happened on Sunday?”
I looked out my kitchen window.
”Sunday made me think about a lot of things.”
He hesitated.
”Christa says she’s sorry things got awkward.”
”Does she understand why I was hurt?”
Another pause.
”She just wanted her parents to have a special dinner.”
”And where did that leave me?”
Owen didn’t answer.
That silence told me the conversation wasn’t finished.
Several days later, I was working in my garden when Christa’s white SUV pulled into my driveway.
She climbed out and marched toward my front porch.
Without knocking, she took a key from her purse and tried the lock.
It didn’t turn.
She pulled it out, examined it, and tried again.
Nothing.
Then she spotted me beside the roses.
”You changed your locks!”
I stood up and brushed the soil from my gardening gloves.
”Yes, I did.”
”Without telling us?”
”It’s my home, Christa. The spare key
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