She arrived at the dentist’s office by eight o’clock, wearing her best red silk dress and perfectly made up. There was no sign of Chet’s company truck by ten, and Violet concluded he’d finished work yesterday and wouldn’t be back. She pounded her fist on the steering wheel and cursed herself for chasing after a man she had no right to. She should go home and write. She should call Genny and meet for lunch. She should check with her private detective in Florida.

Violet put her car in gear and drove an hour to reach Anniston instead. She stopped at a phone booth and located the number for Superior Electric. She dialed with a shaking finger and asked for Mr. Wilson when the receptionist answered.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, Mr. Wilson isn’t in. Could someone else help you?”

She sounded young and pretty. Violet hated her. “Is he expected soon?”

“No, ma’am, he’s on a job site in Birmingham. Would you like to leave a message?”

Violet tapped her fingers on the phone booth’s glass. “Oh, he’s still working at the dentist’s office?” she tried. “I was hoping to schedule an appointment when they finished there.”

“No,” the girl replied cheerfully, “He’s done with that job. Today the crew is at a private home. I’ll be happy to have him telephone you, ma’am, if you’ll leave your number.”

“No, thanks,” Violet fumbled, “I’ll call another company. I need help today.” She hung up the phone feeling like an utter fool. She drove to surprise her parents with a visit and spent the afternoon hearing about the various illnesses and surgeries their friends had been experiencing. Violet left full of relief at her parents’ good health, kissing them both and promising to return soon.

She arrived at her dark and empty house at seven o’clock to find a note jammed between the front door handles.

I’m sorry I missed you. Been doing several jobs in Birmingham lately and stopped by to say hello. Will try tomorrow after work. C.

Violet ensured Beatrice’s absence by offering to pay for her family’s dinner at their favorite barbecue place, ushering her out the door by three thirty since she had no idea what “after work” meant. She arranged herself prettily in a bay window seat downstairs, watching and waiting. He drove up a few minutes later. Violet was sorry to see Chet had a passenger in the truck until she noticed the other man slide over and drive away as she opened the front door.

“That’s pretty presumptuous of you,” she smiled despite herself, nodding at the retreating truck.