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with children. He didn’t even mind the teenagers who, pushing and shoving one another, sometimes bumped into him. He felt less alone on the street. Then he’d stop at his favorite tavern, Murphy’s , for a beer or two, and by the time he got home, he’d be ready for sleep.
    But tonight it was raining. Even if he went for a walk, the streets would be empty. Absently, he flicked through a magazine. The National Geographic. Jo had given him a subscription last Christmas. It probably was about to run out. He admired the photos, which were first-class. And the printing job, of course, was the best in the world. But he wished they’d write more about things he knew instead of all those faraway places with their weird fish and birds.
    Brrrring.
    He jumped. The phone rang so seldom after business hours that it always startled him.
    â€œDad?”
    â€œJo. What’s up?”
    â€œOh, not much. I just wanted to check in—and I have a question for you.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œRemember that time I caught my finger in the Multi?”
    â€œSure. Scared me to death.” He chuckled.

    â€œWell, I have a patient here who did the same thing—with two fingers.”
    â€œOh god …”
    â€œWell, here’s my question. Do you remember how long it took for my finger to heal?”
    He frowned, trying to remember. “It was years ago. You were fifteen.” Now she was thirty-two. “About two weeks, I think. I remember I had to hire a kid to replace you in the shop.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought. Well, I’ll tell my patient he can expect to be out of work for at least two weeks.”
    â€œDoes he run his own shop?”
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œThat’s rough.”
    â€œHe has a Multi.”
    â€œNo kidding. I thought they had all hit the graveyard by now.”
    â€œIt’s not in the best shape.”
    â€œSo, how’re you doing?”
    â€œGreat.”
    â€œYou still liking the country?” His voice held a wistful note.
    â€œYes, Dad.”
    â€œI was wondering about the holidays … .” He didn’t want to plead, but he dreaded facing Thanksgiving and Christmas alone. Not that he ever had. Jo had always come through in the end. But she tended to wait until the last minute. Of course, he knew she was busy.
    â€œWe’ll get together, Dad. Either here or there. You can count on it.”
    â€œGood.” He couldn’t think of anything more to say, yet he yearned to keep her on the line. “I started the mock-up for that new catalog today.”
    â€œHow’s it going?”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWho’s setting the copy?”

    â€œLizzie.”
    â€œGod, is she still alive?”
    â€œShe’s only sixty-five, Jo,” he said reprovingly.
    â€œSorry. Seems like she’s been around forever. Well, I better go.”
    Those dreaded words. “Okay. Good to hear from you.”
    â€œBye, Dad.”
    He replaced the receiver gently, as if that would keep her on the line a little longer. Sometimes he thought he should have married again. But he’d never met anyone who could hold a candle to Jo’s mother.

CHAPTER 11
    I decided to go back to the motel before heading for the hospital. I craved a shower and a change of clothes. I cursed the slowness of my bicycle. Of all days not to have my Honda. The ride seemed interminable. As I pulled into the lot, Paul came out of the office and waved me over. “We were worried about you.”
    â€œWhy is that?”
    â€œMaggie was expecting to go to the farmers’ mar—”
    â€œOh god.” I struck my head. “I forgot.”
    â€œAn emergency, right?”
    â€œRight. Big-time,” I said truthfully.
    â€œAn accident?”
    â€œNo …” I paused, still feeling obligated to keep Max and his injury a secret. The less attention he attracted right now, the better. “Cardiac