Forever by Linda Cassidy Lewis

occasions the three of them made an extra effort to be there. Lindsay and Julie handled most of the conversation, and when the subject of college paperwork came up, Tom braced for their usual battle of wills.
    “Did you fill out the residency questionnaire?” Julie asked Lindsay.
    “Yes, Mother.” She had a glint in her eye.
    “Did you mail it back?”
    “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
    “What about the other form?”
    “Which one is that, Mother dear?”
    “I don’t remember, Lindsay, but I’m sure you do. You were supposed to have it postmarked by June twelfth.”
    “If I don’t know which one you’re asking about, how do I know if I mailed it?” Lindsay’s eyes were wide with innocence, but a suppressed smirk dimpled the corners of her mouth.
    Julie glared at Lindsay, her jaw working, then she took a deep breath and tried again. “Lindsay, this is not a joke. They don’t make exceptions for smartasses. Fill out the forms and mail them.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Lindsay snapped a salute.
    Julie responded with a sigh and a what-did-I-do-to-deserve-this shake of her head.
    Tom looked from Julie to Lindsay and back again, unable to believe war had been averted so easily. In fact, they finished dinner in the most pleasant mood they’d managed in a long time, and even laughed together as they cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. When Lindsay rode off in a carload of friends minutes later, Julie and Tom settled in front of the TV. He felt almost as if he’d stumbled into a Father Knows Best episode. Except he knew he didn’t know best. Lately, he didn’t even know better.
    One thing he did know, Julie still hadn’t gotten around to bringing up whatever she’d considered important tonight. Twice during dinner, when he caught her looking at him, she’d glanced away. And now, though her eyes were trained on the TV screen, they weren’t tracking. She was miles away in her thoughts and definitely working up to saying something. He hoped he didn’t have a clue what that was, because if he did, this was one conversation he’d like to delay as long as possible.
    Once when he was seven, he’d swatted at a hornet—just to see if he could run faster than it could fly. He’d learned that day not to go looking for trouble. Julie would talk when she was ready. He could wait.
    When her phone rang an hour later, she answered and moved to the breakfast nook. Tom couldn’t hear her well enough over the TV to make out her words, but he could tell by the way she laughed that she was talking to Patricia. Were they laughing at him? He could almost feel his blood pressure rise at the thought and, as an added bonus, he felt the first twinge of another headache. He reached for his pocket pack of Excedrin before he remembered he’d left it in the truck, along with his cell phone to avoid an interruption during dinner. A second stab in his temple reminded him he was supposed to call Annie.
    He grabbed the remote, clicked off the TV, and headed into the kitchen. As usual, his boots stood by the door, and he startled Julie when he walked up behind her sock footed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “I forgot to finish the daily report, so I’m going back to do it now.”
    Julie never took the phone from her ear, and though she covered the mouthpiece with her hand, she only nodded to show she heard him. Tom figured she was listening to Patricia, and would probably realize later she had no idea where he’d gone.
    * * *
    Tom hadn’t really intended to drive to his current job site. He’d planned on parking a few blocks from home and calling Annie from his truck, but as he pulled to the curb he discovered his cell phone’s battery level had dropped to two percent. He drove on to the mobile office.
    As he sat down at his desk and reached for the phone, he thought about Julie’s reaction. She hadn’t seemed to think it odd he’d gone out at that time of night. He dialed Annie’s number. If anything, Julie