Chapter Fourteen
Over the next few weeks, Anki’s disposition improved. Willa still noticed some of the old, worrisome symptoms of depression—slipping into periods of silence, separating herself from others, skipping meals, pacing instead of sleeping—but it seemed, on the surface, anyway, that she was making a sincere effort to climb out of the dark hole she’d dug for herself. Either that, or her acting skills could put Hollywood stars to shame.
Much as she wanted to, Willa hadn’t been able to share what was going on with Max, because lately, she’d only seen him in passing. Dan explained his absence by telling her Max had been putting in long, hard hours to iron out the wrinkles between planners, developers, and Frostburg’s Allegheny County officials. “I would carry half that load,” he’d said, “but I do not have Max’s people skills. He is much better suited to the job.”
Silently, Willa had agreed. She could picture Max dealing with decision makers who felt college degrees and brass nameplates gave them carte blanche to intimidate a simple Amish contractor. By now, he’d taught them an unforgettable lesson: One quiet man could say more with simple honesty and know-how than they could with fancy words and bullying tactics.
“It will soon be Thanksgiving,” Anki said.
Willa was surprised that she’d noticed, let alone mentioned it. “Do you think we should have a big dinner?”
“Of course. It is a perfect day to give thanks for our many blessings.”
“A turkey and stuffing, then? And pumpkin pies?”
“Of course!” Anki repeated. “We have many things to be grateful for.”
Willa waited, wondering what things. Instead of answering the unasked question, Anki said, “Do you believe we really could reopen my shop, come spring?”
Now, it was Willa who said, “Of course!” Hearing the word “we” pleased her.
“Will you go there with me, so we can see how much work we are facing?”
She thought of everything on today’s to-do list: afternoon hours at the clinic, taking the CNA practice exam, laundry, helping Dan out by shoveling a path to the woodpile, meals ...
“How about this morning, after I put Frannie down for her nap? I’ll bring the baby monitor out there, a tablet and a pencil, and write down everything we’ll need to do. That way, we can tackle one or two things a day without stressing ourselves out. And who knows ... while we’re there, you might find a few things to give as Christmas gifts ... save yourself the bother of making or buying stuff.”
“You are the only one in danger of stressing out.” Anki rolled her eyes. “If only I had half your energy!”
More desperation than energy, Willa thought, and you don’t want that! She was motivated by a desire to make a better life for Frannie. For herself. For Dan and Anki. She hadn’t told anyone about what she hoped to do, come spring. Every time she looked at the bottom line on her bank statement, it seemed more and more as if she could make her dream come true.
“Did I tell you that Emily invited us to share Thanksgiving at their house?”
Anki’s reaction was hard to read, so she added, “I wanted to run it by you and Dan before saying yes or no. What do you think?”
“I suppose it might be nice.”
“It’ll give us a chance to see the big addition Max built for them. Although Emily talks about it so much, I can almost see it in my mind!”
“She should not boast. It is sinful.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply she brags. More like ... ‘Gabe loves looking out his window,’ and ‘Rafe sleeps more soundly in a room of his own.’”
Emily had shared her excitement about another important addition to their home, but Anki had been doing so well lately that Willa was afraid that mentioning it would move her backward.
“I’m planning to drive into town tomorrow—if this weather holds—and buy some of what we’ll need for our part of the dinner. I offered to make the turkey and stuffing, plus a lot of other stuff. Why don’t you come with me?”
“What time tomorrow?”
“Early. You know how the stores are on Saturdays!”
“We will see . . .”
In other words, if Anki woke up in a half-decent mood, there was a chance she’d tag along.
“I hope Dan gets home before I leave for the clinic, so I can ask how he feels about dinner at the Bakers’.”
“He will not mind. Tell her we will be there.” Anki paused, sent Willa a sidelong glance. “Did Emily invite Max, too?”
“I’m sure she did. He and Phillip are closer than some brothers.”
Tidying the folds of her skirt, Anki smiled. “It will be a perfect day to tell Max how you feel.”
“Maybe . . .”
“Ma-a-ay-be-e-e,” Frannie copied. “Ma-a-ay-be-e-e!”
“Just look at you,” Willa said, wiping bits of cheese and egg from Frannie’s face, “wide awake and rarin’ to go. I’m afraid morning naps will soon be a thing of the past.”
“She is growing quickly,” Anki observed.
