Under the Burr Oak Tree

One

Lindsey had dreamed about this moment for the last 15 years. Now, when she least expected it, the moment arrived in an artic white Mercedes convertible, and Hank stepped out of it. He walked carefully up the pea gravel path to meet her. She watched every step, listening to every crunch his feet made on the small rocks as he came closer.

His puppy dog eyes still pierced every defense she could erect and held her eyes captive as they approached. The lips that formed the nervous grin on his face stopped only inches from hers. His light casual touch on her arm as he prepared to speak, still tingled, and the Wisconsin air suddenly had far too little oxygen in it for her to breathe normally.

"Could we talk? It's really important." He looked at her as if there were no irony at all in a request to talk about something important after 15 years of total silence. No "hello," no "how are you," or "I've missed you," no "I'm sorry it's been so long," just "Could we talk?"

"You want to talk? After all this time, you want to talk?"

He nodded and then looked down at his feet. "Yes. There are some things I just have to know."

Lindsey wanted to scream. There are things YOU have to know? She glanced at the sky instead, then to both sides, and shifted from one foot to the other, before finally managing to answer. "I guess."

"When?" Hank asked simply.

It had been one thing to dream but quite another thing to meet that dream face to face when it could talk back. All the clever, witty things she had planned to say if they ever met again refused to come out and play, leaving her babbling a series of barely intelligible questions. "What do you want? How did you know where I was? How about breakfast tomorrow at the White Gull Inn?"

"I just want to talk," he responded. "Tomorrow?" When she didn't respond, he nodded but seemed disappointed. His deflated sigh sucked all the life from the expression on his face, and he turned in slow motion to go back to his car.

The ache inside her as she watched him convinced her she couldn't wait until tomorrow, and his reaction confirmed that he didn't want to wait until then either. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, then opened them.

"How about a picnic, tonight, right here under the burr oak tree?" She motioned with a sweep of her arm to a grassy spot under the massive tree in her front yard. "You remember the burr oak tree, don't you?" A thin coating of sarcasm covered her question.

He whirled around to face her with a mixture of excitement, hurt, and irritation in his eyes. "Of course I do." Hesitating for a moment, he finally forced a smile. "Should I bring the picnic?"

She could only nod. "Usual time?" Her voice was hoarse, but tears were out of the question. There had been enough of those already. Still, something inside her convinced her to agree.

Hank spoke with the same hoarseness. "Sounds good." He forced the corners of his mouth to turn up. "Maybe, if we're lucky, it will rain."

Lindsey knew what he meant. "There's none in the forecast." The flat tone in her voice held just a hint of bitterness around the edges, and her eyes refused to yield to the warmth in the brown pools she knew so well that were staring at her.

Hank shrugged. "Weathermen have been wrong before." He turned, walked purposefully back to his car, looked up at her one more time, and drove off.

His casualness infuriated her. The way he just waltzed in after 15 years and then slid back out. And she allowed it. Lindsey scanned the trunk of the burr oak tree from where it touched the ground to where she lost sight of it in the sky, and closed her eyes tightly. The sound of Hank's car disappeared steadily into the quietness of the woods surrounding her small Door County house until the quiet hurt her ears.

Emotionally exhausted from just the brief encounter, she fell back into the converted porch swing hanging from one of the tree's sturdy limbs and let the light breeze from the bay swing her back and forth like a breath from the past. A tree similar to this one stood quietly in a small Iowa town several hundred miles and 15 years away, and Hank had been there too a long time ago, at least in heart years.

Her head fell back, and the gentle breeze rocked her as somewhere between memory and forgetfulness, dream and reality, she sat down under that Iowa tree again. And heard him sit silently next to her, watched him talk, felt his eyes, and remembered the innocence of being 17 once more.

Even with her eyes closed, new tears ran down Lindsey's cheeks and felt so old, so familiar, and so confusing. They stung her face and reminded her of a place she had tried to forget, a place where she had fallen in love, hoped, planned, and dreamed. Where for a few short summer weeks, life had been sweet, safe, warm, and wonderfully breathless…but only under the burr oak tree. Her tree. The tree she had shared with nobody but him. And now, she was going to share again.

Hanford, Iowa, was a town too dead to die, even 15 years ago. If it would have just given up and passed, some kind soul would surely have given it a decent burial. But it was too stubborn to do what it should have. Acres of the most fertile soil in the world allowed a dwindling group of equally stubborn German farmers to keep the small bank solvent and a phone booth sized post office open.

A nine-hole golf course with a combination pro shop and restaurant provided the local entertainment and fairly decent food every day but Monday. Both alcoholic and nonalcoholic beverages were available as long as nothing was too exotic, and an extensive wine list was provided in the evening. It consisted of three choices…red, white or pink. All were served on ice.

The farmers and less than 400 Hanford residents also supported a gas station that had two pumps, a soda pop machine, and Charlie Blackburn, the owner. Charlie knew a lot about cars and the local people in the community, and he loved them both, but he loved Julie Miller most of all.

He just couldn't seem to admit it. Julie couldn't admit how she felt about Charlie either. It made a confusing situation even worse than it was.
It had always been clear to Lindsey and her older sister Candy that their mother belonged with Charlie, but for unknown reasons neither Charlie nor their mother could get that clear between themselves. So they supported each other but were never with each other.

Candy and Lindsey had never known their biological father. He left town before Candy turned two when he found out Julie was pregnant again with Lindsey.

As long as either of them could remember, Charlie had been there to help-quietly, faithfully, and totally devoted to their mother, even though she probably didn't deserve his devotion. She was a stubborn woman, determined to support herself and her daughters on her own, in spite of Charlie's willingness to help.

Julie raised Candy and Lindsey on money made from infrequent minimum wage jobs and the kindness of strangers who visited the blue green trailer behind Charlie's gas station almost every night. The location of the trailer was well known to just about every low life man in the area, and even a few fairly respectable ones who only came after dark.

It tore at Charlie to watch the strange men coming and going almost every day, but no matter what she did, he loved Julie. He sat and watched it all. So did Lindsey and Candy. That tore at Charlie even more, especially when Candy started to do more than watch.

One night, shortly after Candy turned 18, she watched two men arguing about who was there first. They punched each other in the face, drawing blood. One man lost two teeth, and spit them on the floor of the trailer. Lindsey remembered how terrified she and Candy had been.

One of the men slapped their mother. "It's all your fault," he screamed. The other man agreed and slapped her even harder, but their mother just stood there and glared at them even though her mouth was bleeding. She never cried. Both men raised their hands to hit her again and that time their hands were doubled up in fists.

Candy solemnly got up, telling Lindsey to go for a walk, and stepped in between the men and her mother. As Lindsey slipped out the trailer door, she looked back and watched her sister quietly and calmly take one of the two men by the arm and lead him to the back of the trailer as he sneered at the man who had knocked out his teeth.

Candy had no expression on her face. As the other man slobbered over her mother, her eyes were on her daughter as she disappeared down the trailer hallway. The look of pain, hurt, and mingled-in love on her mother's face haunted Lindsey. Every time she heard the trailer door shut after that, she remembered that night and that look on her mother's face.

She would be next if she stayed there. Trying to escape the inevitable was pointless. Nobody would probably bother her until after she turned 18 at the end of the summer, but that was only a few weeks away. The thought of spending her afternoons and evenings wallowing in a corner of the trailer with smelly, drunken men, made her skin crawl and her stomach churn.

