Down by the River by Lin Stepp

step, before pushing open the front door.
    He grinned to see his mother back again at the entry desk. Jack had missed getting by the office yesterday to even check in with her.
    â€œHey, Ma. Good to see you back.” Jack breezed by his mother to walk down the hall and drop a pile of papers in his office. Then he brought the bag of sandwiches he’d picked up back into the front office.
    He buzzed his mother on the cheek as he passed by. “Had any lunch yet? I picked up some sandwiches and pie at the Lemon Tree on my way in.”
    â€œNo. It’s been too busy,” his mother said. “I grabbed a piece of fruit, but I’ve been too swamped with work here to get back to the kitchen to fix more.”
    Jack grinned and passed a sandwich over to his mother as he sat down in the chair across from her desk. “Well, then, it’s your lucky day. Here’s one of Myrtle Kirkpatrick’s famous, homemade ham-salad sandwiches. Complete with dill pickle, chips, fresh lemonade, and Myrtle’s meringue-topped lemon pie—the special of the day.”
    His mother laughed and began to gratefully dig in to her lunch. They fell quiet for a few minutes while they ate.
    Jack watched his mother with pleasure when she wasn’t looking. Althea Teague was an energetic, friendly, capable woman, and Jack had always admired her as a businesswoman, as well as loving her as a mother. Tall and attractive, with a short crop of snow-white hair now, she still exhibited the same big, warm smile he remembered from childhood. Jack glanced over at the photograph of his father, Verlin Teague, sitting on her desk. He’d been a tall, handsome man in his day, too, and Jack knew his own good looks came from the two of them. Jack still missed his father, even after six years.
    Althea caught his glance. “Your father loved Myrtle’s lemon pie just like you.”
    â€œYeah, I remember.” Jack looked away, not wanting to stay on this subject. “How did the doctor’s visit go on Thursday?”
    â€œFine.” She waved off any discussion on that topic, returning their conversation to business as she began to eat her pie. “How many sales did you write this morning?”
    â€œOne this morning and two yesterday.” He flashed her a smile and leaned back in his chair to finish off his lemonade. “I’m a happy man.”
    â€œHmmmph.” Althea took a bite of pie and then looked at Jack with a frown. “I’m glad to hear that, but you almost lost us another important sale on Thursday. Fortunately, I salvaged it yesterday afternoon and wrote out the contract. Your client insisted I get the commission and not you.”
    Jack gave his mother a questioning look. “What are you talking about, Ma?”
    â€œI salvaged the Oakley sale, Son, no thanks to you.”
    Jack’s eyebrows shot up in surprise then. “The widow bought the house?”
    Althea shook her head. “Yes, surprisingly she did. Although you’d think after what she witnessed with that little trollop Ashleigh Anne Layton that she wouldn’t have wanted to do business with us, even if we were the only realty company in America.”
    Jack dropped his eyes. “Did she tell you about that?”
    â€œNo, I heard Ashleigh Anne bragging about it to one of her friends on the telephone when I let myself in the office late Thursday. I do admit I stood out of sight and eavesdropped on her conversation. It sounded quite graphic, Jack.”
    He ran a hand through his hair. “Ashleigh probably exaggerated things, Ma.”
    Althea leveled a steely look at him. “I doubt that, Jack. What I’m angry about is that you brought that girl in here to temp again after I distinctly told you not to. And that you acted as base as you did in plain view on the Oakley’s front porch, right next door to our church, with a potential client standing right inside the doorway. Honestly,