“My name is Thelma Pearl. Thelma Pearl Perkins? I used to be married to your husband, Jake McCloskey? And this little boy here is Jake Junior. Jake Stuart McCloskey. I call him Junior. He’s Jake’s son.”

Emaline thought she might fall right over. She stood there gaping at the two of them, mother and boy, standing on her front porch with big snowflakes drifting down on their shoulders.

Thelma offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry if we’re bothering you. I know it’s a surprise. It’s just that if I phoned Jake, I was afraid he’d tell me to go to hell.”

Emaline collected her wits. “No, no. You’re not bothering me. I was just baking some cookies. Maybe this little man will have some. Come in, come in, it’s cold out there. Jake took the truck into town to get it fixed. I don’t expect him back for a while.”

Thelma Pearl and the boy stepped into the warm house, the delicious smell of cookies in the oven. She helped the boy take off his coat and galoshes and hung their coats on the pegs by the door. She was a tidy, trim little woman. Emaline was surprised to see that Thelma Pearl was older than Jake, probably close to forty, but with her red hair, small features, wide Clara Bow lips, trim figure, she could have passed for twenty unless you took a close look. She was well-dressed, except that her dress looked a little frayed in one or two places, but she looked completely worn-out.

Emaline showed the boy to a seat at the kitchen table, poured him a glass of milk, told him he could try the first batch of cookies while they were still warm. He looked to his mother to see if it was all right. Thelma nodded. He grasped a cookie and nibbled at it. Emaline kept stealing glances at him. He was a handsome boy, with skin like fresh cream and that rich, wavy red hair. He was small-boned and slender and seemed to take after Thelma Pearl in every way except for the cheekbones and the unmistakable jaw with the deep cleft in his chin. Jake might have tried to deny the rest of that angelic face, but he could not deny the cleft chin.

Jake had always called Thelma Pearl a man-eater and maybe she was, but seated here so prim and proper at the table, she seemed small, nervous, frightened, embarrassed, vulnerable. In spite of herself, Emaline’s heart went out to the woman.

“How did you find us?”