Shiver

perfectly well. But about the third time Tyler sneaked away from her to “see what Trey is doing,” Sam gave it up.
    Right now, at shortly after five o’clock, “Trey” and Tyler were once again out in the backyard, where a glance through the sliding glass door showed her that “Trey” was teaching Tyler the finer points of dribbling a basketball. Given that “Trey” was leaning on a crutch as he bounced the ball up and down, his efforts were surprisingly dexterous. The other crutch lay discarded in the grass just beyond the patio. Beside it, in a lawn chair looking bored out of his mind, sat Groves, who was on guard duty.
    In a weird, parallel universe kind of way, given the truth of the situation, the day was unwinding in an almost normal-seeming, mundane fashion. Sam still felt edgy and anxious whenever she thought about practically anything beyond the confines of the town house’s four walls, so she just refused to, because worrying about what she couldn’t control or, alternatively, scaring herself senseless didn’t do any good.
    Instead, since she actually enjoyed cooking when she had the time, which she rarely did, and had the necessary ingredients, another rarity, she had nixed the supper suggestion of carry-out KFC and volunteered to make something. As she put the finishing touches on the lasagna she was getting ready to pop into the oven, Sam found herself watching the man and boy playing on the patio with resignation.
    Keeping Tyler from growing attached to Marco under these conditions was pretty close to impossible, she decided. Last night had told the tale. She had been in the kitchen, getting a glass of milk in hopes of soothing her frazzled nerves in the wake of that sizzling encounter with Marco. The milk, plus the hot bath that was next on her agenda, should help her sleep, she had hoped. If it didn’t, she had already made up her mind that she was just going to have to lie awake all night, because the alternative—climbing into bed with Marco, which was what she really wanted to do—wasn’t going to happen. No matter how hot just thinking about it made her. But when Tyler had screamed, and she had gone running upstairs to find Marco sitting on the edge of the bed and Tyler clinging to him just like he would have clung to her if she’d been there, she’d been blindsided. Tyler wasn’t a physically demonstrative child with anyone but her; he didn’t throw hugs and kisses around, or cling indiscriminately. But watching him with Marco, she immediately saw that whatever Marco might be or might have done, Tyler had admitted him into the tiny, privileged circle of people he trusted. It was clear as glass that Tyler was getting attached to him. Just like, Sam feared, she was starting to get attached to the damned man, too.
    Even if she wanted to stop it, to back away and drag Tyler with her, there was nothing she could do. For now, the three of them were stuck together in this prison of a town house. And she knew already that there was just no way it was going to end well.
    So as she made lasagna and watched her son and the guy who was just about the last man in the world they should be playing happy families with bouncing a ball around outside, she felt an ache in her heart. If there was going to be a price to pay for Marco’s intrusion into their lives—and one thing she had learned in a hard school was that everything always came with a price tag attached—she would worry about it later. Right now, Tyler was outside in the late afternoon sunshine laughing and unafraid despite the terrifying things he had been through, and that was all she was going to focus on, because that was the only good news around and there was nothing she could do about anything else.
    While the lasagna cooked, she made a salad. Then, when the food was ready, feeling so much like June Cleaver that she made a snarky face at her reflection in the glass as she reached it, she opened the sliding door to call them in to eat.
    And was just in time to watch her little boy heave the ball through the warm, late summer air and make a basket. It was a regulation height goal, so that was quite a feat. Certainly it was something that he had never accomplished before.
    “Two points! Yes!” Tyler gave a fist pump that made Sam grin.
    “Good job! Way to go, Tyler,” Marco exulted. As Sam, clapping, stepped out onto the patio, he exchanged low fives with Tyler.
    “Yay, Tyler!” Sam called, then added, “Supper,” to