Red parked his car out of sight at Davidson’s Department Store and hurried to open Violet’s door. “Are you sure you want to come in and help?” he asked. “You could wander around downtown.”

“No, it’ll go much faster if I pitch in.” Violet noted Red’s eyes scanning the path to the stockroom. “No one will see us, silly.” She beamed at him and straightened her skirt, then rolled up her shirtsleeves. “Let’s get to work.”

She thinks she’s Rosie the Riveter, Red decided. He wondered how she’d react to the dusty, dank stockroom with its occasional scampering mice. Violet was accustomed to plusher environments and little in the way of physical work. He’d let her price the shipment of handbags—easy and probably amusing for a female.

He swung the door open and nodded Violet ahead, waiting for her delicate sneeze or other expression of distaste.

She smiled and asked, “Where do I begin?”

Red pointed to the stacked boxes of handbags and the wood chair next to them. “Price sheet’s in each box along with tags you tie to the handles.” He demonstrated by attaching a tag. “Make sure you check the style number inside each one and match it to the correct price.” Violet immediately began scanning the price sheet and pulling out purses, focused as Da Vinci sketching the Mona Lisa.

Thirty minutes later he was finished with the clothing racks and returned to check on her. Violet stood and swept her elegant hand at the boxes. “All done. Every one has its tag.”

“Great,” he told her. “We’ll leave as soon as I speak to the store manager for a minute.” Red opened the door to a flood of bright sunshine and announced, “You should wait in the car. I’ll be right there.”

The drive to the hospital was much too long for Red, even with Violet all to himself. He was not used to Birmingham traffic and got lost twice, cursing softly and banging his hand on the steering wheel. Violet alternated between forced cheerful chattiness and tears. She checked her face in a compact mirror and reapplied lipstick three times on the way, but still required a five minute beauty break in the restroom before visiting Johnny.

She stopped Red in the hall, saying, “Please let me have a minute alone with him first.”

“Of course. I’ll join you in a little while.” Red sank back onto the bench he’d suffered on yesterday. When Violet entered Johnny’s room, he saw there were no other visitors. He hoped Dr. Perkins was occupied with his wife; he didn’t think he could make small talk with anyone.

Violet was thrilled to see Johnny’s eyes open, and to find him alone. She sat next to the bed and reached for his hand.

He moved it away. “Get out,” he spat. “I don’t want to see you or anyone else.”