Free Necessary Detour by Kim Hornsby Page A

soprano of a child’s voice drifted on the morning air across the bay. It was the boy. She smiled at the innocence of a young child composing his own sound track to his life. She didn’t look over. Instead, she filled the top quarter of the page with a dusty blue and wondered if Pete was a good father. September meant school to most kids unless you are the child of a rock star and aren’t even safe at a private girls’ school. The boy obviously wasn’t in the school system or he’d be gone during the day. Maybe Pete homeschooled him. Maybe school started in October.
    Her strokes increased in intensity, and Nikki found herself painting in time to the boy’s singing. Lots of high action drama was indicated by the staccato of his song. Nikki chuckled, trying to remember if she’d done that sort of thing when she was young. Or had Quinny? Had her precious daughter ever been young and carefree like this?
    Between colors, she noticed the child’s small frame dash through the trees to the side of the house. He was easy to spot in a white T-shirt. Then, the boy’s fantasy was interrupted by a woman’s voice. “…Get in...thinking?”
    Nikki couldn’t make out all the words. The meaning was clear though. An arm waved from the side porch, like a mother who has asked ten times for her son to come in for lunch.
    If this was the boy’s mother, Pete must be married. If so, what was he doing acting all handsome and flirty with her? And he’d initiated a kiss. What was that all about? She dropped the brush and covered her mouth with her hand.
    Recalling her indignation at the kiss, she was somewhat relieved. She’d told Pete he’d taken advantage of the situation. It was a more than a cheap shot to kiss her and think he could get away with it. She felt used now. Something needed to be done to show him she would not be played like this. She’d offer the buns and jam again, this time with a different approach, this time as an offering to the woman. If she was his wife, it would hold an underlying meaning that Nikki was sorry about being stuck with a husband who kisses other women. This visit would put her and Pete on a new track—one that didn’t include flirting.
    “It’s the right thing to do,” Nikki said to Elvis, who looked thrilled at the prospect of a walk. Having traded her tracksuit for tan capris and a filmy blouse, Nikki headed down the driveway for the Bayer house with her expectations only an inch off the ground. Her goal was to knock on the door no matter what she saw or heard. She knew an adult was home this time.
    Elvis sniffed his way along the road, prancing off into the forest to emerge every few minutes to check on Nikki’s whereabouts. Rounding the corner after the bridge, she saw someone ahead. Pete Bayer stood on the deck of the house, leaning against the railing, staring at her, waiting for her.
    “Hi.” The husky word caught in his throat, making it sound more like a whisper. Today he looked entirely different as a married man.
    “Hello.” A breeze had been blowing all morning off the lake and Nikki was glad she’d tied her hair back in a ponytail. Pete’s uneven hair was just long enough to blow around his face, like fire licking the sides of a log. She came to a halt twenty feet off the deck, trying to look androgynously innocent.
    He descended the four stairs and closed the distance. “What’s up?”
    The amulet at his neck bounced when he talked. Did the symbol have anything to do with a society who kissed women who weren’t your wife? “I baked and thought you might like some buns.” She held up the basket.
    When he flashed his endearing smirk at her, she had to remind herself that this was the man who knew his wedding ring was only one house away when he’d flirted. And this was the same man who’d watched her struggle with the boat. He wasn’t her friend.
    “That’s very nice of you.” He didn’t look grateful.
    Was he being facetious? Reaching for the basket, their