this morning?” Win asked, trying to change the subject.
Inez tsked. “Oh, she does look like her mother, doesn’t she?”
“She certainly does.”
“Can I escort you home?” Win interrupted. “I’m headed that way.” He held out his arm, trying to herd them away.
“Her mother had a lot of nerve, sending her here,” Inez said. “What a thing to do to a child.”
Harriet shook her head. They were both staring at Emily unabashedly. “She’s never going to fit in.”
“And how is her grandfather going to take care of her? He can barely take care of himself.”
“I don’t know, Sister,” Harriet said. “I don’t know.”
Win gestured again. “Ladies, shall we?”
Inez wagged her knobby finger at him. “Don’t turn into your uncle, Win. Don’t get fooled by a pretty face like he did. What a tragedy.” The sisters looked at him pityingly. “Stare at her all you want, but stay away. That’s what we’re going to do. To show support for your family. Right, Sister?”
“It’s for the best.”
That’s when they turned and left him, walking toward home, one arm each looped into the handles of a single handbag, like a yoke between them.
Win closed his eyes for a moment before turning to Emily.
She looked unsettled and he didn’t blame her.
He put his hands in his trouser pockets and walked toward her, trying to seem casual and unaffected. “Hello again.”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes went to the Jones sisters, who were weaving down the sidewalk.
Win hated that they had been so indelicate. “Where is your grandfather? I saw him earlier,” he said, to draw her attention away from them.
“Inside,” she said. “I’m waiting for him.”
“Instead of eating with him?”
“I don’t know if he actually wants … I just thought I’d wait.” She gave him a once-over that tried to be subtle, but wasn’t. “Are you always up and dressed like that this early?”
“It’s sort of a tradition.” He indicated the bench. “May I?”
She nodded. “Where do you come from?” she asked as he sat.
He crossed his legs, trying not to seem too eager, too suspicious. Getting into someone’s good graces was second nature to him, but he was nervous. There was so much riding on this. “Here. I’m from here.”
She hesitated, as if he’d answered an entirely different question. “No, I meant yesterday and today. Where did you just come from?”
He laughed. “Oh. Breakfast with my father. Every morning.”
“Does everyone here come to Main Street for breakfast?”
“Not everyone. How is your foot?” he asked, not actually looking at her foot. Instead, he stared into her true blue eyes. She wasn’t what he’d expected. Not at all.
“My foot?”
“It looks like you scratched your heel.”
She turned her right foot slightly to see the bandaged cut. “Oh. I cut it running barefoot through the woods.”
“You should put on shoes next time.” She looked back up to see that he was smiling.
She narrowed her eyes. “Thank you. I plan to. Who were those ladies you were talking to?” she asked.
He sighed regretfully. “Inez and Harriet Jones. They’re my next-door neighbors.”
“Were they talking about me?”
He considered several different answers, but decided to go with “Yes.”
“They knew who I was,” she said. “They knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Why would they say I wouldn’t fit in?”
He shook his head. “If you had cause to worry about them, I would tell you. I promise.”
“It sounded like they didn’t like my mother.”
He picked at imaginary dust on his sleeve. He knew he looked calm, but inside, his heart was knocking against his chest. “If you want me to tell you the story, I will.” God, what was he going to say? “I think it’s better if you know. I’m not sure I should be the one, though. Your mother should have told you. At the very least, your grandfather should have said something by now.”
“About what? They mentioned your
Inez tsked. “Oh, she does look like her mother, doesn’t she?”
“She certainly does.”
“Can I escort you home?” Win interrupted. “I’m headed that way.” He held out his arm, trying to herd them away.
“Her mother had a lot of nerve, sending her here,” Inez said. “What a thing to do to a child.”
Harriet shook her head. They were both staring at Emily unabashedly. “She’s never going to fit in.”
“And how is her grandfather going to take care of her? He can barely take care of himself.”
“I don’t know, Sister,” Harriet said. “I don’t know.”
Win gestured again. “Ladies, shall we?”
Inez wagged her knobby finger at him. “Don’t turn into your uncle, Win. Don’t get fooled by a pretty face like he did. What a tragedy.” The sisters looked at him pityingly. “Stare at her all you want, but stay away. That’s what we’re going to do. To show support for your family. Right, Sister?”
“It’s for the best.”
That’s when they turned and left him, walking toward home, one arm each looped into the handles of a single handbag, like a yoke between them.
Win closed his eyes for a moment before turning to Emily.
She looked unsettled and he didn’t blame her.
He put his hands in his trouser pockets and walked toward her, trying to seem casual and unaffected. “Hello again.”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes went to the Jones sisters, who were weaving down the sidewalk.
Win hated that they had been so indelicate. “Where is your grandfather? I saw him earlier,” he said, to draw her attention away from them.
“Inside,” she said. “I’m waiting for him.”
“Instead of eating with him?”
“I don’t know if he actually wants … I just thought I’d wait.” She gave him a once-over that tried to be subtle, but wasn’t. “Are you always up and dressed like that this early?”
“It’s sort of a tradition.” He indicated the bench. “May I?”
She nodded. “Where do you come from?” she asked as he sat.
He crossed his legs, trying not to seem too eager, too suspicious. Getting into someone’s good graces was second nature to him, but he was nervous. There was so much riding on this. “Here. I’m from here.”
She hesitated, as if he’d answered an entirely different question. “No, I meant yesterday and today. Where did you just come from?”
He laughed. “Oh. Breakfast with my father. Every morning.”
“Does everyone here come to Main Street for breakfast?”
“Not everyone. How is your foot?” he asked, not actually looking at her foot. Instead, he stared into her true blue eyes. She wasn’t what he’d expected. Not at all.
“My foot?”
“It looks like you scratched your heel.”
She turned her right foot slightly to see the bandaged cut. “Oh. I cut it running barefoot through the woods.”
“You should put on shoes next time.” She looked back up to see that he was smiling.
She narrowed her eyes. “Thank you. I plan to. Who were those ladies you were talking to?” she asked.
He sighed regretfully. “Inez and Harriet Jones. They’re my next-door neighbors.”
“Were they talking about me?”
He considered several different answers, but decided to go with “Yes.”
“They knew who I was,” she said. “They knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Why would they say I wouldn’t fit in?”
He shook his head. “If you had cause to worry about them, I would tell you. I promise.”
“It sounded like they didn’t like my mother.”
He picked at imaginary dust on his sleeve. He knew he looked calm, but inside, his heart was knocking against his chest. “If you want me to tell you the story, I will.” God, what was he going to say? “I think it’s better if you know. I’m not sure I should be the one, though. Your mother should have told you. At the very least, your grandfather should have said something by now.”
“About what? They mentioned your
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