaginary dragons at the side of the house, thoughts raced through Nikki’s head, falling into her path like sparks from fireworks. Pete’s excuse for not helping her might have had something to do with the boy.
    She backed up a few steps. He couldn’t paddle out when there was a child to supervise. He had responsibilities as a father. This put a whole new slant on the situation.
    When the boy whirled around to thrust his sword, he caught sight of Nikki and froze, eyes wide.
    “Hi,” Nikki called, waving her fingers at him. He instantly dropped the stick, ran toward the house and disappeared inside, probably telling his father there was a lady with a basket, standing in their driveway. She waited motionless for so long that a chipmunk scooted past her on its way across the road. Still, no one came out to welcome her.
    Maybe the boy was alone? She spun around to see the truck was gone. Perhaps the boy was not allowed outside with his father off the property.
    When the curtains rustled at the window, she held her breath. He’d be alone in there. She didn’t want to frighten the kid any more than she already had. An eerie feeling warned her to walk away and she did, knowing she was being watched.
    ****
    Pete glanced at the top monitor like he did a hundred times a day and saw the back of Nikki walking down the road. She was crossing the bridge on her way home. He hadn’t heard a knock, but he’d just taken a one minute shower.
    He took a deep breath and watched the screen. Nikki disappeared out of camera range. Maybe she’d come over for that cup of coffee and thought no one was home. He’d hidden his truck in the garage. Good. He never should have introduced himself to her in the first place. Or kissed her. He thought she’d be gone by now.
    But there she was, walking down the road, swinging a basket, like Little Red Riding Hood. Probably coming over to snoop, maybe wondering why he hadn’t come out to help her yesterday. He’d tried, but no one answered the phone at the Louisa Lake Marina. He’d even phoned Sandy’s Bait Shop and left an anonymous message that someone was stranded in the north end. But he couldn’t leave the property even if he’d had a boat. Which he didn’t. He’d finally phoned the sheriff and the old guy chuckled and said he’d send someone out in the police boat. Pete seriously doubted there was a police boat. He felt bad—she’d had to bring the boat in herself—but he couldn’t let himself get wrapped up in a neighbor’s problems.
    When he’d agreed to renting this house, the owner said the neighbor wouldn’t be there. “She comes one to two weeks a year, always in the summer.” But here she was, for God knows how long. Aside from the obvious perk of seeing Goldy in a bikini on a daily basis, living next door had drawbacks, especially when he had a crush about as big as the lake. Something in her eyes told Pete that she might be feeling it too. He knew attraction when he saw it. He’d spent his life reading people. On the few occasions he’d spoken to Nikki, she seemed to be trying too hard, almost nervous to be around him. He had to walk away from this. This plan was already fucked in so many ways. He hoped it would all be over before she saw he had a wife at the house.
    ****
    With a blank sheet of watercolor paper in front of her, Nikki stared at Birch House from her easel at the end of the dock. Finally she had the time to do something as normal as paint a picture. Assuming she had enough talent to do this, she mixed a color for the morning sky and put brush to paper.
    The sweet high