I deeply wanted to open the book up to the fourteenth chapter to see what it was that Max wanted to hear again. And just as deeply, I didn’t want to see. How my brain could have two ideas at the same time that were in total conflict with each other, I did not know. I only knew it was true.

“Sorry, Max,” I said. “No way am I going against Heather.”

He banged his fist on the arm of his wheelchair. “You women stick together, don’t you?”

Heather slung her arm around my shoulders and I wrapped my arm around her sturdy waist. “You bet,” she said. “We’re like Laverne and Shirley.”

“Cagney and Lacey,” I said.

“Betty and Wilma. We could do a show ourselves, I bet. Minnie and Me.”

“Minnie Hamilton?”

I turned.

The couple standing in the doorway looked sort of, but not quite, familiar. “Yes? May I help you?”

“Don’t you remember?” the man asked. He was of a size that meant a lot of shopping at the big-and-tall store, and his wife wasn’t much smaller. They were both sixtyish, wearing shorts and comfy-looking walking shoes. His shirt was bright yellow and had the logo of the Los Angeles Lakers across the front; her shirt was a more sedate light pink polo. “Out past Dooley, a few weeks ago?”

The light bulb went on. “Will!” I said, smiling and hurrying forward. “And Iris! How are you? How is . . .” I faltered, because I realized, two words too late, that I should have kept that question entirely to myself.

Iris patted my arm. “Yes, he passed away. But don’t worry, honey, we made it there in time, thanks to your wonderful bookmobile.”

Both Heather and Max were looking a little too interested in this conversation. Max, of course, was the one who opened his mouth. “Sounds like story time to me.” He rubbed his palms together. “You’ve been holding out on us, Minnie.”

“There isn’t much to tell.” I shifted, wanting to change the subject, but not sure how to do it without hustling Will and Iris out of the room.

“Not much to tell? Hah!” Will slapped me on the back. I managed to keep my balance, but it wasn’t easy. “This little one came to our rescue when no one else would. Cars passed us by, left and right, but she’s the only one who stopped.”

“Someone would have,” I murmured.

“And it would have been too late.” Will thumped me on the shoulder. “There we were, Iris and me, stranded on that stretch of county road east of Mitchell State Forest. You know, the one everyone takes as a shortcut to get to Dooley?”

Heather was eating this up. “Sure. There’s no cell phone reception for miles.”