Eliza hustled Janie and James into the car on Saturday afternoon and drove over to Demarest Farms to pick out their Halloween pumpkins. The three of them stood in the long line and waited for the hayride that took them to the patch behind the acres of apple and peach orchards. The kids searched intently for just the right pumpkins, selecting bright orange orbs they could barely carry. Afterwards, back at the big red barn, Eliza picked out an apple pie and a quart of vanilla ice cream for dessert that night.
Eliza had given a lot of thought to how she wanted to handle things with Samuel.
She was going to make dinner herself and, after Janie went to bed, quietly talk to him about everything. She hoped that they could continue their relationship as friends. She hoped he would understand. She hoped he wouldn’t be too hurt.
Mrs. Garcia had done the shopping and everything was ready for her to start cooking. Thick pork chops, sweet-and-sour red cabbage, large baking potatoes. A good, hearty fall dinner.
As she pulled the station wagon out of the crowded parking lot, Eliza noticed that the gas gauge was near empty. Mrs. Garcia had forgotten to fill the tank. Eliza steered the car toward the gas station.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Augie demanded as a preening Helene swaggered into the station office.
“You were holding out on me, Sugar.” Helene wrapped her arms around her husband’s wide girth. “I found this in the bottom of your drawer. This, and those other things. They’re beautiful, Augie. Were you going to surprise me?”
Sex or no sex, Augie verbally let loose on her.
Eliza half listened to Janie and James discuss how they were going to carve their pumpkins, but mostly she thought about Samuel as the high-test poured into the Volvo’s tank. She was staring at the doorway to the station’s office when a tall, thin blonde wearing a heavy turtleneck sweater and tight-fitting black leather pants walked out.
That’s not a happy camper, Eliza thought, looking at the sour expression on the woman’s face.
The woman passed by the car and the autumn sunlight reflected off a pin on the neck of her sweater.
Eliza went slack-jawed as she recognized the sapphire-and-diamond pin that John had bought before he died. The gift to commemorate Janie’s birth.
She grabbed a pencil and an old gas receipt from the glove compartment and scribbled down the license-plate number of the car as the woman tore out of the lot.
She handed Janie the New York Times.
“Here. You and James spread this out on the kitchen table. Then go get your markers and draw the faces you want on the pumpkins. I have to go upstairs for a minute. When I get back, we’ll carve the pumpkins. Don’t you dare go into the drawer and get the knife until I come back. Understand?”
The children nodded solemnly.
Eliza ran up to her bedroom and called the HoHoKus police.