As they drove through Sister Bay, one of the many small towns on the bay side of the peninsula, Isaac watched as the passing fields and orchards were replaced by charming houses and quaint shops. Banners announced the upcoming weekend’s Fourth of July fireworks and brat frys. Bass leaned forward as much as his seat belt would allow with his head on a swivel, soaking up all the new sights. Isaac noted the location of a baseball field where they could hit a few balls. A few people waved as Sanna drove by but she didn’t wave back. Perhaps they were confusing her with someone else. By the time Elliot eased into the parking lot for the Piggly Wiggly, a squat white building, Isaac knew that wasn’t the case—too many people had taken notice for it to be coincidental.
“Who are all those people?” he asked.
“What people?” Sanna looked around the parking lot as she pulled to a stop.
“The ones waving at you as you drive by?”
“I didn’t see anyone.”
“This is not reassuring me about your driving skills.”
Sanna shrugged.
“Do you know them?”
“They probably recognize the truck. It used to be Dad’s.”
As they walked into the store, Bass grabbed a cart and went straight for a display of chips. Isaac noticed as the other patrons reacted to Sanna. Some, clearly tourists, paused as they took in her height, their heads visibly tilting back. She seemed to ignore them, but slouched down a few inches anyway. An older gentleman stocking tomatoes nodded to her in recognition. She nodded back and aimed their trio toward the deli counter.
“Hey, Sanna,” the older woman behind the counter said. Her gray curls were tucked under a black hair net and her name tag read Bev. “How’s your dad?”
Sanna sighed. “Mrs. Dibble told you?”
Bev smiled and nodded. “She was buying him things he’ll need in the hospital.”
“He’ll be fine assuming he doesn’t push it.” Sanna perused the case and pointed to each item as she spoke. “Can I get a pound of ham, a half pound of cheddar, and a large container of the broccoli salad?”
Bev nodded but gave Isaac and Bass a glance, clearly curious about how they fit into the picture. Perhaps Mrs. Dibble hadn’t shared all the gossip. As they waited, Bass drove the cart around one of the nearby islands stocked with local cheese and sausages. Isaac reached out to stop the cart before he crashed into another shopper.
“You know, Mrs. Dibble is the one who gave me your dad’s name to contact for a job. I’m assuming she’s the same?” Isaac asked.
Sanna nodded. “Thank God there is only one Mrs. Dibble.”
Bev handed Sanna her items, plus an extra container of shocking blue fluff: blue raspberry Jell-O mixed with Cool Whip. Bass waggled his eyebrows in excitement.
“That’s on me,” Bev said when Sanna looked up at her. “Let us know if you need any help, dear.”
“Thank you. I’ll let Pa know it’s from you.”
They finished their shopping, filling the cart with frozen dinners and pizzas, jarred sauce and pasta, and hot dogs, plus a box of Pop-Tarts for Bass, who insisted on holding it in one hand as he pushed the cart with the other. As they checked out, the cashier gabbed about local goings-on while Sanna stared out the window.
“I hear the fireworks are going to be the best yet. Bev said some company from Illinois contributed extra money. Looks like the rain they were promising is going to hold off, too. Maybe you can take your visitors? Show them how we do it up for the Fourth.”
Even if Sanna didn’t seem to embrace them back, it was clear the locals thought of her as one of theirs. Isaac smiled at the man warmly as he took the groceries so Sanna wouldn’t have to carry them.
Driving back toward Idun’s, Sanna clucked her tongue as she slammed the brakes when a family of four walked into the street, even though there was a crosswalk at the end of the block, then scowled at the construction of a hotel on the outskirts of town.
“Not your favorite time of year?” Isaac asked.
“There’s a reason I don’t leave the orchard much. Without visitors, we couldn’t keep Idun’s, but do they have to be so oblivious to the world around them? Most just cross the street without looking, eat at the fancy restaurants, and forget to look outside and see what’s right there.” She pointed at the rocky harbor and tree-lined shores. “They’re missing it.”
“So winter is better?”
“It’s a lot quieter. Some of the speed limits are bumped up—which is nice. I read a lot more. When there’s a blizzard, it can feel like you’re the only person left in the world. I miss the trees, but I do get to spend more time with my cider.”
This was more like it. Finally, Isaac was getting to know her a little better. She was opening up.
“Do you get so much snow you can’t open your door to get outside?” Bass asked.
“Not recently. But I remember a few times when I was little, we would open the door after a big blizzard and it was a sheer wall of snow. The wind had blown just right to create a giant snowdrift. My dad had to climb out a window to get a shovel and dig us out.”
“Baller.”
Sanna shook her head and smiled at Bass’s reaction.
“Baller, indeed.”
Isaac wanted to hear more stories from her childhood—he wanted to know why he found her alone in the orchard instead of at the hospital with her dad, what she had ever seen in Thad, and why she so clearly preferred solitude when an entire county of people seemed to care about her. As she turned into the orchard parking lot, he noticed the small dragon keychain dangling from the ignition. So she’d liked it—he wasn’t sure she would. Pleasure that a little part of him was now in her life warmed his chest.
? ? ? ? ?
Sanna rolled the dingy sheets off the bed in the guest room, careful to keep the dust from jumping off the material. After doing the same with the ones covering the chair, dresser, and lamps, she plugged in the lamp and set the fresh bedding on the end of the mattress.
“Can I help?” Julie stood in the room. Sanna shrugged. They’d known each other twelve years, but if Julie had been paying attention, she’d have known that company was not what Sanna wanted. Julie grabbed the fitted sheet and fluffed it out so Sanna could grab the other end, both tucking in their corners. “Thanks for getting the rooms ready.”
Sanna shrugged. “Anders doesn’t know where anything is anyway.”
Julie’s jaw twitched, but she stayed silent as Sanna tossed her the flat sheet.
“He’s a good man.”
Sanna stopped straightening her half of the sheet and stared at Julie. Julie looked down at the bed and fidgeted with the edge she held in her hands.
“I wouldn’t know. He left. Just like the Donor.”
She knew Julie would know who she was talking about. At least Anders would have clued her in about that. She finished tucking her end and jammed pillows into their cases, tossing a few at Julie. They finished spreading the comforter in silence.