That’s when he realized she wasn’t even carrying a purse. That was more than just peculiar. He could rationalize the absence of baggage, but he’d never seen a woman without a purse. Not even a poor woman down on her luck.
Inquiring would have been impolite and, besides, he was sure Alicia would notice it eventually and ask.
“Neat outfit,” Wendy was saying. “I’ll bet it’s comfortable.”
“Comfortable enough.” The woman looked past her. “Might you have something to drink? I am a little thirsty.”
“Inconsiderate of me.” Alicia was honestly upset with herself. “I should have asked you right away.”
“I’ll get it.” Wendy moved to the fridge. “What would you like? We’ve got Coke, cherry RC, kiwi soda, ginger ale, orange juice.”
“Some cold water would be most welcome,” said the woman gratefully.
“How ‘bout some lemonade?” chirped Steven. “Hey, I’d like some lemonade.”
“Get it yourself.” Wendy made a face at him, replaced it with a wide smile as she looked back at their guest. “With ice?”
“Ice would be wonderful.” The woman looked around, taking in her surroundings for the first time. “These odd vehicles and their luxuries. Quite extraordinary.” Her voice trailed away, each word not so much ending as fading like a puff from a silver flute.
“You interested in cars?” Frank asked conversationally.
“I am interested in everything.”
Frank set the cruise control and relaxed. In a little while they’d reach Baker, pull off, and find someplace to have lunch. By tilting the overhead rearview mirror down slightly he could watch as Wendy handed the woman a plastic glass full of cold water. Ice cubes clinked against the yellow acrylic. The hitchhiker sipped delicately instead of gulping. She reminded Frank of a doe lapping at a forest stream. He knew about deer drinking from streams because his chain of sporting goods stores sold a lot of hunting rifles. His gaze traveled down their visitor’s body, a petite enigma wrapped in rainbow silks.
Knock it off, he told himself. This isn’t a wholesalers’ convention and your wife and kids are with you. You’re just giving a stranger a lift. That she happens to be uncommonly beautiful has nothing to do with it. Your thoughts were virtuous before you got a look at her. Keep ’em that way.
As the woman sipped ice water, Wendy reached out to finger a trailing flap of orange fantasy.
“Ow—hey!” She drew back her fingers, shaking her hand. “I got a shock.”
“Static electricity.” The woman lowered her glass and smiled reassuringly. “Touch again if you want.”
Wendy looked uncertain. “You sure?”
“It’ll be okay. Go ahead.”
This time Wendy was able to rub the thin material between thumb and forefinger. “It’s so soft. Where’d you find it? Rodeo Drive, I bet. Or maybe San Marino? There are some neat new shops in San Marino.”
The woman shook her head. “Not on Rodeo Drive and not in San Marino.”
Frank struggled to place their passenger. She didn’t look a day over twenty-six, but her manner of speaking suggested someone a lot older. Or non-American.
“It’s really rad. How many pieces in it?”
The hitchhiker glanced down at herself. “Just one piece.”
“Aw, c’mon! Really? How does it stay in place, like, here?” Wendy tugged at the waistband of her jeans.
“Practice, and knowing what you’re doing.” Abruptly she turned her head to look forward, straight at the rearview mirror that was providing Frank with his view.
There was a brief flash of light, as though the mirror had unexpectedly jerked around to catch the sun. Frank blinked. Reflection from something in the road, he told himself. She hadn’t moved.
“I want to thank you, Mr….?”
“Sonderberg. Frank Sonderberg. My wife Alicia, our daughter Wendy, son Steven.”
“Hi,” said the boy.
“Hello yourself, little man.” Steven beamed.
“How long were you waiting before we picked you up?” Wendy wanted to know.
“Quite a while. I was beginning to think no one would stop for me, and my destination is too far to walk.”
“Anywhere out here is too far to walk.” Wendy shifted on the couch. “Couldn’t you have found some shade?”
“There is no shade out there.” The woman’s voice was solemn. “No place to hide.”
“You’re damn lucky we did stop.” Frank glanced at his wife. “Told you we were doing a good deed. How far you going?” he called out.
“We’re going to Las Vegas,” said Steven helpfully. “I’m gonna play video games all day and go swimming until I fall asleep!”
“You are not going to play video games all day, Steven.” Alicia tried hard not to make it sound reproachful. “You need to get some exercise.”
You need to get off your fat little butt once in a while, Frank murmured to himself.
“You wouldn’t be interested in where I’m going,” the hitchhiker told him.
“I would!” said Steven.
The woman looked back down at him. “You might at that.” She held her glass out to Wendy. “Perhaps I will have some of that lemonade.”
“Sure. We have lots.”
“What am I thinking of?” The woman rose from the couch in a single, flowing motion. “Let me help.” She followed Wendy back into the compact kitchen. Alicia watched them dig the lemonade out of the refrigerator, turned her chair toward her husband.
“Frank, I wonder if we did the right thing.”
“What …?” He lowered his voice. “What are you talking about? You saw her, standing out there all by herself. If we hadn’t picked her up she could be in serious trouble by tonight.” He gestured at the road. “Rides look about as scarce as she said they were.”
“Some trucker would have stopped for her,” Alicia declared with conviction. “She’s pretty. I’m surprised one hadn’t picked her up already.”
“You can’t tell she’s pretty until you see her up close,” Frank pointed out, “and there haven’t been that many trucks, either. As soon as it starts getting hot like this they try running at night. What’s wrong with helping someone in trouble?”
“It’s not like you, Frank. You never stop for hitchhikers.”
“So this is my trip for doing different things. Don’t tell me you’re worried about her? Look at her. She’s barely as big as Wendy.”
