squatted next to Old Red, his back to Brandon. “Why would I know that?”
“Right, I guess no one would have called to tell you.”
“I wouldn’t have answered anyway.” It pained him to imagine Annie so desperate that her best option was to marry Sean. If only William had been there to help her...
He shook his head at the thought. He’d had his own problems back then and wouldn’t have been able to offer much assistance. In fact, he would have probably caused her more harm. It was no use wondering what might have been, since she certainly didn’t have feelings for him anymore.
“How is Annie?”
William scoffed at the question. “She’s a piece of work, man.”
“Really?”
“She has it out for me—bad.”
Brandon chuckled in disbelief. “What?”
“Oh, yeah. She can’t stand the sight of me.”
“Annie? She’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”
“I have yet to meet this amazing Annie Curtis you gush about so often. The last time I saw her, I was eighteen years old.” He neglected to add and in love.
Brandon laughed. “Let’s start with what you did to her.”
“I’ve been nothing but nice to her since I got back,” William said.
“What about before that?” Brandon asked. “I’m not judging,” he quickly added when William shot him a glare. “You had to do what you had to do back then, but...”
“Yeah?”
“Some folks have a long memory.”
* * *
AFTER BRANDON LEFT, William retrieved his cell phone from the workbench and stared at it for a few minutes, pressing the button to illuminate the screen every few seconds after it had gone dark.
One new voice mail.
“Will?” his mother called from the back porch. William tucked the phone in his pocket and locked the shed for the night. With the bike finally running, he could be ready to leave by morning if absolutely necessary, though he’d be out the money for his truck.
“Yes, ma’am?” he asked, shuffling up the back porch steps.
“Would you lend a hand tomorrow? Annie’s taking the day with James.”
“I...guess. Is that really necessary?”
“It would help me out so much,” Joyce insisted. “I’m too old to pull another double shift.”
“Don’t you have anyone else to wait tables?”
“Karrin and Mia are both coming in, and Bobby agreed to pull a double shift busing. I’ve been meaning to hire on more staff, but...”
“What?”
“Coulda, shoulda, woulda, you know? That’ll teach me for putting it off.”
“Wait,” William said before Joyce could retreat inside the house. “What happened with James?”
“It was a virus. Annie’s pushing fluids and popsicles. He’ll be shipshape in a few days.”
“That was it?”
“Fevers come on quickly with little ones.”
“I guess so.”
Joyce paused and smiled. “I remember one time when we were living in Duluth, you were supposed to go out with your father to...what was that place called? Oh, yes, Mr. Twister’s. He’d promised you a frozen yogurt after dinner, and you were jumping all over the house with excitement until you left. But by the time you two had returned, you had a fever of 102 and were sicker than a dog. You spent most of the night in between us in bed.” Her gaze drifted off as she recalled the bit of nostalgia. “You were a cute kid back then, even when you were sick.” She sighed. “Good night, love.”
William strained to remember a time when his stepfather hadn’t been front and center. Once Dennis and his mother had married, she had stopped telling stories of his father, and as a result the memories had faded. She had shushed him away at first when he’d asked to hear a story, and over time he’d stopped trying.
With his mom out of earshot, he plucked his cell phone from his pocket to finally retrieve the voice mail.
“Mr. Kauffman, this is Special Agent Denver Corrigan again. I’d like to remind you that the Miller case has been reassigned to me and you are required to meet with me or risk us issuing a warrant for your arrest. You can reach me day or night at this number. Thank you.”
William deleted the voice mail on Denver’s final breath. He had no intention of ever going back, regardless of what the consequences might be. He and Old Red were rocketing west as soon as he could sell his truck and secure a little cash. If he could manage to leave Chinoodin Falls on good terms, even better.
* * *
ANNIE MET MARJORIE on the front stoop of her house.
“Thanks for coming, Margie. I need to run a few errands.”
“Is he sleepin’?”
“Watching cartoons.”
“Of course. Take your time, honey. We’ll be fine.”
“Keep the doors locked in case—”
“I know the drill, sweetie.”
There were few people in the world Annie trusted her children with, and Marjorie was one of them. “I’ll be back in a half hour,” she said.
After two days of bone broth and popsicles, James had finally developed an appetite. She intended to get him anything he wished, which at the moment was a special request for peanut butter pie and french fries.
Arriving at Pop’s Place, she hesitated when she spotted William’s truck parked in the back lot. She slipped through the door and bypassed the office, but not before catching a glimpse of William at her desk. He was pouring over papers again.
Annie kept moving.
“How’s the little guy?” Karrin asked, sidling up beside her as she fixed a take-home container. A lifelong waitress in her early forties, with silver-streaked black hair, Karrin reeked of coffee and old-time diner as she crushed Annie in a sideways hug.
“He’ll be better with some peanut butter pie. Please tell me we have some.”
“I think we have a piece left.” Karrin followed Annie to the dessert case and hung close by as she hunched over and delicately jostled the last slice of pie into a Styrofoam box. “So...have you talked to William?”
Annie
