"Seriously?" Katie asked.
"Don't get me wrong. I like Ivan-he's a good man, and the restaurant is a fixture in this town. Kristen and Josh love the hush puppies there, and Ivan's always welcoming whenever we show up. But sometimes, I've wondered what drives him. His family arrived from Russia in the fifties. First generation, in other words. No one in his extended family has probably even heard of the Civil War. But Ivan will spend an entire weekend pointing his sword and shouting orders right in the middle of the road in front of the courthouse."
"Why have I never heard about this?"
"Because it's not something the locals like to talk about. It's kind of … eccentric, you know? Even locals, people who really like him, try to ignore him. They'll see Ivan in the middle of downtown and they'll turn away and start saying things like, Can you believe how beautiful those chrysanthemums are by the courthouse?"
For the first time since she'd been in the car, Katie laughed. "I'm not sure I believe you."
"It doesn't matter. If you're here in October, you'll see for yourself. But again, don't get me wrong. He's a nice guy and the restaurant is great. After a day at the beach, we almost always stop in there. Next time we come in, we'll ask for you."
She hesitated. "Okay."
"She likes you," Alex said. "Kristen, I mean."
"I like her. She's a bright spirit-a real personality."
"I'll tell her you said that. And thanks."
"How old is she?"
"She's five. When she starts school in the fall, I don't know what I'm going to do. It'll be so quiet around the store."
"You'll miss her," Katie observed.
He nodded. "A lot. I know she'll enjoy school, but I kind of like having her around."
As he spoke, rain continued to sheet against the windows. The sky flashed on and off like a strobe, accompanied by an almost continuous rumble.
Katie peered out the passenger-side window, lost in her thoughts. He waited, somehow knowing she would break the silence.
"How long were you and your wife married?" Katie finally asked.
"Five years. We dated for a year before that. I met her when I was stationed at Fort Bragg."
"You were in the army?"
"Ten years. It was a good experience and I'm glad I did it. At the same time, I'm glad I'm done."
Katie pointed through the windshield. "There's the turn up ahead," she said.
Alex turned onto Katie's road and slowed down. The rough gravel surface had flooded during the downpour, and water splashed up to the windows and over the windshield. As he focused on steering the car through the deep puddles, Alex was suddenly struck by the thought that this was the first time he'd been alone in a car with a woman since his wife had died.
"Which one is it?" he asked, squinting at the outline of two small cottages.
"The one on the right," she said.
He turned into the makeshift drive and pulled as close to the house as he could. "I'll bring the groceries to the door for you."
"You don't have to do that."
"You don't know the way I was raised," he said, jumping out before she could object. He grabbed the bags and ran them to her porch. By the time he set them down and began to shake off, Katie was hurrying toward him, the umbrella Alex had lent her clutched in her hands.
"Thanks," she called out over the noise of the downpour.
When she offered him the umbrella, he shook his head. "Keep it for a while. Or forever. It doesn't matter. If you walk a lot around here, you're going to need it."
"I can pay you-" she began.
"Don't worry about it."
"But this is from the store."
"It's okay," he said. "Really. But if you don't think you should, then just settle up the next time you're in the store, okay?"
"Alex, really-"
He didn't let her finish. "You're a good customer, and I like to help my customers."
It took a moment for her to answer. "Thank you," she finally said, her eyes, now dark green, fixed on his. "And thanks for driving me home."
He tipped his head. "Anytime."
What to do with the kids: it was the endless, sometimes unanswerable question he faced on weekends, and as usual, he had absolutely no idea.
With the storm in full fury and showing no signs of letting up, doing anything outside was out of the question. He could take them to a movie, but there was nothing playing that they'd both be interested in. He could simply let them entertain themselves for a while. He knew lots of parents operated that way. On the other hand, his kids were still young, too young to be left completely to their own devices. More important, they were already on their own a lot, improvising ways to keep themselves entertained, simply because of his long hours at the store. He pondered the options as he made grilled cheese sandwiches, but he soon found his thoughts drifting to Katie. While she was obviously doing her best to maintain a low profile, he knew it was almost impossible in a town like this. She was too attractive to blend in, and when people caught on to the fact that she walked everywhere, it was inevitable that talk would start and questions would be asked about her past.
He didn't want that to happen. Not for selfish reasons, but because she was entitled to the kind of life she'd come here to find. A normal life. A life of simple pleasures, the kind that most people took for granted: the ability to go where she wanted when she wanted and live in a home where she felt safe and secure. She also needed a way to get around.
"Hey, kids," he said, putting their sandwiches on plates. "I have an idea. Let's do something for Miss Katie."
"Okay!" Kristen agreed.
Josh, always easygoing, simply nodded.
7
Wind-driven rain blew hard across dark North Carolina skies, sweeping rivers against the kitchen windows. Earlier that afternoon, while Katie did her laundry in the sink and after she had taped Kristen's picture to the refrigerator, the ceiling in the living room had begun to leak. She'd placed a pot beneath the drip and had already emptied it twice. In the morning, she planned to call Benson, but she doubted whether he'd get around to repairing the leak right away. If, of course, he ever got around to fixing it at all.
In the kitchen, she sliced small cubes from a block of cheddar cheese, nibbling as she moved about. On a yellow plastic plate were crackers and slices of tomatoes and cucumbers, although she couldn't arrange them to look the way she wanted. Nothing looked quite the way she wanted. In her previous home, she'd had a pretty wooden serving board and a silver cheese knife with an engraving of a cardinal, and a full set of wineglasses. She'd had a dining room table made of cherry, and sheer curtains in the windows, but here the table wobbled and the chairs didn't match, the windows were bare, and she and Jo would have to drink wine from coffee mugs. As horrible as her life had been, she'd loved assembling the pieces of her household, but as with everything she'd left behind, she now viewed them as enemies that had gone over to the other side.
Through the window, she saw one of Jo's lights blink out. Katie made her way to the front door. Opening it, she watched as Jo splashed through puddles on the way to her house, umbrella in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Another couple of stomps and she was on the porch, her yellow slicker dripping wet.
"Now I understand how Noah must have felt. Can you believe this storm? I've got puddles all over my kitchen."
Katie motioned over her shoulder. "My leak is in the living room."
"Home sweet home, right? Here," she said, handing over the wine. "Just like I promised. And believe me, I'm going to need it."
"Rough day?"
"Like you couldn't imagine."
"Come on in."
"Let me leave my coat out here or you're going to have two puddles in your living room," she said, shimmying out of her slicker. "I got soaked in the few seconds I was out there."
Jo tossed her coat on the rocker along with the umbrella and followed Katie inside as she led the way to the kitchen.
Katie immediately set the wine on the counter. As Jo wandered to the table, Katie pulled open the drawer by the refrigerator. From the back of the drawer, she pulled out a rusted Swiss Army knife and readied the opener.
"This is great. I'm starved. I haven't eaten all day."
"Help yourself. How did it go with the painting?"
"Well, I got the living room done. But after that, it wasn't such a good day."
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you about it later. I need wine first. How about you? What did you do?"
"Nothing much. Ran to the store, cleaned up, did my laundry."
Jo took a seat at the table and reached for a cracker. "In other words, memoir material."