Page 49 of A Simple Regret

“Wiff Cam!”

Linda’s eyes crinkle with humor. “I bet Cam enjoys sledding with you too.” She ruffles his hair and adds, “Maybe one of these days I’ll go with you and Cam too.”

“Okay! Bye-bye,” my son hollers before returning to his chair to keep watching his show.

Linda slips on her boots and puts her winter coat back on, zipping it up to her neck. “Give me another hug, honey.”

I do as directed, squeezing a little harder than before. “Thanks again for stopping by.”

“Stay in touch, Maren.”

“I will.”

She exits my house and walks toward the driveway. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I end up moving toward the window in the kitchen. Linda’s driving a small SUV, similar in size to my own, and it’s parked in the driveway next to mine.

Cam’s driveway.

I finish my own lemonade and turn my attention back to one of the boxes in my bedroom. Summer clothes and a variety of dresses mostly, and I quickly take them to hang them up. The shorts are placed on a shelf in the closet, since I don’t have a lot of space in my dresser.

Once that box is empty, I break it down and check on Theo. He’s content, sitting on the floor and playing with blocks, all while his favorite show plays on the TV. “I’m going to take this box out to the garage real quick.”

And then an idea hits me. When I think of Linda, I think of the M&M cookies and so many home-cooked meals she prepared. Many times, I was included in those meals. My favorite was her meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and glazed carrots, but there were a few others I really enjoyed. While she was a whiz in the kitchen, I recall several of them being fairly simple recipes, with only a handful of ingredients, most of them common.

Mentally, I run through what’s in the pantry and fridge.

“Hey, Theo, do you want to help me cook dinner tonight? I thought we could make some homemade pizza.”

His eyes brighten as he gets up and runs over to where I stand. “Pizza?”

“Yep,” I tell him. “We’ll make our own crust and everything.”

“Cheese?”

“Yes, we can have cheese on half. I’ll put some sausage and mushrooms on my half.”

“Okay,” he replies.

“Go ahead and play for a while, and when it’s time, you can come help me.”

“Yay!” he hollers, throwing his hands up and running back to his blocks. He proceeds to talk out loud all about the pizza he’s going to make, even though he has no idea how to actually make it.

With the broken-down box in hand, I slip on shoes and head out the back door. The garage is still unlocked from my previous trips out here, and when I get inside the space, I set the box down on the stack with the others and retrieve one of the few remaining boxes left to unpack. This one is labeled kitchen gadgets and is a bit heavier than the previous ones.

I lift the box and carefully make my way toward the door. It’s awkwardly shaped, both wide and deep, so maneuvering through the doorway and trying to close the door, all while balancing a large box is a challenge. The first time I try to shut the door, it bounces off the corner of the box and reopens. So, when I try a second time, I close it harder and run out, a loud thud as it slams shut behind me.

“Hey.”

I squeal and spin, the box wobbling in my arms. “Shit, you scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry. Just throwing some trash in the bin,” Camden replies, lifting the lid on the blue container and throwing the bag inside. “You good?”

“Yep,” I reply a bit tightly, the box growing heavier with each passing second.

“Do you need help?” he asks, already walking toward me.

“I got it,” I mutter, almost dropping what’s in my hands.

“Shit, Maren, why didn’t you ask for help?” He’s already leaping forward, catching the box and taking it in his arms. “What the hell is in here? A body?”