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No, the thievery here was much more subtle. Dreams, hopes, dignity. Love.

She shook off the thought.

Carol was still scooting along the sidewalk, with Kate stuck to her heels. The

trees here were huge, most already turning to golds, reds, and burgundies. Quite

a difference from her neighborhood in Chicago, where all the trees were kept wrapped in iron cages. Blue sky peeked through the towering maples that lined

Washington, one of the main roads that led downtown to the city square.

“I don't want to be late,” Carol was saying.

“Late? For a shake?” She skipped forward a few steps to catch up. She wondered where Carol got all this energy.

“The lines might be long.” Carol plowed forward.

Lines? At Ray's Diner? She imagined a herd of senior citizens lined up outside Ray's, clamoring to get their pie shakes and coffee.

They had reached the downtown square where most of the Golden Grove

businesses were located. The square was clean, simple, and achingly

picturesque. Even so, Kate kept her head low, not wanting to risk more recognition.

Carol suddenly slowed and starting waving furiously as if she had spotted someone. Kate almost bumped into her backside and had to grab her shoulders to

avoid tripping over her. Ahead, she saw Ray's, green-striped awning and all. And

no lines.

“Sorry,” Carol apologized, tugging her along “Wow, look at those men's

beards.”

Kate swiveled to look in the opposite direction. Two guys were approaching,

chatting. One with a beard that looked as if it had been caught in a wind tunnel

full of egg beaters, the other shaped as a bird's nest with…were those real eggs?

Egg Beater was carrying a trophy, beaming. “You've got to be kidding me,” Kate

said.

“I know,” Carol said. “The windmill is much nicer.”

Kate frowned. He gets a trophy for basically sticking his face in a fan, and I

got squat for designing a work of actual art. Put another check in the “life isn't fair” column.

* * *

“Okay, we're here.” Peter had his hand on the worn brass handle of Ray's Diner,

waiting for Lucius, who now seemed to be less interested in a pie shake than waving at someone down the street.

Peter moved to see who it was, but Lucius turned and caught him by the arm. “Let's look at the menu before we go in,” he said, almost shoving Peter over

to the angled window where a faded yellow menu was posted.

“Lucius, this menu is the same one that was in the window when I was in high school. It's probably the same one that was there when you were high school.”

Lucius shrugged, and then a hand tapped him from behind. “Well, hello

there, Carol,” he said a little too loudly. “What a surprise. Fancy meeting you here.”

Pete smiled at his next-door neighbor Carol Harding, and then noticed the younger woman behind her. She was looking to the side at a cluster of the bearded guys. A heart-sparking flash of recognition went off in his head. The same wavy red-gold hair. The scent in the breeze…what was it called again…the

perfume? Lucky You?

All the memories came crashing. She was bright and beautiful, late

afternoon sun catching her hair, splashing it with gold. It was her.

Katie.

* * *

Are sens

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