baby from harm. Madonna was not one to share her thoughts or emotions, so it surprised everyone (but Diederik) when she said, “I am sure ready for someone to come in to manage the Gas N Go, someone permanent, so Teacher can be here to help me more.”
After they’d absorbed this, Joe said, “He hasn’t heard from the owners?”
“Oh, he has,” she said, pouring more iced tea from the jug. “But they keep saying no one wants the job permanently, even though it’ll come with the house, which the owners rented to . . . the previous family.”
None of them wanted to talk about the previous manager of the filling station/store. Or his kids.
When their food came, Diederik ate every scrap on his plate. Therewas no conversation once the food was in front of him; he consumed it with single-minded concentration. He only paused to raise a hand to greet Fiji, who’d come in to pick up her lunch to take back to her shop. After he’d wiped his mouth with his napkin, as he saw the others doing, he seemed to be thinking hard about something.
“This is a good place,” Diederik said suddenly. “Why is it hard to find someone who would live here?”
“We like it here just fine,” Joe said. “But I guess, for a lot of people, there’s just not enough going on, and they don’t like to drive to Davy or even farther to do their serious shopping.”
“But there are wide-open spaces, and you can see people coming. And there aren’t many peoples,” Diederik said, sweeping his arm to indicate the vastness of the country around them. His accent became more pronounced, and Joe tried to figure it out. But he hadn’t traveled much. He glanced at Chuy, who gave a tiny shrug. Chuy didn’t know, either. “That’s wonderful. It’s safer.”
Fiji looked worried at the inference that Diederik was used to living in danger, but she didn’t speak. Joe gave her an approving smile. He liked Fiji for her warm heart, but at the same time, it was what occasionally made her indiscreet.
It was a good moment for Bobo to come in, the sun lighting up his hair like a halo, an irony that made Joe smile. Diederik smiled when Bobo entered, too; everyone did, especially Fiji. It was the charm of the man, and Joe was sure that charm would last until Bobo was old, if he was fortunate enough to live that long.
“The reporters are getting bored hanging around Manfred’s, and some of them are heading this way,” Bobo said.
Diederik looked from one adult to the other, trying to figure out if he should be scared. Joe said, “Diederik, we’re going to leave out the back door and drive to Davy. Have you ever had ice cream?”
The boy shook his head. “What is it?”
“Something really good,” Fiji said. “You’re going to have a great time.”
“Explain to the Rev,” Joe told Chuy. “Okay, buddy, here we go!” He extended a hand to the boy, and Diederik took it without hesitation. They made their way through the kitchen, with a wave to Madonna, and then they were outside. Joe and the boy walked back to the street, peering around the corner of Home Cookin until the little gaggle of reporters went inside. Then they crossed Witch Light Road and walked to the parking area behind the store to climb into Joe’s truck. Diederik buckled his seat belt without Joe saying a word, and in short order they were headed north on the Davy highway.
Joe smiled at the boy. “I think you’re really going to like ice cream,” he said, and he was right.
10
T he next day, Olivia turned onto Old Pioneer Street, which lay in the heart of Bonnet Park. Most of the houses on Old Pioneer had been built in the sixties and seventies, or earlier. They were positioned strategically on narrow, deep lots, and all had well-established lawns and plantings. Though many had been renovated, refurbished, and repaired, they had one thing in common: They were sizable, and they made a statement.
Eyeing the numbers on the brick pillar mailboxes, Olivia turned into the
After they’d absorbed this, Joe said, “He hasn’t heard from the owners?”
“Oh, he has,” she said, pouring more iced tea from the jug. “But they keep saying no one wants the job permanently, even though it’ll come with the house, which the owners rented to . . . the previous family.”
None of them wanted to talk about the previous manager of the filling station/store. Or his kids.
When their food came, Diederik ate every scrap on his plate. Therewas no conversation once the food was in front of him; he consumed it with single-minded concentration. He only paused to raise a hand to greet Fiji, who’d come in to pick up her lunch to take back to her shop. After he’d wiped his mouth with his napkin, as he saw the others doing, he seemed to be thinking hard about something.
“This is a good place,” Diederik said suddenly. “Why is it hard to find someone who would live here?”
“We like it here just fine,” Joe said. “But I guess, for a lot of people, there’s just not enough going on, and they don’t like to drive to Davy or even farther to do their serious shopping.”
“But there are wide-open spaces, and you can see people coming. And there aren’t many peoples,” Diederik said, sweeping his arm to indicate the vastness of the country around them. His accent became more pronounced, and Joe tried to figure it out. But he hadn’t traveled much. He glanced at Chuy, who gave a tiny shrug. Chuy didn’t know, either. “That’s wonderful. It’s safer.”
Fiji looked worried at the inference that Diederik was used to living in danger, but she didn’t speak. Joe gave her an approving smile. He liked Fiji for her warm heart, but at the same time, it was what occasionally made her indiscreet.
It was a good moment for Bobo to come in, the sun lighting up his hair like a halo, an irony that made Joe smile. Diederik smiled when Bobo entered, too; everyone did, especially Fiji. It was the charm of the man, and Joe was sure that charm would last until Bobo was old, if he was fortunate enough to live that long.
“The reporters are getting bored hanging around Manfred’s, and some of them are heading this way,” Bobo said.
Diederik looked from one adult to the other, trying to figure out if he should be scared. Joe said, “Diederik, we’re going to leave out the back door and drive to Davy. Have you ever had ice cream?”
The boy shook his head. “What is it?”
“Something really good,” Fiji said. “You’re going to have a great time.”
“Explain to the Rev,” Joe told Chuy. “Okay, buddy, here we go!” He extended a hand to the boy, and Diederik took it without hesitation. They made their way through the kitchen, with a wave to Madonna, and then they were outside. Joe and the boy walked back to the street, peering around the corner of Home Cookin until the little gaggle of reporters went inside. Then they crossed Witch Light Road and walked to the parking area behind the store to climb into Joe’s truck. Diederik buckled his seat belt without Joe saying a word, and in short order they were headed north on the Davy highway.
Joe smiled at the boy. “I think you’re really going to like ice cream,” he said, and he was right.
10
T he next day, Olivia turned onto Old Pioneer Street, which lay in the heart of Bonnet Park. Most of the houses on Old Pioneer had been built in the sixties and seventies, or earlier. They were positioned strategically on narrow, deep lots, and all had well-established lawns and plantings. Though many had been renovated, refurbished, and repaired, they had one thing in common: They were sizable, and they made a statement.
Eyeing the numbers on the brick pillar mailboxes, Olivia turned into the
Similar Books
