Miguel was the first to look away. “Isn’t this your dad’s old truck? The one we drove that day?”

“Yes. I’d forgotten that. It’s a wonder we didn’t kill ourselves. I’m glad Dad never found out that we stole his pickup for an afternoon.”

“Or maybe he didn’t say he knew. Your dad was the nicest man. He...” Miguel paused. “I was sorry to hear of his passing.”

Vera stopped smiling. “It was hard on all of us and changed everything. I couldn’t leave Kelly. She would have dropped out of school to take care of Mom and—” She waved her hand. “I need to go. Is it possible that you know how to start this truck?”

“Is there something on this planet that Vera Exton doesn’t know how to do? What’s that in the back?”

“No!” she yelled, but she was too late.

Miguel grabbed a stake and pulled it out of the truck bed. It was a placard. End the War Before It Ends You. He reached for another one.

“Don’t,” she said.

But he didn’t obey. He leaned the sign up against the truck and pulled out another one, then another. Hell, No, Don’t Go. Stop the War. Bring the Troops Home. Get the Hell Out of Vietnam. Heil Nixon.

The last one was Not Our Sons. Not Your Sons. Not Their Sons.

“For the mothers who show up,” Vera said softly.

Miguel looked at her. “Who in your family knows you do this?”

“No one. Not even Adam.”

“Adam? You mean Hatten? You and he are...?”

“Together, yes. In the fall I’m leaving with him to go work in Africa. The Peace Corps.”

Miguel stepped back, looking at the signs. “So you’re going off to be a part of a protest and no one in your family knows where you are or what you’re doing?”

“Correct.” She was looking at him in a hard way, with no humor. Was he going to tell on her?

“After Kent I can understand why they wouldn’t want you to be part of a protest.” Two years earlier, the Ohio Army National Guard had been called in on students at Kent State University protesting the war. As the young people were running away, they were fired on. Four students died, nine were injured. In solidarity to the horrific tragedy, four hundred and fifty campuses around the US temporarily shut down. But the war did not stop.

He turned to her. “Even if I got this old thing running, it probably won’t last. Let’s put these in my truck.”

“Then what?” she demanded. “You drive me home?”

He picked up the Nixon placard. “Mind if I carry this one?”

Vera blinked a few times before she understood. “You’re going with me?”