with someone nice, she wanted to say. But "You're welcome," is what she said, instead.
A pair of uniformed officers approached, alternately shouting over the clatter of TV news helicopters. "Get back into your vehicles," said the youngest one, "we're about to move y'all into the left lane and get you on your merry way."
"That's right, folks," said his partner. His right hand mirrored the left as he pointed toward the median. "C'mon, now.That's the way. Let's go."
"We'd like nothin' better than to go," muttered the grayhaired man. Fortunately, neither officer seemed to hear it when half a dozen of his fellow motorists agreed.
"I wonder where they've taken the people who were hurt," Mercy wondered aloud.
Someone said, "Hopkins, I reckon."
"Nah," a second voice said. "A mess like that? I'd bet my next paycheck they're at Shock Trauma."
"Why?" the man with the water asked her. "You planning to check up on 'em?"
His question made her face burn with a blush. "N-no, of course not. I was just hoping the emergency rooms were equipped to handle so many—"
"You've restored my faith in humanity, young lady," he said."I'll bet most of these yokels haven't even given the accident victims a thought, except to carp about being held up by the accident. I'm guilty of that, myself. If I could get my foot up that high, I'd kick myself in the bee-hind."
She smiled, even as guilt intensified the flush in her cheeks, because she hadn't asked the question out of concern for the accident victims. She'd asked because of her concern for Austin.
Mercy knew she'd better get busy—and stay that way—if she hoped to find the strength of will to keep from calling his cell phone the minute she got home.
12
H e almost wished he hadn't called Cora. Who are you kidding? he thought, because there was no "almost" about it.
On the heels of a day like this, he wanted nothing more than to head straight for the tug, stand under a hot and steady spray of water, and hope all the bad would spiral down the drain with the dirt and grit and blood. Instead, he'd showered at the station and changed into clean jeans and an Orioles T-shirt, and asked for permission to endure another two hours of misery.
Construction on I-70 slowed the drive to Cora's. And a brand-spanking new cashier at McDonald's fumbled so many orders, the manager had to take over and start everybody's order from scratch, so the trip that should have taken thirty minutes took nearly an hour. He could hope Eddy's widow would be in an upbeat mood for a change. He had a better chance of growing wings and flying the rest of the way to Ellicott City. On days like this, he wished she hadn't taken his advice about moving, so she and the boys would be closer to her parents—and their Uncle Austin.
Then the twins met him on the walk, and he knew nothing could be further from the truth. They greeted him with riotous enthusiasm, squealing and giggling and wrapping their arms around him as if they were still a couple of diapered toddlers instead of eleven-going-on-twelve.
They babbled nonstop, all the way to the covered front porch, where Cora met him with her usual dour expression.
"Hey," she droned, bussing Austin's cheek. "So good of you to stop by. The boys have missed you. They've been looking forward to this all day."
"Good to see you, too," he said, forcing a smile that he didn't feel.
Cora relieved him of the food sacks, and he braced for a lecture about healthy meals versus junk food. She surprised him by saying, "Hard day?"
"Nah. Just your routine—"
"Don't give me that," she interrupted. "I know that look." That part of the scolding, he could handle. In fact, he might consider it a caring gesture from a good friend—if he didn't know better. It didn't surprise him when she added "That's the look I see every time I look in the mirror."
Austin could count a thousand reasons why he missed his old partner, and the care and nurturing of his widow had always kept Cora and the
A pair of uniformed officers approached, alternately shouting over the clatter of TV news helicopters. "Get back into your vehicles," said the youngest one, "we're about to move y'all into the left lane and get you on your merry way."
"That's right, folks," said his partner. His right hand mirrored the left as he pointed toward the median. "C'mon, now.That's the way. Let's go."
"We'd like nothin' better than to go," muttered the grayhaired man. Fortunately, neither officer seemed to hear it when half a dozen of his fellow motorists agreed.
"I wonder where they've taken the people who were hurt," Mercy wondered aloud.
Someone said, "Hopkins, I reckon."
"Nah," a second voice said. "A mess like that? I'd bet my next paycheck they're at Shock Trauma."
"Why?" the man with the water asked her. "You planning to check up on 'em?"
His question made her face burn with a blush. "N-no, of course not. I was just hoping the emergency rooms were equipped to handle so many—"
"You've restored my faith in humanity, young lady," he said."I'll bet most of these yokels haven't even given the accident victims a thought, except to carp about being held up by the accident. I'm guilty of that, myself. If I could get my foot up that high, I'd kick myself in the bee-hind."
She smiled, even as guilt intensified the flush in her cheeks, because she hadn't asked the question out of concern for the accident victims. She'd asked because of her concern for Austin.
Mercy knew she'd better get busy—and stay that way—if she hoped to find the strength of will to keep from calling his cell phone the minute she got home.
12
H e almost wished he hadn't called Cora. Who are you kidding? he thought, because there was no "almost" about it.
On the heels of a day like this, he wanted nothing more than to head straight for the tug, stand under a hot and steady spray of water, and hope all the bad would spiral down the drain with the dirt and grit and blood. Instead, he'd showered at the station and changed into clean jeans and an Orioles T-shirt, and asked for permission to endure another two hours of misery.
Construction on I-70 slowed the drive to Cora's. And a brand-spanking new cashier at McDonald's fumbled so many orders, the manager had to take over and start everybody's order from scratch, so the trip that should have taken thirty minutes took nearly an hour. He could hope Eddy's widow would be in an upbeat mood for a change. He had a better chance of growing wings and flying the rest of the way to Ellicott City. On days like this, he wished she hadn't taken his advice about moving, so she and the boys would be closer to her parents—and their Uncle Austin.
Then the twins met him on the walk, and he knew nothing could be further from the truth. They greeted him with riotous enthusiasm, squealing and giggling and wrapping their arms around him as if they were still a couple of diapered toddlers instead of eleven-going-on-twelve.
They babbled nonstop, all the way to the covered front porch, where Cora met him with her usual dour expression.
"Hey," she droned, bussing Austin's cheek. "So good of you to stop by. The boys have missed you. They've been looking forward to this all day."
"Good to see you, too," he said, forcing a smile that he didn't feel.
Cora relieved him of the food sacks, and he braced for a lecture about healthy meals versus junk food. She surprised him by saying, "Hard day?"
"Nah. Just your routine—"
"Don't give me that," she interrupted. "I know that look." That part of the scolding, he could handle. In fact, he might consider it a caring gesture from a good friend—if he didn't know better. It didn't surprise him when she added "That's the look I see every time I look in the mirror."
Austin could count a thousand reasons why he missed his old partner, and the care and nurturing of his widow had always kept Cora and the
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