Willa hoisted the baby from the chair. “Thanks to you and Dan, who provided a safe haven during one of the most difficult times in our lives.”
Anki waved off the comment. “As Dan always says, you more than earn your keep around here. A little bit of me selfishly hopes you and Max never marry, because then you will leave me.” Flushing slightly, she quickly tacked on, “I mean us.”
Willa didn’t have the heart to tell her that, first thing this spring, she planned to move into the Yoders’ second house. During a routine exam of the couple’s youngest grandson, she’d learned about the rental, and let it be known that she’d like nothing better than to become a tenant. Mrs. Yoder had made it clear that she’d like nothing better, saying, “I know you will care for the house as if it were your very own. Our last tenant was not so reliable!” Willa had offered a deposit, which Hope flatly refused: “You will need that money for furniture, because the place is as empty as the Hershbergers’ heads!”
“When will you take your nursing test?”
“The week before Christmas. And boy, do I have the collywobbles!”
Anki’s eyes opened wide. “The . . . the what?”
Laughing, Willa explained. “It was something my grandfather used to say when anyone was scared or nervous. I looked it up once, and its origins go back to the days of cholera epidemics, when people would hold their stomachs as the symptoms began.”
“A very funny word for a very serious condition.”
Willa wrinkled her nose. “I suppose you’re right. I won’t use it again.” She looked heavenward. “No disrespect, Gramps.”
“Nap?” Frannie asked.
“Well, will wonders never cease!” Taking the little girl out of the high chair, Willa told Anki, “I’ll only be a few minutes. Are your snow boots down here? Or should I get them from your closet?”
“Why would they be here, when I never go outside?”
Willa chose to ignore the cranky question, and at the top of the stairs, whispered into Frannie’s hair, “Promise me you’ll always take the advice of doctors, because it’d break my heart to see you sliding up and down the mood scale, like Anki.”
“Anki?” Frannie said as Willa eased her out of the terry-cloth romper. “Anki nap?”
Reaching for a fresh diaper, Willa shook her head. “No, sweetie, today Anki will help Mama work.”
“Wo’k. F’annie wo’k?”
Leaning into the crib, she rubbed noses with the baby. “If you take a nice long nap, I’ll teach you to roll socks into a ball. How’s that!”
Clapping, Frannie said, “Baw!”
Willa pictured the tidy parlor as it would look once Frannie started tossing balled-up socks around the room, laughing as she helped her lie flat. Then she rolled down the window shade, pulled the quilt up to the baby’s chin, grabbed the baby monitor’s receiver, and tiptoed from the room.
Just as she entered the kitchen, Dan walked through the back door.
“Where is your print cartridge?” Anki wanted to know.
He must have been thinking, “What, no hello, good to see you, husband,” because he looked slightly miffed. True to his nature, Dan sloughed it off and said, “I stopped at the trailer on the way home, threw out the old one, replaced it with the new one.”
Willa dropped the receiver into her apron pocket and reached into the narrow drawer in the rolling cart and withdrew a pencil and tablet. “When did you last eat, Dan?”
“Breakfast.”
“Let me fix you a sandwich, and then Anki and I are going to the shop.”
Now, he looked genuinely surprised. “Anki’s shop?”
“Mmm-hmm. To see how much needs to be done before she can open it, come spring.”
He met his wife’s eyes. “This was your idea?”
“No, Willa suggested it. And I decided . . .” She shrugged one shoulder. “. . . warmer weather is a long way off, so why not go along with it?”
From her vantage point at the counter, Willa could see them, and wondered who’d speak next. Dan, if she had to guess.
But it was Anki who said, “You are getting muddy snow all over the floor.”
Looking down, he grimaced. “Sorry, Willa. Let me hang up my coat and I will sop up the mess.”
“It’s all right. I’ll take care of it.” She slid the sandwich onto the table, and he took his seat. And as she filled a mug with hot black coffee, Willa said, “Where’s Max working today?”
“He’s in Cumberland, checking on the Lover’s Leap cabins.”
She stooped to blot up the muddy mess. “I guess it’s a good thing he pushed the crew so hard and got everything under roof before the snowstorm.”
“It is a good thing.” He bit into the sandwich, and chuckling, said, “A real forward thinker, that Max of yours.”
That Max of yours? It was growing more frustrating by the day that everyone—Bishop Fisher, Emily and Phillip, Anki and Dan—thought of them as a couple. Everyone, that is, except for Max and Willa.
