Before the man could answer, the woman was describing Daniel Harding.

“He’s a big guy. Big, tall guy. Played basketball. All-Maine, center, strong?”

The small man in the bathrobe looked up at the woman. He was silhouetted by the porch light. So she couldn’t see that he had a strange look on his face—like he didn’t understand the question.

“Do you know him?” she asked again.

“Well—”

“Oh, don’t even answer that. That was—blech—I know that’s a horrible question to ask a person who lives in a small town, as if everybody in small towns knows everybody else, argh, can’t believe I asked you that. I don’t live here anymore, but when I did, I hated it when people assumed that I knew everybody in town just because it was small. It was worse than when they’d ask if we had plumbing, ‘way up there?’”

The man laughed a little and nodded upon remembering the joke he and many other Aroostook County residents had endured many times in their lives.

And the woman was happy that she had made him laugh a little. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who laughed much. And the woman was surprised to find herself pitying him for a moment.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m sorry I presumed that you’d know him, because you know, people in small towns really don’t know each other any better than people in big towns, you know that? I mean, you know who you know, and you don’t know who you don’t know, just like anywhere else.”

The man had never thought about this, but supposed it was true. And nodded in agreement.

And the woman smiled and nodded back.

And was completely at a loss. Because this reunion was not going as planned. Probably because she had not been reunited with anyone.

And even if it had been the reunion she had hoped for, what was the likelihood that it would have gone as planned? How in the world could she have expected to show up in Almost and pick up with Daniel where she had left off with him?

But—while it was ridiculous of her to have presumed that she could just show up and pick up where she and Daniel had left off, it wasn’t ridiculous for her to have expected to see him.

Because she had made sure he was still there—she had checked public records.

But—he wasn’t there.

And she really needed to see him.

Because she had something very important to tell him.

But now it looked like she wasn’t going to be able to tell him.

And that made her feel like she was going to cry.

But she didn’t cry.

Because she had gotten good at not crying—by forcing herself to smile when she felt like crying.

So she smiled really hard at the man who stood before her so she wouldn’t cry. And said sincerely, “I am so sorry to have bothered you.” And then she bowed her head a bit and turned and grabbed the telescoping handle of her wheelie suitcase and started to go.