False Impressions by Terri Thayer

worry; they’re not loaded.”
    She took a step closer, and he offered her one of the guns to hold. She picked one from his upturned palm. It was lightweight. And pretty. A vine design twined around the barrel.
    “Twenty-two?” she asked. Ed had taught her to use a gun as soon as she’d turned thirteen. She’d been to a range in Marin a few times when she lived in California, but not for several years.
    “Yeah, girly guns,” Logan said disparagingly. “If she ever shot this, that mother-of-pearl on the handle would crack.”
    He opened the cabinet and put away the guns in their wooden case and set it back on the shelf. He took out a shotgun.
    “My new pump action,” he said, laying the gun lovingly in his friend’s arms, who grunted in admiration. “Just got it.”
    “Looks expensive,” April said, wondering how he’d afforded it with new twins.
    “My wife’s telling me I have to leave it here when we move into the new place,” Logan said with the exasperation of a newlywed unused to compromise. “She doesn’t want any guns in the house.” He took it from his friend and locked the gun cabinet, using a key on a chain heavy with keys. His friend wandered off after offering to bring Logan a refill. Logan refused.
    April asked, “How long have you and Kit been together?” He must have always been interested in guns.
    “Off and on, since high school.”
    She could ask him about Mary Lou’s brother. There was no chance down here of Mary Lou overhearing and getting the wrong idea. “So did you know Kit’s uncle? The one who died?”
    Logan shrugged. “J.B.? Sure I knew him. I spent most of my senior year of high school in this house. He was living here back then.”
    Kit was twenty-one, so that was about four years ago.
    “Didn’t he work?” April asked. She kept an eye on the steps for signs of Mary Lou. She didn’t want her to know she was asking about her brother, but this was her chance to find out.
    “Off and on. He was working at the lumberyard for a while. Then at a gas station. He was good with motorcycles, not much else. He never had much of a career or anything. Mary Lou kept him busy. She always has odd jobs to do at her houses. Ripping out old carpet, putting down new stuff. Shoveling the walks in the winter, keeping the lawn green in the summer. I do the odd jobs for her now.”
    A roar went up from the pool table. Mitch called her over. “Rocky’s run the table.”
    She walked over. April raised her eyebrows at Rocky’s success. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she said.
    Logan joined them. “Rocky is pretty coordinated,” Logan said. “She beat me at Donkey Kong the last time we had a party here.”
    April said, raising her voice, “She has a major advantage. She’s old enough to have been around for the original game.”
    “I heard that,” Rocky said, mock threatening her with a pool cue. “Rack ’em,” she said to her brother.
    “I’m not playing you,” Mitch said. “I like to keep my money.”
    “I know, brother, I know.” She made a challenge to the room, but no one was willing to take her on, so Rocky played by herself, methodically sending the balls into the pockets.
    The sound on the TV suddenly came up, with the familiar music that meant the game was about to begin. A popcorn machine had been started, and the pervasive smell filled the air. This was about to become a serious football-viewing venue. April wanted to get out before the coin toss.
    Mitch came over and kissed her neck, his eyes on the TV.
    “You want to watch this?” she asked.
    “I don’t have to,” he said, straining to hear the announcer. “It’s the Steelers.”
    “You can,” April said. “I’m going to go see if Mary Lou needs help.”
    “I’ll be up in a while,” Mitch said. April laughed. She didn’t believe him. When she was ready to go home, she’d have to drag him out. He’d already followed Logan to an empty spot on the couch with a direct view of the TV. Not that