Pulling Home by Mary Campisi Page A

crotch.
    Peter turned away and guided Audra and Kara toward the exit doors. “Don’t even
    say it,” he muttered once they were standing in the warm night breeze. “Not a single word.”
    Audra stifled a laugh but it was Kara who yanked his hand and said, “Uncle Peter, that lady liked you. Did you see the way her eyes twitched when she looked at you? Why did she whisper in your ear? Whispering in front of other people is rude.”
    Peter squeezed Kara’s hand and said, “She was a rude lady, sweetheart. And she
    didn’t like me. She doesn’t even know me.”
    The outside world only knew the handsome, sophisticated Peter Andellieu as the
    television doctor who stripped women’s insecurities and gave them a new life with a perfect body part. Some women craved smaller noses. Others, larger breasts. Still others, tummy tucks. But Dr. Perfection provided more than just a look good, feel great mentality. He engaged therapists, trainers, and nutritionists to help these women gain the self-esteem and joy of living that had nothing to do with body shape or critical mass. By the time they completed his ten-week program, they’d fallen in love with themselves and their lives. Unfortunately, most of them had fallen in love with Dr. Perfection, too.
    They reached Peter’s car and loaded their luggage into the trunk. Kara climbed in back, belted herself in, and clutched her head. “My head kills.”
    Audra turned around and stroked her daughter’s hair. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get something in your stomach and you’ll feel better. Are you sure you want an In and Out burger?”
    “Uh-huh. And fries.”
    Peter sighed and pulled out of the parking lot. “How am I supposed to teach my
    audience about healthy eating when my two best girls are stuffing themselves with burgers and fries?”
    “Does that mean you’ll be abstaining tonight?”
    He threw her a long glance. “Oh no. I want it all.”
    Audra squeezed his hand and settled back in her seat. It was good to be home,
    back to a place she understood and where she belonged. It would be hard enough to get through her days without Christian, but at least she had Kara and Peter. Christian would have wanted it this way. He would not have wanted her to submit to the demands of the irascible Wheytons, like blackmailers forcing her to surrender her child.
    Bad enough she had to bury her husband, but to walk into a town that refused to
    forget and certainly would never forgive her for being a Valentine? She’d been right to avoid Holly Springs all these years. The place and its people harbored nothing but bad memories and ill will. She didn’t need it. Not Alice Wheyton and her sorrowful eyes begging her to let Kara stay. Not Joe Wheyton and his gruff persona trying to strong-arm her to reconsider for duty’s sake. Not those old biddies who hunched around Alice Wheyton’s table spreading gossip faster than a California brushfire. Not a half crazy woman vowing Audra’s mother was not the tramp people claimed she was. And worst of all, certainly not Jack Wheyton, who reminded her with every look, every gesture, every venomous word, that she did not belong, would never belong.
    The In and Out burger and fries didn’t relieve Kara’s headache. Attributing it to travel and the good-bye stress at the Wheytons, Audra tucked Kara into bed—her own bed, not the bed of a dead child—and promised she’d feel better in the morning.
    With Kara settled, Audra poured Peter a glass of chardonnay and plunked beside
    him on the couch. “Howard called the other day.”
    “He did? What did he want?”
    They both knew Howard Krozer never called for idle chit chat. “He told me I
    missed my extended deadline.”
    “That bastard.”
    “He wasn’t happy about it.” She hesitated and then asked the question that had
    plagued her since his call. “Do you think he’d really give away my identity?”
    Peter put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Don’t let Howard