As the van pulled away from the bakery, he picked up the brick and closed the back door, checking to make sure it latched properly. Then he headed into the front room, where Celia handed over the register to him with a tired smile. She was still weak from her bout of flu and had only come in for an hour to look after the shop while Grace and Mary prepped for today’s wedding.
Thankfully, the shop wasn’t too busy. A steady stream of customers trickled in, but there were never more than one or two in line. By about one thirty, the customers mostly stopped.
True to her word, Lily had curled up in a small bean bag in the corner behind the counter wearing a cute pink headset and happily watched movies on a tablet computer.
During a lull with no customers, he noticed a navy van drive past the shop. He wouldn’t have paid attention to it, but it slowed way down as it approached and passed by. When it cleared the shop, it sped up and drove out of sight. But not before he noted the side windows were heavily tinted so he couldn’t see the driver, and there were no markings on the van’s side. He caught a glimpse of Montana license plates but wasn’t able to read any of its numbers or letters.
Lily said from her bean bag. “Mr. Reno?”
“Yes, Ma’am?”
“Did you see a hawk outside?”
“I did not.”
“Sometimes there’s one on the lamppost.”
“Maybe it likes the smell of your mom’s pastries.”
“Hawks eat little kids who don’t behave.”
“I don’t believe that’s true. Who told you that?”
“My grandma.”
“Were you misbehaving?” he asked.
Lily tilted her head thoughtfully. “Probably.”
“I think she was trying to scare you into behaving.”
“May I draw now?” she asked.
“Of course, Munchkin. Your mommy already tore off a big piece of wrapping paper for you and showed me where your crayons are.” He set a stool beside the counter and lifted her onto it.
Reno sat down on his stool behind the counter, propped his bad leg on a second stool he’d dragged over and watched Lily’s pale blond curls as she bent over her drawing, concentrating. She really was an angelically beautiful child, all cream and pale pink with that almost white blond hair.
A rather chicken-like object took shape beneath her crayons. She added two sticks for legs and he couldn’t resist any longer and asked, “What are you drawing?”
“A hawk.”
“Nice.”
“With babies.”
“Where’s their nest?” he asked.
Her eyes lit up and she proceeded to color aggressively, making a jumble of red slashes beneath the three smaller chicken-like blobs. The end result looked more like a murder scene than a bird nest, but he kept that opinion to himself.
Instead, he asked, “Are they well-behaved baby hawks?”
“Yes.”
“They must be smart, then. They’ve figured out how much easier it is to work a little bit at behaving so they don’t have to work very hard at getting out of trouble.”
Lily looked up at him sharply. A thoughtful expression came over her face so identical to the one Grace made he had to bite back a smile.
She drew for a stretch. He watched the front. A Saturday-afternoon quiet settled over the street outside. He loosened the brace and his knee thanked him by going from a six down to a four.
