Page 144 of The Woman Left Behind

Also now, Ronetta sat alone on a bench by the fountain.

Harry debated whether to get out of his cruiser, but remembering what Shane said, he did.

He walked up to her and was standing beside her before she started and peered up at him.

Tears were tracking down her face.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said quietly.

She dabbed at her cheeks with a hankie, and that almost made Harry smile, because Ronetta was the only woman he knew who carried a hankie.

“Lost in thought,” she replied.

“I can leave you to it, if you like,” he offered. “I can also stay.”

It took her a moment to decide before she patted the bench beside her.

Harry sat down.

The fountain was still gurgling. They’d turn it off soon and drain it, so the freeze wouldn’t ruin the pipes. It’d eventually be filled with pumpkins and corn stalks or some Halloween/Thanksgiving/autumn design scheme, those being replaced by Christmas decorations.

But right then, even with the traffic going by on Main Street, the sound of the water made the space tranquil.

Harry kept his eyes on it.

Ronetta did too.

“I have a very good marriage,” Ronetta shared. “God smiled down on me when He pushed George in my path. But a marriage is always a marriage.”

He knew what she was saying.

Harry’s marriage had lasted only a year before Winnie broke her neck in that fall from her horse.

In the intervening time, he’d enshrined what they had, so in his memories, every second of it was light and laughter and love.

The truth of it was, Winnie had a foul temper. She sometimes wasn’t good at communicating and was terrible with confrontation, until she was ready to explode, and then she let loose.

On his side of things, Harry got pissed she let it go so far rather than just being honest with him about shit that bothered her. So his response wasn’t remotely healthy either.

They’d been young. They’d find their way eventually. Harry knew it down to his bones.

It didn’t make their marriage any less strong or loving.

It just wasn’t perfect.

“I’m the middle, have an older brother, and a younger one,” Ronetta told him. “No sisters. Until Avery.”

Damn.

He knew it, but there it was.

He took her hand.

Her fingers curled tight.

“She loved George completely,” she went on. “So anything I could say when I complained about the little, stupid stuff, it didn’t bother her a bit. It didn’t turn her mind on George. She just listened. She was a safe place for me to let stuff go. She was a safe place for George that I could do it. I gave that same back with her and Sonny.”

Harry said nothing.

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