“Are you tracking me?”“What?”“Dinner is always ready as I walk in the door.”“Oh that. Yeah, it’s simple. Your secretary phones me when...you leave, I check the traffic reports and keep an eye on where your phone is.”“You never did that before.”“I know. We were stupid. I should have let you track me. I was, well, I don’t know what I was. There was no reason to keep where I was a secret. I had this half-baked notion that if you didn’t know, then it hyped up the tension, so you’d be even more. She eased the door open and held something out for me. “I’m not sure how well it’ll fit, but it was your Dad’s.”My emotions shifted gears again and I suddenly felt a touch stupid and very thankful. I took the robe, pulled it on, and found that though I had bigger feet than Dad, he and I had similar builds, which meant some of his clothes might fit too. Depending on what he left behind when he took off. I tied the robe closed and pulled the bathroom door open.Mom stood there, waiting. She smiled. More

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