As she stepped onto the porch, a cloud crossed the sky overhead, casting the yard in shadow. The drizzling rain turned to tiny flakes of snow. They kissed Alice’s dark head and upturned face, immediately turning to droplets of freezing water.
“Look, Jewlee! Prittee.”
It was snowing and Alice was barefooted. Perfect.
Julia grabbed Alice’s coat and scooped the girl into her arms, carrying her to the car. She was halfway there when she heard the phone ring.
“That’s probably Aunt Ellie, telling us to watch the snow.” She strapped Alice into the car seat.
“Icky. Tight. Bad,” Alice said, running through her words for displeasure. “Smelly.”
“It does not smell and it keeps you safe.”
That shut Alice up.
Julia put a CD in the player and drove away.
Alice listened to the Pete’s Dragon soundtrack seven times without pausing. Her favorite song was “Candle on the Water.” Every time it ended, she cried out “Again!” until Julia complied.
Finally, they pulled into a spot in front of the Rain Drop and parked.
The song snapped off.
“Again?”
“No, Alice. Not now.” Julia leaned sideways and tried to put Alice’s clammy feet into her boots. It was like trying to put surgical gloves on wet hands. “Next time, I’m going to the mat for socks.”
She got out of the car and came around to Alice’s side. Opening the door, she smiled. “You ready?”
Fear flashed through Alice’s eyes, but she nodded.
“You’re such a brave girl.” Julia helped Alice out of the seat.
Alice moved slowly toward the restaurant, staring down at her feet.
“Don’t be afraid, Alice. I’m right here. I won’t let go.”
Alice clung so tightly it hurt, but didn’t say a word.
Julia opened the diner’s door. A bell tinkled overhead. At the sound, Alice shrieked and threw herself at Julia.
She bent down to hug the girl, held her tightly.
The Grimm sisters were at the cash register, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They’d obviously turned in unison at the noise, for now they were staring at Alice. Rosie Chicowski was behind them, tucking a pencil in her pink, beehived hair. To the left, an old logger sat alone in a booth.
Everyone was staring at Julia and Alice.
They should have come an hour ago, between the breakfast and lunch crowds. That was what she’d done last week, and they’d had the place to themselves. Slowly, she stood back up.
The Grimm sisters advanced, three abreast; Julia had a sudden thought about the horsemen of the Apocalypse. These days, apparently, Death rode in a battered urn in an old woman’s arms.
They stared at Julia, then at Alice.
Julia stared back.
Alice snorted nervously, tugged on Julia’s hand.
Violet reached into her purse and pulled out a bright purple plastic coin purse. “Here you go. My granddaughter loves these.”