She didn't know if she could have done what her sister had done, but there was no other option at the time. Her mother had bruises on her face for weeks after that night. They weren't the first ones. Her mother had bruises all the time, everywhere, but Lindsey had never seen what caused them before that night. Lately, Candy had a few bruises too, but she refused to talk about them.

Lindsey and her sister had been excellent students. They used to lay awake at night in the back of the trailer and talk about getting out of Hanford and living somewhere else, but Candy didn't talk about that much anymore. In fact, Candy didn't talk much about anything anymore, and she always looked tired and much older than twenty.

Lindsey knew she had to find a way out soon, or it was likely she would have no choice but join her mother and her sister. She didn't want that, but she didn't want to leave them there by themselves either.

She sat in the small city park on the north edge of town under the largest of three burr oak trees in a small clearing. It was her private spot, a place where she went to get away from the trailer and dream about more pleasant things. Today she dreamed about what she should do so she didn't have to turn out like her mother and her sister.

Her bare feet dangled over the bank of the Wenig River as Lindsey watched it flow by, wondering where it went and how it ended. Did it become part of something larger and more important at its final destination, or did it just meander out of town and disappear, forgotten, never touching or being touched by anything?

She stared at the water, as it moved steadily away from her in white foamy swirls, continuously changing shape and size until the stream disappeared when it turned gently to the right not more than fifty yards from her. Part of her wished she could just leave Hanford as simply and peacefully as the river did, but only if it went somewhere. She had to go somewhere, or she might as well stay where she was.

"Hey, Lindsey Miller, is that you?"

Lindsey jumped, coming out of the trance that held her captive as she watched the stream. Nobody ever came here; that's why she did, but today somebody strolled into her private world, and she turned to see who it was. Oh my. Henry Chapel, the banker's son, the hottest of the hot in her graduating class, stood less than three feet away from her, and he grinned like they were best friends.

Acting as if it were true, she smiled and focused. "Hey, Henry. Yep, it's me." A cool, calmness covered her face and coated her words, even though dozens of butterflies flapped wildly in her stomach. She was a Miller. People were coldly polite to her and smiled strangely when they met her in town, but few of them spoke more than perfunctory words to any Miller, even though they said plenty behind their backs.

Yet, there he stood, grinning casually under sandy blond hair that blew freely over his smooth forehead and dark brown cocker spaniel eyes. His tie was loosened slightly; his white shirt lay open at the neck, and its long sleeves were rolled up so that his athletic forearms teased like a woman in a low cut dress, and probably for similar reasons. He was not just gorgeous but breathtaking, and he was so close.

He pushed one of his sleeves up even further to his elbow. "What are you doing here by the river?"

Somehow Lindsey found enough air left in her lungs to answer even though she couldn't take her gaze from his eyes. "I'm just sitting here dreaming, wondering what I'm going to do with my life now that high school is over."
That sounded so empty to Lindsey, even though it was true. This was Henry Chapel she was talking to, The Henry Chapel, if you left off the junior. His father may have had the name first, but as far as Lindsey was concerned, the real deal was standing right there on the bank beside her, and he was moving closer.

Without being asked, Henry sat down next to her, took off his shoes and socks, and dangled his bare feet over the bank just like she was doing.

"That feels so good," he said as he swung his feet back and forth.
He glanced over at her. "You mind if I join you for a little while? It seems like a perfect day to sit and dream, especially with company."

Lindsey grinned at Henry to keep from dropping her mouth entirely open. "It's a public place. Be my guest." She motioned to the spot he already occupied. "Normally you should phone ahead for reservations during rush hour. It's usually packed."

"I'll remember that next time." He looked almost wistfully at the small waterfalls a few yards upstream, studied them for a while as he continued to swing his feet over the edge of the bank and then effortlessly locked his gaze onto hers again. "So have you come to any conclusions? What are your plans?"

That was a sore subject. Lindsey wanted more than anything to be like the other 14 members of her graduating class. Most were going to college or at least a regional community college, and the rest already had jobs even if they were just on the family farm. She had nothing and considered making something up for Henry's benefit, but didn't.

Instead, she stared off into space. "I wish I had some. I really don't have a clue. How about you, Henry?" She turned back to him and was positive he had never looked away from her.

"It's Hank." He grinned again, and Lindsey really wished he would frown at least once so she could get one good, deep breath into her lungs. "I'm going to Northwestern, just like Daddy did."

Lindsey whistled softly and raised her eyebrows. "Expensive, but I'm not saying I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, it's not my choice, but Daddy insisted." This time Daddy sounded even less affectionate that it did the first time.

She didn't understand. "You'd rather go somewhere instead of Northwestern? I'll bet hundreds of people would do almost anything to go there. Do you have any idea how many people got rejected and would love to trade places with you?"

"Probably lots of people. They could have my spot." He dropped his head, shaking it. "I'd rather go almost anywhere else, as long as it was farther away, and Daddy hadn't gone there. I hate this Podunk town. I'd like to get as far away from it as I can."

"I always figured you'd be taking over the bank some day." Lindsey compulsively pulled the grass between them to keep from looking at him.

His eyes made her nervous, and she hoped her breathing didn't sound as labored as it felt. Even after working in the bank all day and sitting on the ground in his bare feet, Hank had a clean, rich boy smell about him that she never smelled on any of the callers at the trailer, even the ones that came after dark.

He pushed himself back with his arms on the ground and shook his head emphatically. "No way. That's not for me. Taking care of money for a bunch of bumpkins in some Podunk bank is not my idea of a good time. I want to do something important, something exciting, something…a long way away from here."

"Won't your dad be disappointed?"

Hank stared out over the river and said to nobody in particular, "He'll get over it. He always does."

Lindsey had never known her father but always wanted to know at a minimum what he looked like. Hank's lack of concern for his father seemed incomprehensible to her. Even a stuffy, unreasonable father would have been better than none at all. At least Hank's father wanted what he thought was best for him. Her father hadn't even wanted her.

Hank reached over and touched Lindsey's arm lightly as thoughts of the father she never knew worked on her imagination. She jumped…again. Not only did his touch startle her, but it tingled. His eyes were boring in on hers. When her mind came back into focus she gasped audibly.
Her gasp made Hank laugh. "You okay?"

Her stare refused to let loose of his eyes, and he didn't take his gaze off of her eyes either. "Sure, I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be? You just startled me. That's all."

"I didn't mean to." He continued to look at her. "You are going to college somewhere, aren't you? You were probably the smartest person in our class. I was always amazed by how easily you got things."

No matter how she tried, she couldn't break eye contact with Hank, but she felt her lips move and moments later heard herself say, "I'd love to go to college, but I can't afford it, so I'm not sure what I'm going to do."

"I thought you got scholarships several places," he said without looking away.

His eyes were still only inches from her.

"I did, but even so-called 'full-ride' scholarships don't cover everything. Until I figure out a way to pay for everything else, I guess I'm stuck here." She didn't mention that being stuck here meant more than just being bored and not going to college. At least it did if you lived where she did.

Hank finally turned his eyes away from hers, and Lindsey was both disappointed and relieved at the same time. She took the moment to inhale as much air as she could without drawing too much attention to herself.

"There's got to be a way. Have you asked my father about a school loan? I could check into it for you."

It seemed unbelievable. Henry Chapel was trying to be friendly and helpful to her. Maybe he had forgotten she was a Miller. "I hadn't even thought about that. I just assumed you needed collateral or something to get a loan. Besides, I won't be 18 for a few more weeks."

"You don't need collateral for a school loan, and you don't have to make any payments until after you graduate. Even then the interest is usually a lot lower than a normal loan. And 18 is fine. I'll get you some details.

Somebody as smart as you are needs to go to college." His explanation made him sound as if he were the bank president already.

"I'd really appreciate that." And with that relatively short, simple sentence, her air supply seemed to be dangerously low again.

Hank talked, and she listened for nearly two hours until it started to get dark. She participated in the discussion as oxygen permitted, but mostly she listened. He rambled on about everything from grade school to graduation just a few weeks ago.

Lindsey didn't remember half of the things he talked about, but he made things sound like the two of them had done everything together growing up. In fact, she had been left out of most of the things Hank talked about, so it was nice to be included, even if it was after the fact.

"I'd better go," he finally said. "Would you like me to drive you home?"
Her voice almost got swallowed up in the evening. "No, but thank you for the offer. I'm used to walking. I think I'll just walk around for a while before I go home. It's such a beautiful night."

Hank looked up at the stars that blanketed the sky. "It is a beautiful night. I wish I could walk with you a while, but I have to get home tonight." He took a long deep breath. "The air is so fresh here by the river. Maybe I'll see you around tomorrow."

His hand touched her arm lightly again, and she felt the same tingle as before. "Maybe you will," she said, wanting more words desperately so he wouldn't leave yet.

With one last, long look at her, he nodded and put his socks into his pants pockets, sliding his shoes on over his bare feet. He got up and walked slowly toward his car. About half way there, he turned around and waved, mouthing the word, "bye."

Lindsey waved back and repeated what he had just said, followed by a meek and inexplicable, "thank you." She wasn't going to tell him that she always walked around until at least midnight before going back to the trailer to avoid the atmosphere there as much as possible. Even though everybody in town knew what went on there, Hank didn't have to see it up close.

For the first time, Lindsey forced herself to look at how ashamed she was of her mother and her sister for what they did. Before she talked with Hank, she had avoided thinking about it. Now, for some reason, she couldn't avoid it anymore.

Two

The trailer smelled like a mixture of cheap beer and stale cigarette smoke when Lindsey crept in slightly after 1 a.m. Her mother was sleeping on the couch in the middle of a half dozen or more empty beer cans strewn everywhere, and she was wrapped in the wide mesh throw cover from the couch. That meant Candy was in back with someone.

Lindsey rearranged the cover slightly and leaned down to kiss her mother's forehead. No matter what her mother was, she had always kissed both she and Candy good night when they were little and told them that she loved them. "I love you, Mom," she whispered as she brushed the hair away from her mother's eyes and noticed tear stains on her mother's face.

It appeared to Lindsey that her mother had cried herself to sleep again tonight, something she had been doing a lot for the past several weeks. Lindsey got a clean, damp dishrag from the sink and gently wiped the tear marks from her mother's cheeks.

Hunger gnawed at Lindsey from the inside out. The apple and handful of raw carrots she had eaten earlier weren't holding any more. She found two pieces of cold pizza in the refrigerator and began devouring one immediately, pouring herself a glass of water from the sink faucet and grabbing the other piece of pizza with her free hand before sliding into the booth that doubled as a desk and a kitchen table.

Candy's giggling funneled from the passage way to the back of the trailer, and the laughter didn't sound as if it were coming from someone who was sober. She stumbled out into the kitchen area hanging on some oily looking guy Lindsey recognized as one of the regulars with her bright yellow blouse completely unbuttoned, while her companion took in the sights, leering shamelessly.

"Oh man." Candy looked at Lindsey. "You're eating the last two pieces of pizza, and I've got a terrible case of the munchies."

"I told you not to smoke that stuff," the man known to Lindsey only as Cowboy said, slurring even his vowels.

Candy swayed, losing her balance. Cowboy gallantly reached through her open blouse and held her up. She giggled and waved a single finger in front of his face. "Look here buster, no freebies…but leave me another twenty for a pizza, and I'll let you try that again."

Cowboy stumbled around the kitchen as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. "Tell you what. I'll give you a fifty right now if little cutie over there joins us, and more later if you two make it worth my while."

He turned and moved closer to Lindsey. His breath made her lose her appetite, and she was starving.

Candy slid between Lindsey and Cowboy and motioned behind her back for her to leave as she leaned on him. "Huh uh, I don't share. Besides, Lin's too young."

Bleary-eyed, he came closer to her. "Okay, a hundred, but you got to take it all off little lady," he said as he leaned his chin on Candy's shoulder and grinned.

"Excuse me, I think I'm going to be sick." Lindsey stood up and moved away.

Cowboy cackled and slumped into the booth where she had just been sitting. "Guess that's a no, then."

Lindsey moved quickly to the back bedroom and shut the door behind her, locking it. She lay down in her corner of the bedroom and covered her ears with a pillow to dampen the sounds from the front of the trailer. This was pretty much a normal night at the trailer except for being asked to participate. That had never happened before, and it frightened her. Pulling the pillows tighter over her head, she thought about the look in Cowboy's eyes and cried herself to sleep. Everyone cried themselves to sleep in the trailer these days.

Lindsey unlocked the door to her bedroom the next morning and peeked out cautiously. Everything was quiet, and it was time to get out of there and think. She thought best when she walked. Cowboy had scared her so much that she slept in her clothes. Using both hands, she splashed cold water on her face and brushed her teeth.

On the counter, half a pizza from the convenience store six miles away remained in the box. Lindsey grabbed a couple pieces and then saw her sister sleeping half naked by the door. Putting the pizza back into the box, Lindsey pulled a blanket and pillow off her bed in the back of the trailer, gently lifted her sister's head and put her pillow under it, covering Candy with the blanket.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Lindsey took two pieces of pizza from the box on the counter and slid the box into the refrigerator. She stepped over her sister carefully and slipped out the door. Another day in paradise. She dreamed about staying at the trailer, cleaning it up, and making a picnic for the three of them. In her mind, they all laughed somewhere far away where nobody knew them.

She had lots of dreams, but if that one dream could come true, all the other ones, including college, could float down the river by the park and disappear as far as Lindsey was concerned. If only she could get her mother and her sister to stop living the way they were, they would all have a chance. But, no matter how hard she wished, how much she cried, or how many dreams she had, it didn't happen, and that's why she always ended up sitting under her tree. At least there, it did.

It didn't take long to walk around Hanford. There were four main edges and not much middle, but it was important which edge you lived on. The trailer sat behind the corner of the south edge. From there Lindsey walked four long blocks passing the bank, turned left, walked five blocks, turned left, walked four long blocks again, turned left once more, walked the final five blocks, and got back to her starting point.

The whole distance took about fifteen minutes and two pieces of black olive and pepperoni pizza if you walked slowly. The Millers lived on the worst edge of town by the highway, which ran right through town. Hanford didn't need a bypass because nobody went there unless they had to, and fewer and fewer people had to each day. The main east-west highway across that part of the state was 5.2 miles farther south. That's were all the traffic was.

Hank lived on the best edge of town. In fact, the Chapel residence was the best edge of town, almost all of it. But it hadn't seemed to matter to Hank when he talked to her last night. His smile, laugh, soft flirty eyes, and the way he dangled his bare feet over the riverbank as he sat next to her, all made him seem like a good friend, maybe even more. The flutter in her heart told her it was more to her, and until yesterday, she didn't think flutters really existed. Now she knew they did.

