“Oh, I love that book.” Maggie smiled. “I’ve read it twice.” Rainbow Rowell was one of her favorite authors. “If I were heading back with you, I’d come.” She shut off the water, transferred the filled bucket to the floor, and strode to the closet outside the kitchen. From the hallway, she added, “It’d be fun to hear what others have to say about it.” She collected the mop and returned to the kitchen. “How are you liking it so far?”

Her mother didn’t answer. She’d obviously lost the thread of their conversation. Peering out the window, she said, “Who…?”

A small blue car was turning off Ash Drive. It crept toward the cabin. The slow speed suggested the driver was a stranger, uncertain of his surroundings. After the car door opened, a thin man emerged.

Maggie frowned. “I have no idea.”

He made his way around the messy drive, where rain had frozen into pearly pits. The morning sky was more silver than gray, the sun shrouded but discernible behind the clouds. The stranger’s red hair was a shout of color. His breath clouded the air around his bespectacled face.

Mom answered the door, her expression questioning.

His eyes lit up at the sight of her, and before she got a chance to inquire if she could help him, he burst out with a hearty “Hello!” and thrust out a hand. As Mom limply took it, he gushed, “I am so happy to meet you. Thrilled! And I appreciate your willingness to talk to me—on a Sunday, no less. I realize it isn’t at all your thing.”

Mom took a step, retreating into the door. It banged the wall and bounced against her back. Her hand, once released, fluttered to her cheek. “No, no, I’m afraid—”

He frowned at her tone of regret, then threw up a flat palm, like a cornered suspect proving his lack of a weapon, and said hurriedly, “I won’t steal much of your time. Promise.” He sidled to the kitchen table and opened a briefcase. Yanking out his laptop, notes, and phone, he continued swiftly, “This is a lucky break. I’m grateful and honored and want you to know I’m a big fan—”

“But I—I’m not—” Mom stammered, just as Maggie, behind her, said, “She’s not—”