The engine was strong, and Sara had skied behind it many times, her father at the wheel, holding back on the throttle for fear of jerking her arms off.

After checking that she was not being watched, Sara slipped the gun out of her briefcase and locked it in the watertight glove box in front of the passengers seat, plastic bag and all. She stepped her leg outside the boat, using her foot to push away from the dock. The engine sputtered when she turned the key. Technically, she should have had the motor checked before using the boat again after not using it all winter, but she did not really have a choice, since the techs would not be finished with her car until Monday. Asking her father for a lift would have invited too much conversation, and Jeffrey was not an option.

After emitting a cloud of nasty-looking blue smoke, the engine caught, and Sara pulled away from the dock, allowing a small smile. She had felt like a criminal leaving with the gun in her briefcase, but she was feeling safer. Whatever Jeffrey thought when he saw the gun was gone was not really Sara's concern.

By the time she reached the center of the lake, the boat was skipping across the water. Cold wind cut through her face, and she put her glasses on to protect her eyes. Though the sun was beating down, the water was cool from the recent rains that had fallen on Grant County. It looked ready to storm again tonight, but probably well after the sun went down.

Sara zipped her jacket closed to fight the cold. Still, by the time she could see the back of her house, her nose was running and her cheeks felt as if she had put her face into a bucket of cold ice water. Cutting a hard left, she steered away from a group of rocks under the water. There had been a sign marking the spot at one time, but it had rotted away years ago. With the recent rains, the lake was high, but Sara did not want to risk it.

She had docked into the boathouse and was using the electric winch to pull the boat out of the water when her mother appeared from the back of the house.

"Shit," Sara mumbled, pressing the red button to stop the winch.

"I called the clinic," Cathy said. "Nelly said you were taking tomorrow off."

"That's right," Sara answered, pulling the chains to lower the door behind the boat.

"Your sister told me about your argument last night."

Sara jerked the chain tight, sending a clattering through the metal structure. "If you're here to threaten me, the damage has been done."

"Meaning?"

Sara walked past her mother, stepping off the dock. "Meaning he knows," she said, tucking her hands into her hips, waiting for her mother to follow.

"What did he say?"

"I can't talk about it," Sara answered, turning toward the house. Her mother followed her up the lawn but was thankfully silent.

Sara unlocked the back door, leaving it open for her mother as she went into the kitchen. She realized too late that the house was a mess.

Cathy said, "Really, Sara, you can make time to clean."

"I've been very busy at work."

"That's not an excuse," Cathy lectured. "Just say to yourself, 'I'm going to do one load of laundry every other day. I'm going to make sure I put things back where I found them.' Pretty soon you're organized."

Sara ignored the familiar advice as she walked into the living room. She pressed the scroll on the caller ID unit, but no calls had been logged.

"Power went off," her mother said, pressing the buttons on the stove to set the time. "These storms are playing havoc with the cable. Your father almost had a heart attack last night when he turned on Jeopardy! and got nothing but fuzz."

Sara felt some relief from this. Maybe Jeffrey had called. Stranger things had happened. She walked over to the sink, filling the teakettle with water. "Do you want some tea?"

Cathy shook her head.

"Me, either," Sara mumbled, leaving the kettle in the sink. She walked to the back of the house, taking off her shirt, then her skirt as she walked into the bedroom. Cathy followed her, keeping a trained mother's eye on her daughter.

"Are you fighting with Jeffrey again?"

Sara slipped a T-shirt over her head. "I'm always fighting with Jeffrey, Mother. It's what we do."

"When you're not busy squirming in your seat over him in church."

Sara bit her lip, feeling her cheeks turn red.

Cathy asked, "What happened this time?"

"God, Mama, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Then tell me about this thing with Jeb McGuire."

"There's no 'thing.' Really." Sara slipped on a pair of sweatpants.

Cathy sat on the bed, smoothing the sheet out with the flat of her hand. "That's good. He's not really your type."

Sara laughed. "What's my type?"

"Someone who can stand up to you."

"Maybe I like Jeb," Sara countered, aware there was a petulant tone to her voice. "Maybe I like the fact that he's predictable and nice and calm. God knows he's waited long enough to go out with me. Maybe I should start seeing him."

Cathy said, "You're not as angry with Jeffrey as you think."

"Oh, really?"

"You're just hurt, and that's making you feel angry. You so seldom open yourself up to other people," Cathy continued. Sara noticed that her mothers voice was soothing yet firm, as if she were coaxing a dangerous animal out of its hole. "I remember when you were little. You were always so careful about who you let be your friend."

Sara sat on the bed so she could put on her socks. She said, "I had lots of friends."

"Oh, you were popular, but you only let a few people in." She stroked Sara's hair back behind her ear. "And after what happened in Atlanta-"

Sara put her hand over her eyes. Tears came, and she mumbled, "Mama, I really can't talk about that right now. Okay? Please, not now."

"All right," Cathy relented, putting her arm around Sara's shoulder. She pulled Sara's head to her chest. "Shh," Cathy hushed, stroking Sara's hair. "It's okay."

"I just…" Sara shook her head, unable to continue. She had forgotten how good it felt to be comforted by her mother. The last few days she had been so intent upon pushing Jeffrey away that she had managed to distance herself from her family as well.

Cathy pressed her lips to the crown of Sara's head, saying, "There was an indiscretion between your father and me."

Sara was so surprised that she stopped crying. "Daddy cheated on you?"

"Of course not." Cathy frowned. A few seconds passed before she provided, "It was the other way around."

Sara felt like an echo. "You cheated on Daddy?"

"It was never consummated, but in my heart I felt that it was."

"What does that mean?" Sara shook her head, thinking this sounded like one of Jeffrey's excuses: flimsy. "No, never mind." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, thinking she did not really want to hear this. Her parents' marriage was the pedestal upon which Sara had placed all her ideas about relationships and love.

Cathy seemed intent on telling her story. "I told your father that I wanted to leave him for another man."

Sara felt silly with her mouth hanging open, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She finally managed, "Who?"

"Just a man. He was stable, had a job over at one of the plants. Very calm. Very serious. Very different from your father."

"What happened?"

"I told your father that I wanted to leave him."

"And?"

"He cried and I cried. We were separated for about six months. In the end we decided to stay together."

"Who was the other man?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Is he still in town?"

Cathy shook her head. "Doesn't matter. He's not in my life anymore, and I'm with your father."

Sara concentrated on her breathing for a while. She finally managed to ask, "When did this happen?"

"Before you and Tessie were born."