After a moment, it dawned on Manfred that the conversation at his table had stopped. He looked at Chuy, beside him, then at Fiji, Joe, and the dark man with the baby. They were all regarding him with some amusement.

“That’s Creek Lovell,” Chuy said, his grin broadening.

“Her dad owns the Gas N Go on the other corner,” Fiji said. “By the way—Manfred, meet Teacher.” She nodded at the dark man.

“Good to meet you. How’s the little . . .” And he stopped dead. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember if the baby was a boy or girl. “Grady!” he said triumphantly.

“Good save, man,” Teacher said. “Till you have ’em, they’re hardly top of your list. Yeah, this is Grady, he’s eight months old, and I do handyman work. So if you need some home repairs, give me a call.”

“Teacher can do anything,” Joe said. “Plumbing, electric, carpentry.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Teacher said, with a blinding smile. “Yes, I’m a handy guy to have around. I help Madonna out here, and every now and then I work for Shawn Lovell over at the gas station, when he just has to have a night off. And I fill in for Bobo, too. Call me if you need me.” He fished a card out of his pocket and slid it across the table to Manfred, who pocketed it.

“I’m not good with anything but the most basic hammer jobs myself, so I’ll be doing that,” Manfred said, and then reverted to a more interesting topic. “So, how old is Creek?” he asked. His attempt to sound casual was a dismal failure; even he knew that.

Joe laughed. “Not old enough,” he said. “Or, wait, maybe she is. Yeah, she graduated from high school last May. We gave her a gift certificate to Bed Bath and Beyond, so she could get stuff for her dorm room. But apparently she’s not going to college, at least not this semester. You know why, Fiji?”

Fiji’s forehead wrinkled. “Something was wrong with their loan application, I think,” she said, shaking her head. “Something didn’t come through with the financing. She’s still hoping that’ll get straightened out, even if her dad’s lukewarm about her leaving. I feel bad for Creek; she didn’t go to college, her puppy got killed, and her dad watches every move those kids make. A girl as young and smart as Creek doesn’t need to be hanging around Midnight.”

“True,” Manfred said. Though height was not a major issue with Manfred, he was pleased to note that Creek was at least two inches shorter than he was. Her black hair was just down past her jawline, all one length, and it swung forward and backward with every step she took. Her skin was apparently poreless and clear, her eyebrows smooth dark strokes, her eyes light blue.

She was not really thin. She was not really curvy. She was just right.