Enter Three Witches by Kate Gilmore Page B

the park, I decided to come home.” Bren was appalled to see the effect this explanation had on his mother, but it took him a minute to figure out what he had said that would account for it.
    Miranda sank into a chair and covered her face with her hands. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew there had to be someone else. Why else would he leave and not want to come back?”
    Bren himself had not really confronted his father’s apparent infidelity; he’d had too much else on his mind. Now he was struck dumb in a tangle of conflicting emotions. Worst of all, he was obviously expected to say something manly and comforting to his mother. Nothing whatsoever came to mind.
    “So that’s that,” Miranda said in a small, husky voice, which was alarmingly on the verge of tears.
    “So that’s what?” Bren asked, playing for time.
    “Oh, Bren, don’t be stupid!” his mother cried, jumping up with a startling return to her usual manner. She strode to the window and stared out toward the park and the East Side, where her estranged husband presumably was disporting himself with some showgirl or feeble-minded, long-legged secretary. “Not for long, he won’t,” she muttered. “Just give me time to think, and I’ll fix that romance. I’ll turn her into a toad.”
    “Come on, Mom,” Bren said. “You can do better than that. A toad! You must have been reading fairy stories.”
    Miranda turned and stared at her son as if she had forgotten he was there. “Well, what do you suggest?” she asked.
    “I suggest you forget the whole thing,” Bren said. “I’m really sorry I said anything. You know what a cesspool Smirky Sammy has for a mind, or maybe you don’t, but take my word for it. Dad’s probably working late with someone from the office, whipping up a new campaign or whatever, and besides…” He had been about to add that Bob West was a man living alone, parted from his wife, and not a monk. Just in time, he thought better of it.
    “Besides what?” Miranda asked suspiciously.
    “Besides you shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Bren improvised. It occurred to him that his mother’s wrath had been redirected and that angry as he still was about her interference with his evening, a tactful withdrawal was now in order. He began to edge toward the door.
    “I’ll think of something,” Miranda said. “I’ll take my time and do it right. Maybe you can find out what she’s like, Bren. That’s such a help. I mean, if you want to make someone’s hair fall out, for example, it helps to know what kind of hair it is. It’s not essential, but it helps.”
    “Mom, if there is a person, you know, the kind of person you’re imagining, which I doubt, but if there is, I don’t think I’m likely to meet her. Come on, Shadow, let’s go to bed. I’m beat.” I really am, he thought. What a day.
    “You don’t want to help,” Miranda said, and the tears were back in her voice. “First you scare me half out of my mind, and then you refuse to do just a little tiny thing to help me. I can’t believe it.”
    Bren, somewhat against his better judgment, crossed the room and gave his mother a hug. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said. “I didn’t think of it that way, and as for the other thing, if I find anything out, I’ll let you know, okay?”
    Miranda returned the hug. She was comforted, if not convinced, and Bren and Shadow made their escape.

Chapter Ten
    Bren slept badly and woke far earlier than was decent on a gray Sunday morning. A great chance to sleep, he told himself sternly, but it was no good. He was awake, and he was thinking about Erika and his mother and his father and his father’s possible girlfriend. None of these subjects was in the least restful. With a growl that startled his still-slumbering dog, he threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed.
    The kitchen was nearly dark except for the light over the stove, which revealed an array of dismantled burners and the rear end of Louise, who was