“I wasn’t feeling sorry for you, Chet. I was only going to tell you how good it is to see the wonderful man you’ve become.” She hesitated. “And that you’ve made my time here at home something I’ll never forget. You’ve made me feel special again.”

He turned to face her, his eyes on hers for the first time that night. “You are special. When other people look at you they see a gorgeous woman, but there’s so much more. When I look at you, I see kindness and joy and laughter and grace and every other beautiful thing I could ever imagine. I see you. And it takes my breath away.” He smiled, revealing the dimples she couldn’t resist. “I can’t hide how I feel, either. I’m sure no one can miss it. Your mother doesn’t. She’s going to run me off with a broom soon.”

Violet laughed softly.

“I also see the way you look at me, Violet. It makes me the happiest and saddest man on earth.” He stood and glanced at the house. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Now, go in there and just try to think of anyone or anything but me.” He walked to his truck without another word. As he opened the door, he looked into her eyes and said, “Anyone but me.”

He knew she couldn’t. She did, too.

Violet kissed her parents good night and went up to her room, claiming she was going to read. She substituted a legal pad for a diary and made a list like she would’ve as a teenager: Chet was great-looking, strong, tender, warm, funny, smart, successful, confident, the perfect height for her, his eyes were the darkest brown and full of sparkles, his dimples made her want to lick his face, when his fingers brushed against hers it sent a riot of sensation all over her body, he adored her, he made her feel safe and protected, and he would never hit her. She told herself it was pathetic to put that on a list of a man’s good points, and tore the paper into tiny pieces. She knew it all by heart, anyway.

And she’d have to forget it soon.

Two days later, as her parents ran errands in town, Chet appeared at the front door. “Hey. I was wondering if you could go for a ride with me.” He stood there awkwardly, hands in pockets, his eyes pleading.

Violet looked around the neighborhood. Mrs. Sweeney was sweeping her porch. The Tanner children rode bicycles by and waved.

“I can’t, Chet. I’m sorry.”

“Then let me come in. The truck’s here in the open. I’m working on a circuit breaker or something.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Your folks are downtown, and I saw them walking into Jimmy Gardner’s Cafeteria. They’ll be at least another hour getting home.”