boarded up.
“I want to ride in front.”
“Nope. Fares ride in the—”
“Stop, or I’m climbing over the seat.”
“You can’t do that.”
She tossed her purse onto the front seat.
“You just got out of the emergency room!”
“A very good reason not to mess with me.”
“All right, all right. Give me a minute.”
He stalled by making a big show of checking for othervehicles; there were none. At the next stop sign, she took the decision out of his hands, unlocked the back door, and hopped out. He immediately popped the rest of the locks and didn’t wait for her to buckle up before moving on. The only concession he made was to pull a clipboard, an expensive camera, and a half-empty pan of fudge out of her way.
“Mm, fudge,” she said.
He set it on the family-photo-laminated dash, as far to his side as possible.
“I’m starving.”
“I’ll stop at the next drive thru.”
She pouted, but it didn’t help.
All the photos on the dash were of children. Babies in swings, toddlers in a wading pool, kids in snowsuits and Halloween costumes, teenagers in prom attire. School plays, music recitals, camping trips.
“I know, I know, it’s a terrible thing to do to a car, right?”
“I like it.”
He gave her a funny look, as if he suspected she was lying to him. “Nobody else does.”
“They’re so sweet. Aw, look at this little girl. I wonder why she’s crying?”
“Because he got stuck in a hand-me-down snowsuit.”
Lilly grinned as realization hit. “But you’re adorable in it.”
“I’m an only boy.”
“And how old—?”
“Five.”
“At five, you were already gender conscious?”
“It was pink . I got even, though. When I passed Julieup, I insisted on a black one so she’d get stuck with it the next year.”
Hearing past the words, