swatting f lies with his tail. As she f inished her ice
cream, she felt buoyant, like a balloon rising into
the sky.
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
During dinner that night, a car came grumbling
down the driveway. Conversation at the table halted.
“Are we expecting anyone, honey?” Mr. Bridle
asked his wife.
Ma Etty shook her head. “No—not that I know
of. But it could be the Goodsteins.”
Mr. Bridle rose to his feet and peered out the
dining room window. “Not Jim’s truck,” he said.
No one spoke as the car pulled into the parking
lot. Mr. Bridle and Ma Etty got up to answer it. The
air buzzed with anticipation. No one had come to the
ranch this late before, especially not unannounced.
After a long, loaded silence, a knock came at
the door. In the other room, the door creaked as
it opened.
“Hello,” Hanna heard Mr. Bridle say. “What
can I help you with at this hour?” He stressed
this
hour
, as if to impress upon the visitor that the late
visit was unwelcome.
158