“Emily wants to know if we’ll join them for Thanksgiving dinner at their house.”
“I will eat here or there or anywhere,” he said, and followed it up with a swig of coffee.
It sounded an awful lot like he’d picked up a few things, listening to her read Dr. Seuss to Frannie. She didn’t know whether the “no children” problem originated with Dan or Anki—and since Anki refused to be tested, they probably never would—but in Willa’s opinion, he’d be a great dad. Not as good as Max, but ...
“Is it all right if I take Anki out back now? I need to put in a few hours at the clinic once Frannie wakes up from her nap.”
“Sure, sure.” He polished off the sandwich and washed it down with the last of the coffee. “I have a few things to do, and then maybe I will join you.”
Willa helped Anki into her jacket. “You’ll definitely want to wear your snow boots. I shoveled paths, but not from here to the shed.”
Unless she was mistaken, Anki was about to change her mind. All because she’d have to walk a quarter of a mile through six inches of snow.
“I’ll go out first,” she said, buttoning up her own jacket, “and clear the way.” Tugging a woolen cap onto her head, Willa added, “You’ll still need those boots, because I can’t go all the way down to the grass. Not without disturbing the roots.”
Dan leaned both elbows on the table, no doubt waiting to see how his wife would respond. Fearing his reaction might reflect the disapproval in his eyes, Willa said, “Next spring, I’ll get the wheelbarrow and gather up every flat stone I can find, and use them to make a proper path to connect the house to the shop.” She wiggled her fingers into mittens that matched her hat. “It’ll make it easier for you to get back and forth, Anki. Easier for your customers, too.”
“I like the idea. We have pavers behind the trailer,” Dan said. “When the snow melts, I will bring them here, and help you put them down.” He glanced at Anki, and grasping her hand, said, “I am sure you would like to help. It will be good exercise. And when we finish, you will be happy for all the hard work.” He aimed a beefy forefinger at the ceiling. “And every time you follow it back and forth, you will be happy again, that you did not track mud into the house or the shop.”
Seeing his excitement made Willa happy. Unfortunately, Anki didn’t seem to agree. She’d sunk low in her chair and, arms crossed over her chest, stared at her hands, clutched on the table.
“You stay put, Anki. We can visit the shop anytime. It isn’t like the snow will melt anytime soon. And if what’s out there already is any indicator, we’ll see more of the same before the robins start singing in the trees.” Be quiet, Will, she told herself. Why are you babbling like a ninny? “We’ll have plenty of time to see what’s what out there and get everything done long before the tourists start making their way up the mountain.” She looked at Dan, hoping to see that he agreed. Looked at Anki when he didn’t. “Right?”
Flustered, Willa fumbled with her parka’s zipper. “Stupid mittens,” she muttered, jerking them from her hands. She wriggled out of the coat, stuffed the gloves in the right pocket, the hat in the left, and jammed it on its hook. Why, oh why did she feel so helpless where Anki was concerned? She’d been so careful not to say or do anything that might upset her. And just when Willa thought it was safe to relax ...
“I’ll be in the basement, folding clothes.” She didn’t wait for a reply, but hurried down the stairs. At the bottom, Willa pulled the chain that lit the big bare bulb that flooded the laundry area with light. “You have studying to do,” she complained under her breath. “Yet here you are, refolding towels.” She’d stuff them into a basket and carry them upstairs . . . if it didn’t require passing Dan and Anki in the kitchen.
At least she’d remembered the baby monitor’s receiver. Reaching into her pocket, she stared at the arc of tiny red lights. Then, holding it near her ear, she listened to the sounds of her baby girl. Frannie’s steady breaths were reassuring, and eyes closed, she concentrated on that, instead of Anki’s chaotic behavior.
“You aren’t being fair,” she muttered, re-pocketing the receiver. For the past few weeks, Anki had behaved like every other woman her age. It was wrong, unreasonable, to jump to the conclusion that, for a moment or two, she’d regressed.
Something the bishop had said during their last lesson came to mind, a verse that he claimed had always comforted him: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous . . . do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you . . .”
