Read Online Necessary Detour by Kim Hornsby - Free Book Online Page B

mouth of the bay it had been ninety minutes since the breakdown. Her dock was now in full view and when she pulled out of the wind, she took a break. A flash of color at the Dickerson’s window made her blood boil.
    Although her first instinct was to yell “What the fuck?” she kept her swear words on the quiet side of her lips. Was he over there laughing that Goldy had to maneuver her boat two miles across the lake? She picked up the paddle and continued, eager to be out of his view. If Pete was a reporter, he’d have driven to the marina to rent a boat and squirreled away the favor she owed him for another time.
    With Elvis perched in the bow, Nikki awkwardly closed the distance between the bay’s mouth and her dock. “Oh, Elvis, wasn’t that fun?” The little dog, who’d assumed the job of a piggish masthead, wagged his tail. “And such good exercise.” For a pregnant woman. She’d long since tied her T-shirt around her forehead to minimize the sweaty drips into her eyes and now pulled it off to appear more collected than she felt.
    Forty feet from the dock, she jumped into the water, both to cool off and to ease the strain on her back. With the bowline in her hand, she towed the floating monstrosity the final few feet, her own beast of burden.
    Once the boat was tied up, Nikki stomped across the grass to her house, her middle finger raised in case Pete was looking. She had a good mind to call over to Dickerson’s and ask if he had any Tylenol or ask him to rush her to the nearest hospital for muscle cramps.
    Instead, she fixed a mug of strong tea, slathered a blueberry muffin in butter and when that found the insides of her stomach, she planted herself in front of the piano. She’d fix the boat later when she could stand the sight of it.
    Fury dictated her music as she played with the emotions of someone who’d been forced to paddle a burdensome boat for almost two hours when a solution stood staring selfishly at her from the trees. There was a desperation that had been lacking in earlier musical efforts. By the time Nikki completed the musical passage, she was mentally exhausted from the effort of being so angry. At Pete.
    ****
    The next morning, crippling stiffness set in and Nikki could barely drag herself out of bed. Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water rain over her aching arms to loosen her shoulder muscles. Even her abdominal muscles were screaming. Apparently being in top physical condition didn’t count for paddling a motorboat against the wind for ninety minutes.
    She imagined the baby as a tiny roller derby queen. Despite twenty vigorous shows and an electrocution, it had grown inside her these last months. Soon it would be noticeable. To her at least.
    Her level of anger had died down to a tolerable level and after tea and soda crackers, she decided to pay Pete a visit. If he said anything about watching her struggle the day before, she’d be tempted to vent her anger. But for now she’d saunter over there like her muscles weren’t shrieking at her and he wasn’t a jerk.
    Nikki pulled out her baking sheets and gathered the ingredients for her grandmother’s buns—flour, sugar, salt, raisins, milk. The sweet hot cross confection was about the only thing Nikki knew how to bake and she was determined to deliver the mouth-watering buns to Pete Bayer with an equally sweet smile.
    She packaged them warm and added a jar of Quinn’s homemade blackberry jam to the basket. Donning a skintight tank top and short shorts, Nikki set out to make him suffer. This was a man who’d kissed her, shown interest, then abandoned her in a time of need.
    Along the way, she thought of what to say. Oh, it’s nothing. I love to bake and of course I can’t eat everything myself and keep this knockout body. By the way, were you too busy to help me with the boat yesterday or were you designing software? Or maybe writing a scathing expose about me?
    At the last bend in the dirt road, she heard a rustling