Free The Thirteen by Susie Moloney

was an oddly elegant gesture. She winked again at Rowan. Taking a couple of steps closer to the house, she made a pretty show of picking out a tiny stone from her palm, lined up and tossed it at the door. It hit the window with a glassy ping . She giggled like a kid, and for a second Rowan warmed to her.
    There was no response from inside.
    Her mother’s best friend shook her head and picked out another pebble. She tossed it as expertly as the first. It too hit the window. Louder this time.
    Rowan started to say, “I’ll just get—”
    And then the door pushed open and her mother came out in her T-shirt and scruffy jeans, her face screwed into an annoyed frown.
    “Rowan, what the heck—”
    Rowan pointed at the woman on the sidewalk. “It was her.”
    Paula looked at the best friend completely blankly, and then her head made a shocked dip of recognition.
    “Paula Wittmore, as I live and breathe,” the woman said, hands on her hips now.
    The screen door swung shut behind Paula with a slam. Old Tex jumped and lowered his head. Rowan stroked his neck. It’s okay .
    “Oh, my god!” Paula was off the porch at a run and threw her arms around the dark-haired woman. “Marla! Marla Riley! Look at you! Cripes—it can’t be Riley, though? You must be married.”
    “Married.” Marla grinned and wiggled a huge ring on her left hand. “But I’m hyphenated, very chic: Riley-Moore.” She pulled Paula into another hug, then held her at arm’s length. “I have to take a good look at you.”
    She did. Rowan saw her mother blush under the scrutiny and she understood why. This time, instead of feeling embarrassed
    I heard your mom’s a stripper
    she wanted to chase the woman away. Beside her on the porch, Old Tex was tense too.
    Marla pronounced Paula beautiful. “You’re even better looking that when I last saw you!” she said. “When was that, exactly? Hmmm? It has to be about twelve years ago …”
    Paula shifted awkwardly in her grasp. “Well, we’ve been home once since then, but Rowan got sick and we didn’t stay long enough to see anyone. So it’s actually a little longer, I think.”
    “Mom.”
    It was clearly an interruption, and two sets of eyes turned questioningly towards the girl. Marla grinned with only one side of her mouth.
    “What?”
    She swallowed. “We were going to walk Tex, remember?” It came out more petulant than she’d intended.
    Her mother frowned. “Ro, please! This is my old friend Mrs. Riley-Moore. Marla, this is my daughter, Rowan.”
    “Oh, we introduced ourselves, didn’t we, Rowan?” Marla clasped her hands together. “I was so happy when Izzy told me you were here. It’s a blast to see you again! I hope you’re staying.”
    The two women were grinning idiotically at each other.
    “I don’t know how long we’re staying, actually. You know my mom’s sick?”
    Marla’s face went sombre for a moment and she nodded. “I heard. My mom was the one who called the ambulance. How is she?”
    Paula shrugged. “She just seems … sick, I guess. I still haven’t talked to the doctor. I tried to find him this morning but apparently he’s a ghost.”
    Marla made a sympathetic noise, then brightened again. “Now that you’re back, we have to do it up right. I’m going to reintroduce you to the wonders of Haven. Come to my house on Friday and meet the girls.”
    Paula smiled gratefully. “Oh, Marla, that sounds great. Can you stay a minute or two now? Cup of coffee?”
    “I wish I could. But here’s my address.” She dug in her purse and brought out a small card. “I’m on Proctor,” she said. “By Mom’s place. Remember?”
    Paula took the card and nodded. “Oh,” she said, and glanced back at the porch, where her daughter was pointedly waiting with the dog.
    Rowan took the opportunity to hurry things along. “Mom? Are we going?”
    Marla tinkled her laugh and put a hand on Paula’s arm. “You’d better get going. I know the scene—I have two of my