These past few weeks had been blissfully calm. Her greatest challenge had been choosing between roasting a chicken or baking a ham for the Hofmans’ supper. None of the clinic’s patients had been seriously ill. Her savings account balance made her believe she could make it on her own. But she’d selfishly allowed Anki to fool her, because believing in the positives was easier than dealing with the negatives. If she’d been that wrong about Anki, had she been wrong about everything else ... such as her ability to live on her own? To pass the CNA exam? Earn her right to baptism with a full confession? Give in to the love she felt for Max by making a full confession to him? For the first time since moving to Pleasant Valley, where she’d felt safe and whole, Willa was afraid. Do not be afraid, she repeated. Burying her face in a fluffy towel, she willed herself not to cry.
“Why are you smelling the laundry?”
Startled, she whirled around, and looked into Max’s smiling face. His expression grew concerned, though, when he met her eyes.
He closed the gap between them in three long strides. “Willa, what is wrong?”
Oh, how she wanted to lean into him, absorb his warm strength. “Nothing. Really. Too much thinking.”
“About . . . ?”
She risked a quick glance toward the stairs, where the light from the kitchen spilled down like a golden runner. In all the months she’d been here, Willa had never paid attention to whether or not voices traveled up the steps. She was afraid again, this time that Anki might be able to hear. “Just . . . things.”
Hands on her shoulders, he said, “Dan is in the parlor and she is upstairs. You can talk to me.”
“Really. It’s nothing. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”
He tucked in his chin. “You realize it is barely past noon, right?”
His way of telling her that it would be hours before she could escape into the rest she craved?
If he kept standing there, looking concerned, offering comfort, she’d burst out crying. And only the good Lord knew what secrets she’d divulge if that happened!
“I was going to help Anki in her shop. Well, not help her today. We were planning to go inside, make a list of things that need to be done, so we can get them done this winter, and she can get back to business next spring. You know ... things like cleaning. Painting. Rearranging display shelves. Restocking . . .”
Max laid a finger over her lips, halting her rapid-fire flow of words. When he removed it, she continued with, “I misjudged her behavior. She seemed so ... so normal these past few weeks. Talking. Smiling. Laughing, even! But . . .” Willa shook her head. “She . . . I was just ... Anki fooled me, because I let her. Because ... because I was so fixated on my own petty problems . . . because selfish woman that I am—”
“Willa, you are many things, but selfish is definitely not one of them.”
What did that mean ... you are many things . . . ? Was he referring to her history? Her unwed mother status? Or that before her pregnancy, she’d been an addict?
“You are stubborn. You can be demanding, and a little silly sometimes. Now and then, you talk too much, and too fast. But selfish?” Tilting his head slightly, he wrapped a curl around his forefinger. “No. That you are not.”
“Max, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“You have?”
He let go of the curl, combed his fingers through her hair. Hairpins clinked to the floor as he loosened her bun. He was different today. Bolder. More confident. Fearless. Was he aware how much she needed those things right now?
“This something . . . it has been on your mind for a while?”
“Almost from the day we met.”
Tilting his head again, he took a step closer, flashed a crooked, mischievous grin. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to make me guess?”
A Ben Franklin quote came to mind, and Willa decided not to put it off a moment longer ...
“I’ve wanted to tell you, so many times, but I needed to be sure, because—”
“So this is where you disappeared to!”
Willa peered over Max’s shoulder, and seeing Anki’s stern expression, moved away from him.
“We need to put a bell around your neck,” he said. “You are quiet as a cat.”
Willa checked the receiver, and satisfied that it was working and Frannie was all right, said, “Are you okay?”
“I have changed my mind. I would like to go to the shop.”
To fill her request, Willa needed to race upstairs, get into her winter gear, and shovel a walkway. If she’d done it earlier, both the path and the inspection would be complete by now.
“When you didn’t want to go out into the snow, we decided to do it tomorrow, right?”
The furrows in Anki’s brow deepened. “Oh. I did not realize it had been decided.” Hitching up her skirt, she planted one foot on the bottom step. “Will we still go to town? After we visit the shop?”
“Yes, sure!” It would mean burning the midnight oil tonight, and again tomorrow, to make up for time lost from studying for her exam, but Willa would agree to just about anything to lift Anki’s spirits. “We’ll get outside early—it’ll only take a few minutes to make our list—and once the shopping is done, we’ll have lunch at Shorthorn’s. The Yoders told me they make a mean burger platter.”
“I have never been fond of burgers.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s something on the menu you’ll like!”
“Very well,” Anki said, and continued up the stairs.
