Free Keeping the Peace by Linda Cunningham

storm.
    “Well, someone’s coming here,” said Melanie. “It can’t be through traffic. Not on a night like tonight. We’re the last place for two miles, and the houses at the other end are easier to get to from the main route.”
    “They’ve got to be coming here,” Michael said.
    John snorted. He didn’t want to face more drama.
    Sure enough, as they all stood there watching the lights, the vehicle turned into the driveway.
    “I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” said Melanie, going to the door. She went out into the mudroom to open the front door.
    Everyone waited, curious and just a little apprehensive.
    John heard the door open and a voice say, “Hello, Mrs. Giamo. I was wondering whether I could come in for a minute.”
    “Oh, my, what are you doing out on a night like this?” Melanie asked with surprise in her voice. “Of course, of course, come in, please.”
    Gabriel followed her into the warm living room, and Melanie closed the door behind them. Several things happened at once: the dogs started barking, the girls on the couch made a strange sound, and the knife that John had been using clattered to the floor.
    Melanie said, “Please, Mr. Strand, let me take your coat.”
    “Thanks, but please, call me Gabe,” said their guest over the ensuing mayhem. He handed her his coat and stood, looking around. “This is a great room.”
    The dogs swarmed him, barking, but he wasn’t disturbed. He held out his hand, and they both sniffed, then started to wiggle and jump, begging for attention.
    “Go lie down, you idiots,” John said harshly to the dogs as he crossed the room.
    The visitor extended his right hand. John shook it.
    “What brings you all the way out here in this storm? Is there more trouble?” Melanie asked.
    Strand looked away from John and smiled at Melanie. “I just had to make amends,” the musician said. In his left hand, he held two longish paper-wrapped packages. He handed one to Melanie. “I’m really very sorry for crashing into you this morning.”
    She took the package and looked down through the top. “Ooohh, flowers,” she said. “Thank you so much. They’re beautiful.”
    Mia and Emmie were standing, struck dumb, beside the couch. The Ragged Rainbow front man handed the other package to Mia. John noted with some shock that his daughter had somehow managed to shed her neck brace and her arm sling. They were nowhere in sight. He could see his daughter’s hand shake as she took the flowers. Emmie’s face was flushed.
    “Thank you,” said Mia, almost in a whisper. “Thank you so much.”
    “Did everything check out okay with you at the hospital?” Strand asked.
    Emmie nodded vigorously. She said rapidly, “Oh, yes! She’s really, really good. They gave her a prescription for Vicodin, but she won’t take it. She’s not in that much pain. She—”
    “I’m fine,” said Mia, cutting her friend off. “Thank you for asking. Thank you for coming. Really. Oh, this is my friend, Emmie Cohen.”
    “Nice to meet you, Emmie.” Strand extended his hand again.
    Only her mother’s good training and guidance throughout the years gave Emmie the presence of mind to shake his hand, John thought.
    Melanie stepped in smoothly. “She’s had some whiplash, that’s all. Please, Mr. Strand—”
    “Gabriel. I think Mr. Strand is my father,” the young man said, laughing.
    “Well, then, Gabriel,” said Melanie, “please join us for dinner. My husband’s cooking.”
    In the heat of the kitchen, Melanie had unzipped her turtleneck sweater. John saw the lace trim of her camisole and the gentle swell of her breasts. He also saw the musician’s eyes flicker over Melanie’s chest, but Melanie didn’t seem to notice.
    “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Gabriel asked, a friendly smile playing on his lips.
    He snorted to redirect their guest’s attention from his wife’s chest. “That’s a very good thing. Baked penne with Parmigiano Reggiano and sausage.