Lindsey had just completed her second circuit around Hanford when she noticed a reflection in one of the many vacant storefront windows on the south side of town. It mirrored a disheveled, rather pathetic looking sad sack with bird nest hair and droopy clothes, and it made her stop. That was her!

Something smelled like the morning after the night before as she stood there. She watched the reflection in the window discreetly lift its arm, sniff under it, and scrunch its nose like it had just taken a whiff of week old garbage left out in the hot sun. Only two days ago those images would have been funny and made her laugh, but today they were the beginning of a panic attack.

Hank said he might see her again today. Maybe he would, and maybe he wouldn't, but who knew for sure? Lindsey turned and ran, getting back to the trailer in record time. Candy and her mother were right where she had left them. Clothes went flying everywhere as Lindsey couldn't peel hers off fast enough and head for the shower. She needed to bathe…now. Her clothes could be burned later.

She couldn't ever walk around town looking and smelling like that again. Ever! Why hadn't she realized this sooner? It amazed her that Hank had been able to sit so close to her yesterday and still say he might see her again today. He even said the air was fresh. Maybe he had allergies. It didn't matter. If he ran into her again, she was going to look and smell nice from now on.

Three quarters of an hour later, after scrubbing herself in the shower until the hot water was gone and blow-drying her hair, Lindsey tried to find something clean to wear. She took one of the few remaining pull over tops out of a large box on the floor by her bed. It was her chest of drawers. Candy had a matching one on the other side of the room.

The top was a boring shade of gray, hideously out of style, and had a small snag near the bottom left side. But it was either that or the long sleeved white top with the Peter Pan collar that made her look like she should be standing in the front row at the 7th grade chorus concert.

They both smelled a little like they'd spent too much time in the trailer, but the gray one smelled a little better. Lindsey held it up, shook her head, and reached for the can of clothes freshener.

"You're not going to wear that out in public, are you?" Candy croaked from the doorway. She shuffled into the bedroom wrapped in the blanket Lindsey had provided, holding a bag of frozen peas and carrots on her forehead. She collapsed onto the foot of her bed and grimaced noticeably as she looked up. "You want to wear something of mine?"

Lindsey hesitated. "Do you have something? I mean that

isn't…doesn't…that I could wear in public?"

"Yeah." Candy smiled although it was clear that it hurt when she did. "I wasn't always a ho, remember?" She got up slowly to walk over to her clothes box in the opposite corner of the bedroom, turning to look at Lindsey. "This for anything special?"

Lindsey slowly shook her head. "Probably not."

"But, maybe yes?" Candy had a gentle smile on her face similar to the smiles Lindsey remembered from not all that long ago. "Does my baby sister have a high school boy out there that she's sweet on?"

"Of course not," Lindsey said almost too quickly. "Besides, I graduated. I'm not in high school anymore."

Candy smiled again. "Oh that's right. Sorry. It's just that you smell better than you've smelled in a long time, and you've even fixed your hair. When's the last time you did that? You're looking pretty cute to go out for no particular reason. In fact, you're looking down right pretty. Grown up, even."

Lindsey didn't answer at first, didn't even make eye contact with her sister, but only looked in her general direction. "I only met him once. It probably won't happen again."

"I see." Candy rummaged through her clothes, pulling out a pale blue knit top with short sleeves and a neckline that made a subtle V without plunging to the navel like most of Candy's newer blouses did. She held it up to Lindsey and then handed it to her. "Try this on. It will highlight your dark brown hair."

Lindsey pulled the blue knit top on, and Candy rearranged it, smoothing it out slightly. She walked around her looking at her from every angle. Her painful smile grew wider and wider as she walked.

"Now that is adorable. It will get preppie interested, but it won't give anything away." She looked at her sister sternly. "Don't ever give anything away. You understand what I'm saying. Nothing. Especially not yourself. You are a beautiful young woman. Cherish it. Remember what's really important."

Lindsey nodded. "Thanks. I'll remember."

Candy's face told her that she was asking, telling, and pleading all at the same time. The way she smashed the frozen vegetables to the top of her head also told Lindsey that her sister was really hurting this morning.

Lindsey hated it when her sister was hung over, and she couldn't help wondering what her sister thought was really important.

Candy bit her lip as she held the crude ice pack on her head, and Lindsey watched her sister's eyes as she circled her in their small bedroom.

Moistness and a flicker of youth shown from the tired steely gray pupils that had been so vital only a few years ago. "That looks so good on you. Keep it. I bought it for a preppie once, but I never got a chance to wear it before I outgrew it in more ways than one."

Candy dropped her gaze to the floor as her voice trailed off into a choked whisper. She reached into the waistband of her skirt, which Lindsey noticed had been torn, and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill. "I almost forgot. Here's the hundred from Cowboy."

Lindsey's stomach felt sick like it had the night before. The sweetness of the moment disappeared into the ugliness of last night. Maybe Candy could cope with it, but it totally disgusted Lindsey. "I didn't do anything, or were you too drunk to remember?"

Candy nodded without looking at her. "Yeah, I was pretty wasted, but actually, you did do something." Her voice was lifeless and matter of fact as she held out the hundred-dollar bill. "You completely confused Cowboy last night when you stood up to him and turned him down. I guess most women don't say 'no' to him, especially when he offers them lots of money."

"I thought it was only fifty." Lindsey crossed her arms and looked suspiciously at her sister.

No emotion showed on Candy's face as she returned the gaze. "Once Cowboy conned the kid at the convenience store into bringing a pizza here, we moved right on past the fifty-dollar thing. He paid the kid fifty bucks to bring the pizza as obscene as that sounds. No way was I settling for fifty bucks after that. Here, take it, and don't ask."

Lindsey shook her head. "I think I'm going to barf. I don't want the money…especially now. I don't get you, Candy. How can you stand there and call paying fifty dollars for a pizza obscene while you have a couple hundred dollars tucked in the waist of a skirt that looks like it was ripped off of you? I think I'll just wear the gray shirt I was going to wear." She started to take the blue knit top off.

"Don't…please…wear the blue one." Candy grabbed her arm to stop her. "That way I can remember the time when I could have-should have. Please!" Candy turned her face from Lindsey, and tears filled her eyes with several making their way to her cheeks. Her unsteady hands caught them when they reached her chin. She wiped them off with the backs of her hands. "I'm sorry. I haven't cried in a long time. It isn't good for a ho to cry. Once you start, you can't stop."

The fear in her sister's eyes screamed for understanding as she pleaded, and the depth of the sadness in her words made Lindsey's throat tighten. She fought back her own tears and pulled the blue top back down before throwing her arms around her sister's neck and hugging her as hard as she could. "Don't call yourself that, Candy."

"Sorry, kid. Facts are facts. That's what I am. No sense trying to hide it." Candy turned away from her sister.

Lindsey could feel the desperation in her sister's arms as she clung to her. "You may be acting like that, but that's not what you are. I know the real you, and I love the real you so much. Just stop acting like something you were never meant to be. Let's all get out of here, you, Mom, and me. Let's start over. I've always looked up to you."

