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warning?
That’s
some nerve.” She scowled more darkly. “What are you smiling at?”
    “You.” I couldn’t help it. She was so familiar, so dear. “How much you talk. How
New Hampshire
you talk.”
Suddenly you show up hea without a weud of wauning
.
    “That isn’t funny.”
    “It is.” It was warm and real, enough to stop my tears. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, so people know where you stand. Do you know how refreshing that is?”
    She made a disparaging sound. “Everyone here talks like that. You used to talk like me, too, until something happened to your speech right along with your loyalty to friends.” Feature by feature, she searched my face. “You look awful. What’s wrong?”
    Where to begin? My eyes filled again, but all I could think of to say was “My car died.”
    “Your car?”
    “In front of the General Store.” Of course, I wasn’t crying over the car. Vicki Bell knew me well enough for that. She knew me as well as anyone did, which wasn’t saying a whole lot right now, but she was the last really good friend I’d had.
    She glanced warily at the door. “Where’s James?”
    “In New York. I ran away.”
    “You wouldn’t do that. You’re too responsible.”
    “I did it.”
    Her brown eyes grew larger “
Left
him?” Her eyes shot to my left hand, but my wedding band was still there. It hadn’t occurred to me to take it off. Hadn’t
occurred
to me.
    “Not left him, like maritally. I needed a break from work, the city, my life.”
    “If you’re here for Jude—”
    “I’m not.”
    “Good. We don’t know where he is. He’s never been back—and I’m not blaming you for that, he was the one who cheated—”
    “And broke up, Vicki. He didn’t want to be tied down.” I just then heard what she’d said. “You don’t know where he is?”
    “No. He cut every tie. No cards, no calls. Hasn’t been back in ten years.”
    He will be
, I thought, and wanted to say it aloud, but that would require sensitivity, picking words that would go easiest on Vicki Bell, and I just didn’t have the strength.
    Vicki studied me a minute longer. If she had questions—which, going back a ways with Vicki Bell, who was curious to the extreme, I knew she did—she was wise enough not to ask. Instead, in a gentle tone, she said, “We were just having dinner, Rob and me. Are you hungry?”
    “More tired than hungry. I need a place to sleep.”
    “When did you sleep last?”
    “Last night. For maybe an hour.” I sputtered out a half sob. “Pretty pathetic, huh? I was fine on the road, but it’s like now that I’m here, I can’t
move.
”
    Taking the bag from my shoulder, she guided me up the stairs. We passed the second flight and went to the third, where there was only one room. It had dormers front and back and skylights above, the latter the first thing Vicki had added when turning the attic into a guestroom. She called this room a little piece of heaven, and yes, when she lit a small lamp, I was vaguely aware of billowing sky and clouds, everything blue and white, but I was too weak to see more.She put my bag on a bench at the foot of the bed, pulled back a voluminous comforter, and opened the sheets.
    I sat tentatively in the space she’d made. “This could be awkward for you.”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re still angry.”
    Her frown was begrudging now. “Wouldn’t you be? You were my very best friend. I know Jude hurt you, but he hurt us, too, just vanishing. Okay, so you couldn’t talk about it—”
    “I still can’t,” I cut in by way of warning, then, softening, pleaded, “Maybe later?”
    She stared at me, sighed, and hitched her chin toward the bed. Sliding out of my flip-flops, I pulled my legs up and lay down. Once there, I didn’t move.
    Vicki must have left, because the next thing I knew, she was putting a small tray beside the bed. It held a glass of orange juice, pastries that I was sure were homemade, and a pitcher of well water.
    “Will Rob know the