Charade by Barri Bryan

once more, and narrowed his eyes in her direction. “It's not how long, but how well you know him that counts."
    That was none of Joel's business. Even as Lynn explained, she wondered why she felt compelled to do so. “Trace did some work on the building. He's the son of a friend of Mother's.” Ralph had been mother's friend before she and Trace interfered.
    Joel replied assertively, “I can make you forget him."
    Lynn didn't want to forget, and she had to make Joel see that, even if it meant doing irreparable harm to his fragile ego. She spoke slowly and emphatically. “Joel, listen to me and listen carefully. You and I are through, over, kaput."
    Tears welled up in Joel's eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “I ... I can't accept that."
    "You have to; you have no choice, because that's the way it is.” Lynn stood and slid her hands into her robe pockets. “Goodbye, Joel."
    Joel struggled to his feet. “You're making a mistake."
    Maybe she was. Lynn had no way to know for sure. She was sure of one thing. She was free of Joel's clinging memory. Gone forever were the feelings of betrayal and loss.
    "Good luck and have a good life, Joel."
    Without looking her way, Joel stumbled out the door and down the stairs.
    Lynn shut the door and leaned against it feeling a sense of exhilaration and independence such as she had not experienced in years. She made her way to her bedroom and fell across the bed. “It's over. After all these years, it's really and finally over.” She slept that night as if she had died.
    * * * *
    Lynn woke the next morning and remembered that this was to be another day of reckoning. She had to face her mother and try to make amends for meddling in her life.
    She had a leisurely breakfast, read the Sunday paper, showered, dressed and made ready for the dreaded task ahead. How long would it be before her mother forgave her? Would she renew her friendship with Ralph once she knew the truth? Would Trace show up to support Lynn in her effort to set things right? She could only hope.
    Lynn stopped her car in Lillie's drive at precisely one-thirty-five. Trace's pickup was nowhere in sight. She wondered if he'd show up later.
    As she got out of her car, Lillie called from the front porch, “You're late."
    Lynn couldn't remember designating a specific time to be here. It wouldn't be wise to start an argument with her mother about so trivial a matter as her time of arrival, so she apologized without enthusiasm. “I'm sorry."
    Lillie stepped inside and turning, motioned for Lynn to follow her. “I hope you aren't the bearer of bad tidings."
    "Bearer of bad tidings?” Lynn questioned. Where had her mother come up with a phrase like that? She sat on the couch. “Don't start with me, Mother."
    Minerva hopped from the other end of the couch, stretched, yawned, and with her tail over her back walked from the room.
    Lillie complained as Lynn sat in the space the cat had vacated. “Now you've gone and upset Minerva.” She pitched her voice high and called out, “Here kitty, kitty, kitty."
    Minerva was running true to form. She lifted her nose in the air and disappeared down the hall.
    Lillie jumped to her feet. “I have to see about the poor dear, or else she will be totally offended for the remainder of the day."
    Lynn let out a long-suffering sigh. “Mother, honestly, you treat that cat as if she were a human being."
    "She's brighter than a lot of people I know,” Lillie retorted as she hurried down the hall.
    Lynn called after her mother, “She's also a monumental pain in the posterior."
    The door bell rang as Lillie reappeared with Minerva in her arms. “Get the door; I'm taking Minerva to the kitchen to give her a kitty treat."
    Lynn said as she moved toward the door, “You shouldn't reward that cat for bad behavior.” She pulled the door open to see Trace and Ralph standing on the other side.
    Lillie called from the kitchen, “Who is it dear?"
    Lynn motioned for the two men to come inside. “It's