Tears ran freely down Candy's face now, and she turned back to look at Lindsey. They flowed way too fast to wipe off even with the blanket Candy had wrapped around her. "Boy, it's been a long time since I heard anyone say that. 'I love you' is just not allowed in my line of work." She tried to force a smile, but couldn't. "I wish I could start over, kid, but it's just not that easy anymore."

Lindsey grabbed her sister's arms with both hands. "I can help. I'll get a job. I'll get two jobs and bring in money if you guys just quit. You are all I have, all I care about. I need you." For a moment Lindsey held on to her dream of starting over as she held on to her sister, and she told herself that she would never let go of either one until it came true.

Candy pulled Lindsey to her, put her arms around her, and sobbed. "Stop it, Lin. You're killing me."

"Well, isn't this touching?" A cigarette dangled from their mother's mouth, and smoke came out of her nostrils when she talked. She leaned in the narrow trailer doorway to the bedroom, looked at both of them, and then focused on Lindsey. "Don't you look nice? We could draw a whole new group of clients in here with a fresh look like that."

Candy stepped in front of Lindsey to protect her like she had the night before. "Don't, Mom. She's only 17. Leave her alone." Candy's eyes flashed with anger.

Their mother didn't budge. The ash from the cigarette still dangling in her mouth dropped to the floor, and she didn't even look at it but kept her gaze fixed on them. Lindsey knew her fear was showing even though she tried to stare back at her mother defiantly. Her mother only grinned strangely as she stared Lindsey down.

"Dear, sweet little Lindsey, enjoy these next few weeks. By the time the summer's over, you need to decide whether you're going to join the family business or not. We can't support three of us here unless everybody does her part."

Her mother laughed in a way that made Lindsey's stomach sick again. She dropped the cigarette to the floor and twisted her bare foot on it to make sure it was out without showing the slightest bit of pain on her face. She just stared without feeling in her eyes.

Lindsey gasped. "I'll never…"

"You'll never what?" her mother snapped. "You think you're better than your sister and me? Prove it." She turned and walked toward the bathroom. Before she went in, she looked back through narrowed eyes at Lindsey again. "You'd better figure out what you're going to do then, precious, because if you stay here, you'll end up just like us." She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her.

Candy turned to her sister, and Lindsey sobbed until her whole body shook. "Candy, I just couldn't…do…that. I couldn't."

She convulsed and shivered until Candy held the blanket around herself securely with one hand and pulled Lindsey close with the other arm. "Shh, don't worry. I wouldn't let you. It's bad enough the way it is. It's never going to happen to you. Never. I'll talk to Mom."

Lindsey looked up from the comfort of her sister's arm. "Would you? Please."

"Of course," she said softly as she tucked her blanket to hold it up, took Lindsey's hairbrush and stroked her hair, until Lindsey quit sobbing. Then she kissed the top of Lindsey's head. "Go find preppie. Talk to him. Enjoy being with him, and forget about all of this. I'll turn the light out early once Mom falls asleep. Don't come back until then. Say 'hi' to preppie for me. I never got a chance before..." Candy stopped and took a deep breath.

Lindsey put her forehead on her sister's. She hadn't felt this close to her sister in years, maybe ever. "Candy, I'm worried about you. What's going to happen to you?"

"I'll be fine. Really. Now get out of here." Candy motioned toward the door.

"And thanks for the hug earlier. It was almost like we were kids again. I really needed that. Sometimes…" She turned her gaze to the ceiling, and Lindsey knew her sister was fighting back more tears.

"Sometimes what?" Lindsey's question begged for an answer.

Her sister looked down and shook her head. "Nothing. Just get out of here while you still can." Then she looked up at Lindsey again.

Lindsey met her sister's eyes resolutely with her own. "Thanks for the cool top." She took a deep breath. "I'm not leaving you behind. If you won't quit, then you're going to have to show me what to do so I can do my part here when I join you. I know nothing."

Candy grabbed her sister by the shoulders. "Listen to me. Don't even think about that. I mean it. I will not let that happen to you, even if I have to throw you out myself. I'll think about quitting, but that's all I can promise right now, okay? Now get out of here, and don't ever say that again."

Nodding, Lindsey turned and walked slowly to the door, grabbing a notebook and two pencils from the counter before she left. The door slammed behind her, and it had never sounded so hollow, and so final to her before.

Inside the bathroom, Julie dug through an ashtray on the sink to find a cigarette butt. She put a blackened, crumpled half inch butt with lipstick on the filter into her mouth and made three shaky attempts to strike a match before her hands finally calmed enough to light it.

Julie held the charred butt tightly between her lips as she lit it and took an extra long drag of the exceedingly bitter smoke. She finally coughed when the acrid smoke filled her lungs, and blue smoke came out of her nose and her mouth at the same time that tears filled her eyes.

"It had to be done," she muttered as she slumped to the floor and leaned up against the commode. Her head buried itself into her arms as she leaned on her knees. "Had to be," she said again as the tears filling her eyes spilled down her face and onto her arms folded under her bowed head. "She's all the self respect I have left."

Three

Hanford had two churches. Locals called them the upper church and the lower church, which really described them better than their denominational affiliations anyway. There were three ways to get into the upper church. You were born into it; you married into it; or you bought into it by making generous donations. There was only one way to get into the lower church: through the front door.

Lindsey would have gone to either church, as long as she got to wear frilly dresses and other fashionable outfits that most girls had. Even when she was younger, she dreamed of having nice clothes. She wore out two different paper doll sets, designing her own outfits for them before her mother told her she was too old to play with them anymore. That's when she switched to the notebook. It was the third one she had packed with page after page of "The Lindsey Line."

She decided to look around inside the churches to get an idea of what people might look like on Sundays. Lindsey had never been inside either church and tried to open the door to the upper church. It was locked, so peering in through the windows was her only option, but she couldn't see much, or get a feeling for the church itself.

The door to the lower church was unlocked, so Lindsey opened it and peaked in tentatively. Two older women told her firmly that today was cleaning day and asked her to leave. They told her the church would be open as usual on Sunday if she wanted to come back then. Nodding in response, she thanked them and looked around as much as possible for the few minutes she was allowed to remain inside.

After almost 18 years of wanting to know what the churches looked like, Lindsey had finally gotten up enough nerve to find out, but she couldn't. She was locked out of one and virtually thrown out of the other one because it wasn't the right day to be there.

It was early afternoon when Lindsey arrived at the park and sat down under the burr oak tree. Hank wouldn't be there for hours if he came at all. The oak tree was always a welcome refuge, but it was even more soothing today. She took off her sandals, leaned back against the tree trunk, and dangled her bare feet over the edge of the bank as she always did.

As she held her bare legs out in front of her as she had for years, she couldn't help notice that her legs actually did have a nice shape to them. She scanned up her body from them, and the borrowed blue top emphasized the curves of a young woman, not a girl.

Had those changes happened over night, or had she just noticed them for the first time because Hank gave her a reason to notice them? The skinny pair of legs that had barely reached over the bank the first time she came to the tree when she was in seventh grade had changed.

A lot of other things had too. Even Cowboy had noticed before she did. His leering was repulsive, but he didn't offer to pay $100 just to look at a skinny little girl. He wanted the woman she had become.

As she began sketching the Lindsey Upper Church Line of clothing, she realized that her clothes needed to look more like women's clothes than they had before. She would design clothes like this from now on if she ever left Hanford and the Wenig River. Without giving it another thought, she picked up a stick on the ground beside her, tossed it into the water, and watched it swirl away.

