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that I really like home improvement projects.”
    “I didn’t have you pictured as a do-it-yourselfer.”
    “What is now a ‘charming bungalow,’” she said, quirking her fingers to indicate quotes, “was a true ‘fixer-upper’ when I made the first few payments. I spent nearly all my savings on my education. It was either live in a crummy neighborhood until I got on my feet or learn to wield a hammer.”
    He laughed. “You did most of it yourself?”
    She nodded. “My sister Callie and I worked almost every weekend for a year to get everything repaired and replaced. We learned how to install hardwood floors, tile, and even new light fixtures. We became semi-professional painters after the classes we took at one of the big box stores out on the highway.”
    “How long have you lived here?”
    “Two and a half years. After I got my master’s degree, I worked for a few months in a large practice with several other counselors in Charlotte. Callie told me about the job opening at the Family Life Center. It was exactly what I was looking for: a job where I could give back to a community that’s given so much to me.”
    David fiddled with the napkin underneath his mug. When he looked up, she detected something in his face, something deep and sad. He was on the verge of saying something very important. She leaned forward in her chair.
    “The flag on your mantle—”
    Andrew picked that moment to return to the table. “Look what I won.” He pulled a long string of pink tickets from his pocket. “Can I go trade them in for my prize?”
    “Good job, buddy,” he said. He patted Andrew on the back. His eyes met hers. The hurt was still there but he was trying hard to hide it. “You should be able to get something fantastic with those.”
    “Do you want me to go to the counter with you?” She hoped Andrew would say yes. A break from the table would cut the tension, change the subject.
    “No, I can do it by myself,” Andrew said.
    “Do it quickly,” she answered. “The food should be here any minute.”
    Andrew jogged in the direction of the glass counter that lined the front of the restaurant.
    “Maddie,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Andrew was out of earshot. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
    Her heart fell. She knew what he was going to tell her. He was the same David Sterling. She’d known it from the moment he’d introduced himself. Maddie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I know you were there.”
    He nodded. “There’s no easy way to tell you how sorry I am, how responsible I feel.”
    Maddie reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. “It was a long time ago.” He didn’t move his hand. “There was no way anyone could’ve predicted that ambush.”
    “That’s the official story.” He looked down at the table and shook his head.
    “You wouldn’t have walked into that on purpose.”
    “No, but I should’ve been able to protect Frank.” He jerked his hand away and ran it across the top of his head.
    “It was war. I understand that.”
    He looked down, rubbed his face with the other hand. “I’m very sorry.”
    Maddie wanted to forgive him but she couldn’t find the words. According to every account, David had done nothing wrong. In fact, he’d been heroic in his attempts to get Frank the medical care he needed. It had been too late, but he’d tried very hard.
    She knew he wasn’t in any way responsible but she just couldn’t find the words of forgiveness. Not now. Not like this.
    All she could do was nod.
    Luckily, Paolo soon returned with a large tray. Instead of one large pizza, there were five smaller ones, the size of a personal pan pizza. He placed them in the center of the table, placed some grated parmesan cheese beside them, and refilled Maddie’s wine.
    “Buon appetito,” Paulo said.
    “These look wonderful. I expected a big, greasy pepperoni,” Maddie said, thankful to have something ordinary and easy to