Chapters (65)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Part Two
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Part Three
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- About the Publisher
“Forget something?” said the snowflake sweater.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Where’s your baby?” said Vikings.
“In the truck,” I said. I was searching for something that looked good to eat. Suddenly, I was starving. I grabbed some cans of soup and put them on the counter, then went to the hot-dog warmer.
The women were looking at the truck parked next to a gas pump, and Digger standing beside it, smoking.
“Is that your husband out there?” asked the snowflake lady.
“Huh? Yeah, no,” I said. I paid for my items and got the hell out of there, making the bell on the door chime extra-loud. I shuffled toward the truck as fast as I could, only twenty feet away, but my legs and crotch were weak.
“Can you help me with these?” I asked Digger as I got close to the truck. He took his time putting out his cigarette on the snowy ground, stomping it with his work boot, and finally taking one of the bulging plastic shopping bags out of my hand. I grabbed the door handle, but it was locked. I tried the backseat door, but it wouldn’t open. “Digger!”
“What?” He was on the other side of the truck, and I saw him frown at me through the windows.
“It’s locked!” I said, panic rising.
Digger tried the doors on his side. “Shit,” he said.
“The baby’s in there!” I pressed my forehead up against the glass.
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“Do you have the key?”
Digger patted his coat and jeans, feeling for the keys, but then looked at the steering wheel. “They’re in the ignition.”
“Oh my God, Digger!” My heart tightened. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I looked back into the brightly lit mini-mart and saw all three women inside watching us. “Digger! Do something!”
“Calm down, calm down,” he said, moving to the back of the truck and reaching over the snowy cover.
“How can I be calm when you locked the baby in the damn truck?” I said, not calm, tears in my eyes. I dropped my shopping bags in the snow and walked all around the truck as if there might be another way in. “Look, your window’s open a crack.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said.
I stared at the baby, wide awake and alone on the passenger seat. “Can you open it? She’s crying!”
“Working on it,” Digger said, pulling a smaller toolbox out of the large built-in box and pushing me out of the way.
A voice squawked from the gas pump speaker. “Need any help?” said the cashier from inside.
“No, we got it,” I said loudly, and waving, unsure if anyone could hear us. What if they’d been listening all along?