She looks up at me, and immediately lowers head but then raises her clear light blue eyes and I see a shy smile. I continue with my shopping, but keep...her in sight … sort of! Then out of nowhere, a tall rough-looking guy approaches her grumbling something to her as he pushes the Brussel sprouts out of her hand saying, ‘Put those back … I hate those! C’mon, let’s go Dot!’ Obviously a boyfriend, since I didn’t notice a ring on her third finger, left hand. He seems like a jock or ex-jock, handsome. As I watched her leave, I thought about what Grace told me and I found a lot of holes in her story. First, the van was never any problem. I was a good mechanic, one of the best. It was fine when I left: a new engine, new brakes and tires and everything running like a top. That shouldn’t have changed that much in the time I had been gone. Anyway, the guys at the garage would have fixed anything at all for Heather at cost. And Heather didn’t have to work at all to support our child. What I sent. More

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