Hannah laughed. Frances must be the master of multiple looks, from Everybody’s Mom to Female Prison Guard. “I’m glad you’re relaxing about it. Did you see the crane Ross rented?”

“I already inspected it,” Winnie said, glancing back at the bright red piece of heavy equipment. “Never seen anything like it before. Says 50-Ton Hydraulic Boom Truck on the side. I don’t think Arnie’s statue weighs anything close to that much.”

“Probably not, but I’m sure Ross didn’t want to take any chances.” Hannah did her best to remember the phone conversation she’d heard Ross make. It was all about what kind of crane he needed to rent and he’d mentioned overhead cranes, bridge cranes, gantry cranes, jib cranes, and boom trucks. It must have been a guy thing, because Ross and the representative from Minnesota Crane and Hoist had agreed on something in less time than it took Hannah to mix up a batch of Orange Snaps, and the crane had arrived at noon. “I heard him talk to the crane rental place on the phone, and he said something about how it was better to overestimate than underestimate.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Winnie put her interpretation on it. “That’s right. Would you like to watch the taping with us? Tracey’s been practicing her skating every night after school. She’s going to fly off the end while they’re playing Crack The Whip and she wants it to be perfect.”

“You don’t have to worry about that little gal. She’ll be perfect. She can do anything she sets her mind on. Reminds me of me, when I was that age.”

Hannah started to grin. Somehow she couldn’t imagine Winnie as a little girl.

“I know that’s hard to imagine,” Winnie said, guessing Hannah’s thoughts, “but I wasn’t always old. And thanks for inviting me to sit with you, but I’d better keep an eye on that crane man to make sure he does his job right.”

Hannah shifted a bit on the metal chair. It was a good thing she had a cup of hot coffee to warm her up, because they’d turned on the wind machine to make Tracey’s red scarf flutter in the breeze and all that air blowing across the flat surface of artificial ice in the skating rink had kicked up the wind-chill factor and then some.

“Cold?” Norman asked, noticing that she was shivering.

“Yes.”

“More coffee?” He gestured toward the tent the movie company had set up to provide hot drinks for the cast, crew, and extras.

Hannah shook her head. She’d already had two large cups of coffee and any more would necessitate a trip to the nearest ladies’ room. “No thanks. I don’t want to have to leave during Tracey’s scene.”

“Leave? But why would you have to