Once she was out of sight, Max pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her temple. “No wonder you are a nervous wreck.” Another kiss, and then, “Just the other day, she was smiling, laughing, participating in the conversation, and now?” A raspy sigh escaped his throat. “I am sorry, Willa. I know how hard this is for you.”
“Not nearly as hard as it is for Dan. And Anki!”
He leaned back, looked deep into her eyes, and said, “I have something to tell you, too. But I do not want to rush through it.”
“After supper tonight, maybe?”
“I will be in town tonight, having dinner with the man we’re building the Lover’s Leap cabins for.”
“Ah. Mr. Mysterious.” Willa unconsciously smoothed his shirt’s button placket. “Dan must be so pleased. You’ve pretty much single-handedly doubled your business in just a few months.” Suddenly conscious of her wifely gesture, she snapped back her hand. And smiling up at him, added, “You’re a remarkable guy, you know that?”
“I have been called many things, but never that,” he said.
She could tell that he didn’t agree, not because the Amish didn’t believe in basking in praise, but because conceitedness simply wasn’t part of his character.
“I know how the Amish feel about compliments of any kind, but Max, you deserve to see yourself through my eyes, at least when we’re alone. And in my eyes, you’re strong and tall and handsome enough to inspire great artists to paint your portrait.”
His lips parted, no doubt to stop her, but Willa wouldn’t allow it. “You have the most amazing eyes, bluer than the sky.” Ever so gently, she drew a fingertip across his long lashes, inspiring a quiet chuckle. “And a beautiful smile. I can’t decide which captivates me more.”
“Willa, please stop. Women look beautiful when they blush. But me?” Chuckling, he shook his head. “I’ll just look foolish.”
“No, you stop. You need to know how extraordinary you are.”
He was laughing when he said, “Oh, I do, do I?”
“Yes, you do. I was a mess when you came down here. On the verge of tears. Afraid. Worried. Confused. And when I saw you, all of it . . .” She snapped her fingers. “All of it was gone, just like that.”
Max bobbed his head, looking embarrassed and ill at ease. Just say it, Will. Why wait until tomorrow to tell him how you feel?
“I don’t know how else to say this except to just—”
“Max,” Dan hollered down the stairs, “that mutt of yours is barking up a storm out there in your truck.”
“Oh man! I forgot all about him. I will be right up,” he called back. Then, facing Willa, Max walked toward the steps. “I had only planned to stop by and say a quick hello. He has been cooped up in that cab since before dawn. I need to take him home, then get back to Cumberland.”
“Oh, poor Rascal. He’s probably hungry. Or needs to do his business.” And maybe he’s just lonely for you. Willa knew how miserable that could make a body!
“Tomorrow, can we pick up where we left off?”
“Absolutely. Drive safely. And good luck with Mr. Mystery!”
“Enjoy your afternoon . . .”
And then, just like that, he was gone.
Willa couldn’t say whether or not her clinic hours would be enjoyable, but she knew this:
She’d spend every spare moment asking God to send a sign ... would He bless a union between her and Max? If so, she’d ask Him to prevent all future interruptions, and bless her with the courage to finally tell Max that she loved him.
* * *
While Willa loaded groceries into the truck, Frannie and Anki waited in the cab. Thanks to below-freezing temperatures, the perishables would be safe until they’d finished lunch. After parking out back, Willa led the way into Beula’s and chose a table facing the front windows. No sooner had she buckled Frannie into a fifties-style Formica high chair than the baby pointed at the model train chugging along a track that hung near the diner’s ceiling.
“See the train?” Willa said.
Anki surprised them both by leaning forward and saying, “Choo-choo! Choo-choo!”
The baby liked that and did her best to copy it. “Too-too! Too-too!”
“Close enough,” Willa said, laughing. The moment was bittersweet, because at the rate Frannie was going, she’d be reading the big letters on the boxcars’ sides anytime now.
The waitress handed them menus and gave Frannie three fat crayons. She used one to draw a big smiley face, right in the middle of the tray. “Now you do it, cutie-pie!” she said. She looked at Willa and added, “I’ll be back in a minute to take your orders.”
Anki hadn’t even opened her menu, and Willa stifled a frustrated sigh. “They serve breakfast here all day. How about pancakes or waffles?”
“All right. Waffles.”
“With bacon or sausage?”