"These are really good." Lindsey awoke with a start, completely disoriented. Rubbing her eyes with both hands, she looked around. The river flowing by, the canopy of leaves overhead, and the roughness of the tree bark she had been leaning against brought her back to the park. Hank was sitting next to her, barefooted and cross-legged as he studied her drawings, and he was even more gorgeous than she remembered.

"Welcome back," he said warmly. "Have a nice nap?"

Lindsey stretched both arms over her head and tried to get her heart rate back under a million. He's back. I'm not dreaming. He's back! She grinned so she wouldn't shout. No matter how out of control she felt, she always managed to appear calm by smiling. It had worked for her in debate and other speech class activities, and it worked now.

"I guess I must have fallen asleep. What are you doing here?"

He brushed his hair back from his forehead and leaned back against the tree only inches from where she was. He turned his head and looked at her with those eyes again. "I made reservations for us to have dinner at this table. I hope you don't have any other plans. I know it's a little spur of the moment."

Lindsey smiled again. Stay cool, Lin. Don't freak. "You're in luck I just happen to be free tonight. Is the food any good here?" All she had to eat in the last two days was a few carrots, an apple and the pieces of cold pizza, so anything would be fine. Food was a luxury item in the trailer. It usually came in a pizza box with the gentlemen callers. Lindsey was just thankful that it wasn't always the same kind and that there was frequently a left over piece or two.

"Well, the pizza's pretty good here," he said, "but I saw you eating that for breakfast when you walked by the bank this morning, so I think we'll probably go a different direction."

Panic almost choked her. "Oh no. You saw me this morning?"

"Yeah, I did." Hank's eyes turned their gaze from her face to her knit top and then her cut off shorts as he talked. She felt almost exposed under his gaze. No boy or young man had ever looked at her like Hank was looking at her, not even Cowboy. "You look pretty good in the morning." He looked into her eyes again, and she wasn't sure what was worse, having him look at her, or having him look through her.

"You're kidding," Lindsey blurted out. "I looked hideous. I was just going for a walk and didn't realize how bad I looked until I saw my reflection in a store window. Now that I know you saw me, I'm totally embarrassed."

Hank kept his eyes on hers. "Really? You shouldn't be. I thought you looked great. Of course…" His eyes made the circuit down her body again, this time taking particular notice of her legs, which she was suddenly glad she had shaved. His gaze came back to the light blue top and stopped for a minute. "You look totally amazing now. That blue is a beautiful color on you."

"Thanks," she said softly, barely retaining her composure. It was the first compliment a boy had ever given her, and it felt so good, she wanted to wrap it around herself like a blanket. Hopefully, she wasn't as red as she felt right now.

"You're welcome," he said smoothly as he brought his eyes back to hers.

"Hungry?"

Oh yeah! I'm hungry, and food would be nice too! She felt ashamed of herself for even thinking like that but remained calm and managed to say simply, "I could eat." It was amazing how much breath it took to say three one syllable words like that. Maybe it wasn't just the words. "What are we having?"

Hank turned and reached to the side of the tree, pulling a picnic basket she hadn't seen around in front of them. He took a red and white-checkered tablecloth out of it and spread it on the ground with a flourish that made Lindsey laugh. Her enjoyment of his performance seemed to please him as he set a wooden candleholder and a single candle on a plate in the middle of the tablecloth and lit it.

"It's fried chicken at the club tonight, but it's so stuffy there, so I got take out. Mashed potatoes, corn, rolls, a little tossed salad, and fried chicken. Berry pie for desert; I think it's blueberry." He described each item as he pulled them out of the basket and placed them on the tablecloth as if he were presenting courses at a fine bistro. "I hope you like iced tea."

Lindsey nodded having trouble restraining herself. This was real food.

Before she asked any of the questions screaming in her head, she was going to eat. First things first.

Hank started to reach for a piece of chicken, but Lindsey gave him a quick frown. He stopped mid reach. She took the two plates from the picnic basket and put mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn on one, dished up salad in a bowl and put a roll in top of it. "White meat or dark, sir," she asked with a playful smile on her face.

Sitting back against the tree, he appeared to be slightly amazed and definitely amused. "Dark, if you don't mind."

Lindsey smiled, put a chicken leg and a thigh on the plate, and handed it to

Hank along with the salad.

"Thank you, miss." He bowed his head slightly.

"You're welcome." She bowed back. "And it's Lin. No sense being so formal if we're going to have dinner together."

"Perfect." Hank laughed and set his plate in front of him. "I'll wait for you. Would you care for some tea, Lin?"

"That would be delightful." Lindsey put a chicken breast and all the other items on her plate as Hank poured the tea. "If you're going to bring the food, the least I can do is serve it. I might even do the dishes," she added, as she took her paper plate and set it in front of her.

They both ate as if they hadn't eaten in a while, and Lindsey didn't ever remember food tasting better to her, or having a more exciting dinner partner than Hank. They agreed to take a break before having dessert. Besides, it was time to talk.

"So what's going on here, Hank?" Subtlety was not Lindsey's strong suit, so she just started with what seemed to her to be the obvious question.

Hank looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Hank. We've gone to school together since we were little. You barely noticed me until yesterday. You come from THE family in town, and I come from somewhere behind the gas station in a trailer with a notorious reputation. Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"

Hank shrugged. "I like picnics. This looked like a good spot for one."

"Uh huh. You've got better spots behind your guest quarters for a picnic. Try again. It's not that I'm ungrateful, but…"

"You think I want something."

Lindsey's eyes brightened. "Exactly."

"That's a little cynical, don't you think?"

"Or realistic. So, are you going to tell me?" Lindsey kept her best poker face fixed on Hank's eyes and tried to remember that she was asking the questions.

Hank shifted the plates with the bare chicken bones to one side and offered her a piece of pie, holding it up in front of her eyes and waving it back and forth. It was blueberry. She could see it. "Should we have dessert first? I have ice cream for it."

Lindsey licked her lips. It had been a long time since she had homemade pie, let alone blueberry pie with ice cream.

Hank pulled out two Dixie cups and waved one in front of her teasing like he had with the pie. "What do you say, Lin?"

Resistance was futile. She took both the pie and the ice cream. "Okay, but you're not leaving here until we have this discussion." Without further ado, she dumped the partially softened ice cream on top of the pie and picked up her fork.

"Fair enough. I knew the pie would work." He winked after she took the pie, and it wasn't fair, even though he said it was. She loved both blueberry pie and the wink. He was definitely playing her, and it was working. Still, once they had finished the pie, he looked at her before she could say anything and said simply, "I do want something."

Lindsey's skin tingled from the way he said that, and she wasn't sure why.

"What?" she asked tentatively.

Hank leaned back against the tree and looked at the ground before he turned his soft, brown laser gaze on her. "You're right. There are lots of places where I live to have a picnic. Some of them are almost as pretty as this place is, but…" He hesitated and looked over the river and threw a twig into the water before he looked back at her, "I'd have to eat there by myself. What I want is a friend."

Lindsey frowned. "Come on, Hank. You don't expect me to buy that. What happened to Jenna? The last time I saw you two together, she was climbing all over you. And when you get bored with her, there's always Pam, Ellen, Eileen, and let's see who else? Actually there's only one person I can think of who isn't on that list, and that would be…hmmm…ME."

Hank grinned and put his hands behind his head as he leaned against the tree. "Are you saying you want to climb all over me?"

