barreling train, even before the man finished. “Them kids were outright sold.”
Part Two
“There is nothing to fear except the persistent refusal to find out the truth.”
—Dorothy Thompson
Chapter 16
The driver sat parked along the street, his features shadowed in a shabby black car. Lily caught a glimpse from the deli’s front counter as shoppers dwindled at last. It was almost closing time on Saturday, the busiest day of the week, with customers stocking up for Sunday meals.
“Dear, would you mind?” Lily’s mother handed her a nickel and two pennies.
“Mr. Wilson?”
“Who else?”
Once again, the longtime patron had shuffled away with his weekly goods—always salami and provolone—and left his change.
Lily sprinted out the door, not bothering to remove her apron. Specks of rain dotted her arms, left bare by her short-sleeved cotton blouse. The early-evening air carried an electric scent. She caught up with Mr. Wilson a few doors down, outside Mel’s Haberdashery, where he thanked her with a bashful smile.
On her way back, she brushed her hair from her eyes, the rest pinned up for her deli work. She was about to pass the old, black Model T when the driver opened his door and stepped out.
“Lily, wait.”
She froze.
It was Ellis Reed.
He pulled off his hat and held the brim awkwardly with both hands. “I’m sorry to just show up like this.”
Her teeth clenched, as did her stomach. A week had come and gone since their bitter parting in New York, yet the lashes from his words now turned fresh and raw.
She had been absurd to ever discount Clayton for the man standing before her. Having realized this, and with Clayton busy all week at the paper, she had postponed firming her stance on the courtship front. Aside from this: she would never again let emotion squander sensibility, even at the risk of winding up alone.
“What do you want?”
“To apologize, for my behavior that night. For the cruddy stuff I said. I’d planned to say this days ago, but…some things happened…” His gaze rose to hers, and the marked sincerity in his eyes couldn’t be overlooked. Nor could his effort.
“The drive from Brooklyn,” she realized, “must be three hours.”
He gave a small shrug. “A letter wouldn’t have been enough.”
She related to the concept, more than he could possibly fathom, but she maintained her guard.
“That’s why I’m here,” he went on. “To tell you in person.”
Before she could temper a response, a pair of ladies—the town librarian and the organist from church—pardoned themselves for interrupting the conversation to pass through, abruptly reminding Lily of their surroundings.
Somehow Ellis, surely without help from Clayton, had been able to find her. Here, in Maryville. How much else did he or others know?
She moved closer before asking, “How did you know where I’d be?”
He gestured his hat in the deli’s direction. “You mentioned coming here every weekend. To help out your folks.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot.” The connection eased her a bit, yet her worlds still needed to remain separate. At least for those unworthy of her trust. “Well, I accept your apology, Mr. Reed, and I appreciate all the trouble you’ve gone to. Now, I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me.”
She started to leave, but he spoke again. “You were right, by the way. About the stories I’ve written. The things I did to get ahead…”
When his voice trailed off, she finished for him. “Like the children,” she said, “in the second picture.” She wanted to hear him say it. But he stared at her, baffled by her knowledge. “I know the kids weren’t the same, Ellis.”
His face turned heavy with regret, far more than expected.
Still, she returned to her purpose, aware of other townsfolk on the street. “Why don’t we talk more another time? Maybe when you’re back in Philly. Right now, I do need to help close up the store.”
“Of course,” he said quietly. His suit was wrinkled, his jaw unshaven. He looked as if he’d not slept in days. Their last encounter, while ill fated, couldn’t alone have been the cause.
“Mommy,” a small voice called.
Lily spun around. “Yes?”
Only then did she wince. Samuel—her precious secret—stood at the deli entrance with half a cookie in his hand. His shirt was marked with flour from baking with his grandmother. “Can I eat it? It’s extra and broke. But Gamma says I gotta ask.”
Behind Lily, astonishment was undoubtedly rolling over Ellis’s face.
“Mommy, pleeease?”
She nodded with little thought. In that moment, he could have asked for a box full of nails and she would have agreed.
Samuel burst into