If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without handles. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. Never really thought about Him—people don’t. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons. His glasses were gone. She kissed Lucia’s cheeks and patted her growing belly upon rising, to which her new husband disapproved, but Lucia loved the attention and adoration. Just a formal marriage.
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