Don't say it. Just don't. Lindsey looked the other way decisively.

"I'm sorry." He sat forward and sounded sincere. "Really, I am. That was uncalled for. I'm such a smart aleck sometimes."

Lindsey turned back to him with fire in her eyes and in her gut. He had hurt her, and she didn't care who he was. "You think? There might be an even better word to follow smart, and if I weren't a lady, I'd probably tell you what it was." She took a deep breath. "I'll give you one more chance. What do you really want?"

"I want someone to talk to," he said without hesitation. "Someone to be my friend…I really need a friend who doesn't expect or demand anything from me…someone who will listen… someone who…I don't know…just someone. You available?"

Lindsey felt a stab that hurt almost more than the last one. "You mean I seem safe because I should know that you couldn't possibly be interested in me."

"No." Hank leaned forward and touched her lightly on the arm again.

"That's not what I mean. I'm sorry if it sounded that way."

His touch gave her arm a delicious tingle, but she pulled it back from his hand. "What do you mean, then?" She could barely speak; he looked and sounded so sincere.

Hank touched her arm again, and this time, she didn't pull it back. "I drive by here almost every day, and almost every day I see you sitting here by yourself. More than once I've thought I should come over here and at least say hello. You looked so lonely."

That cut even deeper yet. Now she was a pity case, or worse, an opportunity waiting to give herself to the first person that stopped by and said something nice to her. "So, it never occurred to you to say 'hello' in school? I'm not talking about an in-depth conversation here, I'm talking about 'hello.' One lousy word. We had almost every class together since kindergarten, and not one lousy 'hello.' Of course, I understand. It wouldn't look too good for the rich banker's son to be seen talking to the daughter of the town whore, would it? Lot safer out here where nobody can see."

Lindsey couldn't believe she let that all out. After all, he fed her, but then Cowboy fed Candy too, somewhere in the middle of…."Do you think I'm just going to roll over on my back because my mother does? Is that what this is all about?"

Hank shook his head, but he kept his hand on her arm.

"Good."

"I guess I had that coming."

His hand never moved from her arm. Her head told her pull back, but her heart asked why? Leave it there. She went with her heart.

"I know it must seem like that," Hank continued. "Maybe it even was a little at first, but it's not now, especially after tonight." He looked at her blue top again and then her legs, and then everything, and he appeared to breathe a little deeper himself. "When did you become so beautiful?"

She let his question pass and said nothing. Nobody had ever called her that before, and she didn't want to mess up the sound of the word echoing in her ears by saying anything.

His gaze never dropped from her eyes. "Would it help if we went down town and had this discussion on the bench in front of the bank? I'll do that if you want. I don't mind being seen with you."

Something about "I'll do that if you want," melted her. Maybe he meant it, maybe he didn't. It didn't matter at this point. He was sweeping her off her feet, and it felt just slightly better than fantastic. She shook her head and looked down at the hand that was setting her arm on fire. Then she looked up at him again. "That's not necessary. Besides, there probably aren't any more people down there at this time of night than there are right here, so what difference does it make?"

Hank laughed. "You're probably right about that."

Lindsey took another deep breath and tilted her head to look at him. "You've been awfully nice these past two days. The least I can do is hear you out. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little sensitive."

He squeezed her arm a little harder, and the tingle almost burned. "It's all right. I can see why you…it's all right." He took his hand off her arm and leaned back against the tree.

Lindsey guessed it would be improper and a little too obvious if she grabbed his hand and put it back on her arm where it had been, so she just made sure he saw her glance at it and sat back to listen. "Go ahead then."

"I'm an only child, so that's lonely right there. In addition, I'm the banker's only child, so everybody expects me to be spoiled rotten, and I am. There's no doubt about it, but that makes the loneliness worse. Our house is the biggest and nicest around. You starting to get the picture?" He looked at her curiously like he expected her to answer.

"Yes, I get it." Lindsey nodded. "But pardon me if I have a little trouble feeling sorry for you. I share a back bedroom in a smelly old trailer with my sister, my mother, and whoever is paying to spend part of the night with them. Sometimes there are several different whoever's, and I don't know any of them." Lindsey focused on Hank's eyes to make her next point.

"And so you don't have to ask, I'm not part of the action. I don't…"
Hank put his hand over her mouth. "You don't have to explain anything to me. I'm a jerk, but I'm not that big of a jerk. It's none of my business what goes on there."

Lindsey pulled his hand away from her mouth. "Well I want to explain. I don't turn tricks. I don't do any of that stuff, even though a lot of people just assume that I do. It totally disgusts me, but I love my mother and my sister because they're all I have." She tried not to think about her mother's ultimatum earlier or remember how much it still hurt.

"I believe you." Hank brushed the hair back from his forehead. "You made your point. I'm not asking for sympathy. It wouldn't do any good even if I were. Nobody's going to feel too sorry for me, no matter who they are. You're no different from anybody else; I understand that."

For some reason that felt like the nicest thing Hank had said to her so far.

"You're no different from anybody else." If only that were true.

"Okay," she said, "I just wanted to get that up front. I'll try not to interrupt anymore."

Hank leaned forward to make sure he made eye contact and grinned.

"That's okay. At least I know you're listening."

Lindsey grinned back and shrugged. "You bought me dinner. I should listen." Without thinking about what she was doing, she touched his arm lightly similar to the way he touched hers. "I'll listen as long as you want if you keep buying me dinner."

He looked at her hand on his arm and smiled. Then he raised his head and tilted it to the side blinking his puppy dog eyes like he was trying to understand what he was being told. "Be careful. I might take you up on that," he said hoarsely. "Thursday is steak night at the club."

Lindsey tried not to get her hopes up. "Medium rare, and I'm all ears." She patted his arm before pulling her hand back.

"And they're very nice ears, I might add." He gave her a complete body scan again that he obviously meant for her to see. "But then, everything about you is very nice, in a sweet sort of way."

Her entire body felt flushed, so she smiled to remain calm as she always did, and focused. "That one is going to cost you, Hank, my dear. I think I saw another piece of blueberry pie in that basket. Hand it over."

Hank laughed, reached into the basket, and pulled out a slightly smaller piece of pie. "Somehow I knew you were a blueberry pie person. This is fun. I should have stopped here a long time ago, or said hello in the hallway." He winked. "I thought I'd beat you to that one this time."

Whew. It worked. "If I were you, I'd get on with what you have to say, or you're going to have to go get more pie." She took a generous bite.

Hank held up his hand in mock surrender. "OK, OK." He took a deep breath. "I hate being the banker's boy, the town rich kid. First of all, it doesn't mean that much in a Podunk town like this one."

"You really like that word Podunk, don't you?" Lindsey purposefully kept from looking at him and concentrated on another fork full of pie.

"It fits so well," he responded. "I don't want to go to Northwestern. They'll all be just like me there."

Lindsey could see him looking at her so she just kept her head down eating her pie and hoping that if she kept her mouth full, she wouldn't interrupt again.

Hank gazed at the small patch of grass between them. "I don't want to be locked into a career at this point in my life. I have no idea what I want to do, but I know I don't want to do it here. I don't want to just take over the bank. The place gives me a headache. There are so many other options out there."

"Poor baby." Lindsey looked up from her pie and smiled quickly. "You're just so talented and have so many possibilities, you can't decide which one of the wonderful things at your fingertips to pick. You have no idea at all?"