“Sausage. And hash browns. Coffee, too.”
If Anki ate half of it, Willa would be surprised, but she sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward that the woman had at least seemed interested in eating.
When the waitress returned, she carried two coffeepots. “Regular or decaf?”
Willa stood the white ceramic mugs upright on their saucers. “Regular, just black, thanks.” Then she ordered for Anki, adding, “I’ll have the same, with chocolate milk for the baby.”
“Gotcha. Back in a jiffy.” The girl snapped her gum and hurried away.
“Looks like more snow on the way,” Anki said, staring out the window.
Willa followed her line of vision, to where snow glowed bright bluish-white on the mountaintops. A thick stand of evergreens blanketed the lower elevations, and the low-hanging clouds cast ghostly gray shadows on the ragged cliffs.
“Oh, Anki, isn’t it just beautiful!”
“I suppose.”
“Mama!” Frannie said, and Willa leaned over to admire zigzagging lines of blue, red, and yellow that crisscrossed the white plastic tray.
“Frannie! It’s so pretty!”
Pointing at each crayon, she identified the colors, and with no prompting whatever, the baby said, “Boo? Wed? Dallow?”
“That’s right! Aren’t you a smarty!”
As Anki continued staring into the steely sky and Frannie went back to doodling, Willa sipped her coffee and tried to visualize the trial exam paper she’d filled out last night. Eyes closed, she tried to recall topics that would be included in the test: nutrition, hygiene, psychosocial care, hands-on clinical skills such as recording blood pressure, assisting patients with bedpans and hand-washing . . .
“Who is that man?”
Again, Willa followed Anki’s gaze, this time to the parking lot, where a blue-jeaned man leaned casually against the grille of a mud-spattered SUV. The wind whipped through his hair, tangling greasy-looking brown strands with his scruffy beard. It carried away hazy wisps from his brown-filtered cigarette, too.
“It looks like he is staring right at us,” Anki said.
He propped mirrored aviator sunglasses onto the bill of a soiled Orioles cap and squinted into the smoke. “My goodness,” Willa whispered, “it does look that way, doesn’t it?”
“Do you know him?”
“No.” But he reminded her of every emaciated addict who had worked for Joe. Alice had told her that like most cities these days, Oakland had its share of drug problems. Unlike other similar towns, the social worker had stressed, it offered several top-notch rehab centers.
“He is making me nervous.”
The waitress arrived just then, balancing two overloaded plates on one forearm, and carrying a lidded soft drink cup in her free hand. “Chocolate milk, just for you, cutie-pie! Brought you a little spoon, too,” she said, putting both on the tray.
Frannie looked from the spoon to her drawing to the drink, and the waitress said, “Can’t decide which to grab first, huh?”
Anki, frowning, nodded toward the window. “Who is that man in the parking lot?”
Bending her knees, the waitress peered outside. “Never saw the creep before in my life.” Straightening, she added, “Thank goodness!”
Suddenly, he flicked the cigarette to the blacktop and crushed it underfoot. Pulling up his jacket collar, he pocketed his hands and sauntered away.
“Yeah. No kidding,” Willa agreed.
Anki picked at her waffles, but Frannie ate with gusto. Willa poked at her meal, but only ate a few bites. She couldn’t get her mind off the way that man had so boldly stared at them. Stop being a big scaredy-cat, she told herself. He probably just didn’t want to smoke in his car. Besides, the radio DJ had warned listeners to bundle up, because today’s high temps wouldn’t reach twenty-five. “And if you factor in the wind chill,” he’d added, “it’ll feel more like seventeen!” Surely by now the stranger had found someplace warm and out of the wind.
After paying the tab, she bundled Frannie up and made sure Anki had buttoned her coat, then led the way back to Li’l Red . . . searching right and left as they crossed the parking lot. If she saw that man again, she’d march right back into the diner and ask someone to call the police. Who knows . . . you might prevent a purse snatching or a mugging!
It wasn’t until she backed out of the parking space that she spotted him, this time standing between two enormous pickup trucks. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied shaking another cigarette from the red and white pack to notice her. But Willa held her breath: To get from here to the road, she needed to drive right past him. What were the chances he’d still be too distracted to see that?
None, as it turned out.
He held up a cell phone, aimed it her way, and snapped a photo.
She could think of only one thing to explain why anyone would watch, then follow, then take her picture:
Joe.