Page 43 of The Woman Left Behind

“Okay, I’ll share with you,” she decreed instantly, evidence she was either a pushover, or she was a pushover for him.

The first one he didn’t believe. Not with all she’d wrought all by herself in her thirty-five years.

The second one he’d take.

He opened the door, murmuring, “Obliged.”

“But don’t tell anyone,” she warned. “I’m famous for my fork maneuvers.

He was chuckling as they stood out on her porch, and he waited for her to lock up after them.

“Fork maneuvers?” he asked.

She glanced up at him. “As in, spearing you if you try to nab something off my plate.”

That earned more chuckles.

She locked her door and stowed her keys back in her purse.

He took her hand and guided her to his truck. He opened the door for her, helped her in, and closed it on her.

He glanced to her neighbor’s house as he moved around the hood and saw Ronetta wasn’t hiding behind a curtain anymore. She was standing in the window, arms crossed, staring at him. George was beside her.

Ronetta just stared.

George lifted two fingers to his eyes and then turned them around toward Harry.

Harry jutted his chin their way then dropped it to grin down at his boots.

The minute he got into his truck and turned the ignition, Lillian rolled her window down.

He looked to her.

She had her head out the window and was shouting, “Stop being weird!”

He burst out laughing again, but when he turned that way, he saw George disappear from the window.

Ronetta wasn’t as easily cowed.

“Roll up your window, sweetheart, it’s cold,” Harry ordered as he put the truck in gear.

She did as told.

And Harry drove them to Luigi’s.

ELEVEN

Time to Make Bread

Lillian

I woke up instantly knowing I felt refreshed…

And happy.

The second one took my attention because, as sad as it sounded, I didn’t remember the last time I felt happy.

Really, truly, genuinely happy.

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