"None," he said firmly. "And I'll overlook the 'poor baby' comment. I get the message."

Lindsey smiled quickly again. "Some of us have no options at all."

"I want to come back to that in a minute," Hank said. "All I know is that I want to get away from here and do something that means something. I want to do something important."

"Politics?"

He looked at Lindsey and frowned. "You think politics is important, that it means something?"

"Probably not." She finished her pie and handed the empty plate back to Hank. "I just thought somebody like you would think it was."

It was obvious from the look he gave her that she had struck a nerve.

"What do you mean, 'somebody like me'? What kind of somebody do you think I am?"

Lindsey shrugged. "I don't really know what kind of somebody you are, Hank. I've just started to get to know you. I guess I just meant you're somebody important. That doesn't automatically make you bad." She narrowed her eyes. "Or good."

Hank looked up at the tree he was leaning on. "Yeah, I'm important all right, as long as I stay in Podunk. If I go to Northwestern, I won't be anybody. There will be a lot more important people there than I am."

Lindsey nodded. "So that's what you're really worried about. Being a nobody. Hey, you want to see what a nobody looks like, drop by the trailer just about any evening. We specialize in nobodies. The trailer is usually full of them."

"It really bothers you, doesn't it?" He reached over and touched her arm again.

She nodded as her lip quivered. "More than you could ever know." Her mother's threat and her pledge to Candy that she would never abandon them rang in her ears, and both made her shudder.

Hank noticed. He slid over closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. "You want to just sit here for a minute?"

It wasn't a come on or anything improper, just a genuine offer of comfort and friendship. Lindsey knew the difference. She had watched the professionals. Still, her heart raced out of control with his strong arm around her shoulders, and she smiled. "Is there any more pie?"

"Afraid not," Hank responded. "Besides, I'd be willing to bet you couldn't eat a third piece."

"And you'd lose that bet," she said as she moved closer to him, and they both leaned against the tree while they watched the river. "It's okay. You can owe it to me…and, yes, it really, really bothers me. I love them both so much."

She stopped talking, and Hank patted her arm gently with his free hand as he held her securely with his arm around her shoulder. He reached for another twig, threw it into the water, and looked over at her. "Let's just sit here and watch the river for a while."

Lindsey looked back with tears just below the surface and nodded gratefully. "Okay."

The quiet moments that followed filled Lindsey with an achy warmth that hurt and felt wonderful at the same time. Neither of them said a word. They just sat there together, and Lindsey was in no hurry for the moment to end because she knew nothing could ever feel better or sound softer than the ripple of the river flowing by, the rustle of the breeze blowing through their tree, and the silent space that joined them.

Finally, Hank spoke softly. "You have a lot of class. You know that, Lindsey? And you have a lot of guts; I think more of both than any girl I have ever known."

Lindsey turned her head to him. "You still trying to soften me up? You're out of pie, remember?"

He looked into her eyes. "I really mean it. You handle your home situation with incredible grace and dignity, and here I sit whining about being rich. I'm ashamed of myself. And you handle me…well…you just handle me. You don't put up with any of my crap. It makes me feel free, and I like that. I don't have to pretend. Most everybody is always sucking up." He looked out over the river again.

"Even Jenna? She doesn't seem like the suck up type to me."

He turned his head back quickly. "She's the worst."

Lindsey held her breath. Their faces were only inches apart. "Not with other girls, she's not." She fought to keep her breathing under control. Some part of her had to be.

He glanced at her mouth and then looked back into her eyes. "That's why she's the worst. She's such a phony. I know what she's really like. She isn't fooling me for a second."

"Why have you two been such an item then?" Lindsey fought hard to keep from staring at the two soft lips only inches from hers, so she tried to focus on the space between his mouth and his eyes.

"Because it was what I was expected to do. Daddy said so. Jenna's folks have a lot of money in Daddy's bank. It wouldn't be good to upset them. They might take their money somewhere else."

Lindsey moved closer. "And she's pretty and just a little hot."

Hank looked away, and Lindsey was relieved. So was her heart. Even as young as she was, it was pumping way too fast to be healthy.

He turned back suddenly. "Yeah, she's pretty, hot even, but I'm not looking for just pretty and hot."

She hoped Hank didn't see her gulp as he gazed at her. "Wh… what are you looking for?" She couldn't help it; she had to ask.

Hank looked at her mouth again as he hesitated. "I'm looking for beautiful. It's way better than pretty and hot. I'm looking for someone who will fall in love with me because of who I am, not what I am. I want to be somebody's Prince Charming, and I want to deserve to be. I want a Princess, not royalty, but a real Princess."

Lindsey had to look away. Every word from his mouth brought him closer to her even though he hadn't moved physically. She knew what lust looked like in a man's eyes because she saw it every night. Something was definitely going on in Hank's eyes, but it wasn't lust. It was something entirely different, and whatever it was, it totally unnerved her, mainly because it sent the tingle in her arm running wildly through the rest of her body, and she didn't know what to do with it.

"Well, I hope you find it…her…whatever." Lindsey kept looking the other way. The calm certainty that gave her control with a smile before had deserted her. She couldn't trust herself to look at him right now. She had resisted the urge to raise her hand and volunteer when he described what he wanted to find, but it was all too new, too intense and more than a little overwhelming.

"I hope I find her too." His voice was soft, barely audible, but she could feel it even though she wasn't looking at him. "And I hope you find him."

"Me?" She turned around and looked at his eyes even though she hadn't meant to, and he was still close, still looking at her. "I…I thought this was about you." Her voice almost squeaked.

"Who said it wasn't?" It was then that Lindsey realized that puppy dog eyes glow in the dark if you're close enough to them, and she was definitely close enough.

He blinked lightly but didn't move. "Maybe we should continue this conversation tomorrow night if you want to have dinner again. I'll make sure we get the same table about the same time. Interested?"

Stay cool, Lin. A back flip will give you away. "Sure, I guess, but what if it rains?"

"Then we'll go somewhere else. We can go over to the shelter by the road, unless, of course, you'd prefer the bench in front of the bank." He nudged her shoulder with his. "We could meet a little earlier to make sure somebody saw us together."

Lindsey smiled and looked down at the ground. "Touché. This will be fine. It's a little more private, and I'm okay with that other business now."

He smiled at her response. "What do you want to eat?"

"Anything you bring. I'll have my nice ears on." She nudged him back.

"Just…not pizza, if that's okay. I eat an awful lot of pizza, and frankly, I'm a little sick of it." His smile had brought her composure back from wherever it had been hiding. "Do you want me to bring something?"

"Maybe sometime," he said, "but not tomorrow. I'll get that. I'll try to surprise you." He bumped her shoulder playfully again with his.

Not anymore than you already have. "I'll look forward to it." She helped him put the remains of the picnic dinner back into the basket and shook the tablecloth before folding it up, putting it in the basket and handing it to him.

He slipped the basket over his arm. "You want a ride?"

She stuck her hands into her pockets nervously. "Maybe next time. I need to walk all that food off." He turned to walk away, but she reached out and caught him by the arm. "Thanks." She wanted to say more, but the words choked in her throat, so she had to convey those unspoken words with the look in her eyes.

"Thank you," he said. "It was great." He turned and walked slowly toward his car. He looked back twice in less than twenty yards and waved both times. Lindsey was pretty sure she waved back although she didn't feel much in her hands or arms at that moment.