“Sure thing. Don’t forget our conversation.”

How could I? “It was enlightening.” I exited and shut the door. The chilling rain had more appeal than his company.

Edie dashed around the front of the car. “You’ll be soaked. Scoot under my umbrella.”

I ducked beneath its wide shelter and hurried to the SUV. I hated climbing into her vehicle and plopping my wet rear onto her seat. “I hope I don’t ruin anything.”

“Impossible. Don’t inhale or you’ll get a whiff of dog, greasy fries, and my forgot-to-shower sixth-grade son.” Again the wide smile parted her lips.

She dashed around to the driver’s side and slid in. “Hungry?”

Genuine and full of life. I liked her.

I hadn’t eaten all day. Should I put her out any more than necessary?

“Your hesitation tells me you’re starved. I’ll drive through McDonald’s. Is that okay?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten anything but what was dumped on my plate.”

“Oops. I’m sorry.”

I waved away her remark. “No need to tiptoe around me. Where I’ve been is not where I’m going. I’m starved, and a hamburger sounds delicious.”

Edie pulled onto the street, her washer blades reminding me of a hummingbird’s wings. At the McDonald’s drive-through, I placed my order. She added a Coke for both of us and paid for it, much to my protests.

“I inconvenienced you. Left you in the rain and my brother can be lousy company. He wanted to drive you to the cabin, but his attitude can be intolerable.”

She knew him well. “But we’re in good shape now. If you don’t mind, I have a few questions.” When she nodded, I laid them out in the order I’d stacked them in my mind. “Do your children know about me?”

“Enough to know your past is private.” She tossed me a mom-look, complete with squinted forehead. “They are to keep family business private with a threat of me skinning them alive. Told them we’re being Jesus.”

Officer Hughes’s comment about Edie not listening to him made sense. A woman with my reputation could be bad news. “I promise you I will not be alone with either of them.”

“Thanks, and we’ve discussed the same scenario.”

“Your brother said you’re a widow?”

She nodded. “He died of a heart attack. No clue he had a health problem. Went to sleep one night and didn’t wake up. It’s been four years now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. Every day gets better.”

The drive-through girl handed Edie a bag and two drinks. One bite, and I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I chewed slowly to savor it all.

“Incredible.” I stuck the straw into my Coke and drew in a long, sweet sip. “How old are your kids?”

“Timothy is twelve and Livy is seven. They’re good kids.”

“Single parenting must be hard.”

“Every day gets a little easier . . . until they’re teenagers.”

I smiled. What a grand feeling to be talking with a normal person outside concrete walls. “Any special instructions?”