Restless. Tori Carrington

lie across her white canopy bed, remembering happier times.

      Another sound.

      Lizzie’s footsteps slowed. If she wasn’t mistaken, it had come from her old room.

      She slowly opened the door and then gasped, standing rooted to the spot. Lying across her old bed was her mother, naked, her hands tied above her head to the canopy posts. Her father was kneeling at the edge, an extra large feather held aloft as he swung his head to look at her.

      And the sound? The headboard hitting the wall.

      Lizzie screamed and ran from the room. So much for leaving a scene before it ruined her for life. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to go into her old bedroom again.

      A COUPLE HOURS LATER, Lizzie sat on the leather couch in her family room, flipping through channels on the television, purposely ignoring her vibrating cell phone. Her mother had called no fewer than five times since Lizzie had bolted from the house as if the floor had been covered with burning coals. Much of what had happened since the moment she’d caught her parents playing Pin the Princess on her bed—her childhood bed in her childhood room—had passed in a blur. She couldn’t even remember what she’d done with the fudge pop.

      And at this point, she didn’t care, either. She half hoped she’d dropped the melting chocolate on the white carpet of her old room so her mother would have to clean it up…among other things.

      Ugh.

      Well, she supposed there was one good thing to come out of the situation. Her parents appeared to have reconciled.

      She stuck her chopsticks into the rice container and put both down on the coffee table, pulling the chenille throw across her lap up to her chin.

      Her cell vibrated and she turned the display so she could read the caller ID. Her sister, Annie.

      She answered.

      “Okay, what’s up? Mom’s going out of her mind with worry because you aren’t taking her calls.” Leave it to Annie to cut straight to the chase.

      Younger than Lizzie by a year, her sister usually managed to keep up the front that her life was all sunshine and roses. But Lizzie knew it was more like dirty diapers and teething rings. The last time she’d talked to Annie, her sister had been a scant inch removed from running away from her family altogether. Which didn’t make any sense to Lizzie, because so far as she could tell, her sister had gotten everything she’d ever wanted out of life. A great husband. A marvelous house. Two beautiful children and another on the way.

      Not that little Jasmine and Mason were angels. Far from it. They were loud and smelly and needed constant supervision. And somewhere in there, Annie had to fit in love, as well. Which wasn’t always easy.

      So Lizzie and Annie had spent a lot of time on the phone lately. The approach suited Lizzie fine. Since she worked such long hours, she wasn’t physically able to step in to help her sister out much. The issue of children in her own future still hung like a swaying question mark. Not because she’d had any bad experiences or her sister’s situation had turned her off kids. She’d simply been so busy she hadn’t had a chance to think about them.

      That, and she had yet to meet a man she loved enough to consider sharing another human being with.

      Even Jerry.

      So Lizzie paid back her sister’s brevity with a concise rundown of the evening’s events.

      A silent pause stretched after she finished. Then, finally, Annie’s laughter filled her ear.