Sighing audibly, Lizzie pushed her glass away from theedge of the counter and slid off the stool. She sat at the table in the chair she had vacated earlier and eyed the root beer fizzy her mother had not finished. “May I have a taste of yours?”
“A sip,” Lily said firmly. She lowered her glass in front of Lizzie so her daughter could easily find the straw. Lizzie quickly stole two sips before she looked up and revealed her most impish grin. “You are the very devil,” said Lily.
“I thought Ham was the very devil.”
“He’s not here, so it’s you.”
Lizzie was not at all disturbed to hear this. She looked over at Roen. “I’m the very devil.”
“Seems that way.”
Her eyes fell on his half-finished drink. “May I have a taste of yours?”
Lily intervened. “Lizzie. You forget your manners. No, you may not have any of Mr. Shepard’s drink.”
Roen shrugged helplessly. “Your mother says no.” When Lily cast a narrow, accusing look his way, he said, “I would have told you no even if your mother hadn’t.”
Lizzie was disappointed but resigned. “Can we go to Mrs. Fish’s now?”
“You read my mind,” said Roen. He removed some coins from his jacket pocket and placed them on the table. “Shall we?” He rose, helped Lizzie down from her chair, and then stood at Lily’s side while she rose. “Thank you, Dolly,” he called over his shoulder as they exited. When they’d reached the boardwalk, Lizzie separated herself and skipped ahead. “Well?” he said to Lily. “That wasn’t so terrible, was it?”
“It isn’t over.” She lifted her chin to indicate a figure farther down the walk. “That’s Mr. Hennepin sweeping in front of the mercantile. And across the street, Maxwell Wayne just stepped out of the bakery. His bones reliably predict the weather, but right now he’s more interested in us than he is in the change in air pressure. We’re coming up on the butcher shop. There will be people in there. There always are, and they’ll see us through the front window. Do you begin to comprehend my concern?”
“I’m not sure. What do you imagine people will be whispering?”
“Whispering? That’s too subtle for some folks. They’ll be saying I’m taking up with you.”
“Are you?”
“No!”
“You seem firm on that.”
Lily gritted her teeth. “I am.”
“Then they’ll figure that out. It’s not the end of the world.”
“No, merely the end of my reputation.” She greeted Mr. Hennepin as they passed the mercantile and paused long enough to exchange pleasantries.
“That was brave of you to step up that way,” Roen said once they were out of earshot. “The way you explained it to me, I fully expected him to call you a Jezebel.”
“How old are you, Mr. Shepard? I ask because you put me in mind of Clay, and as you know, he’s twelve.”
“Ah. Not a compliment, then. I’m twenty-nine.”
“So I have five years and four children on you. I suppose that’s why my perspective on life is more serious than yours.”
“I don’t find everything amusing.”
“Then it’s me.”
“Sometimes it is.”
“Well, at least that’s honest.” She waved to Maxwell Wayne across the street. He waved back and then slipped inside his bakery. “What do you take seriously?”
“My calculations.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
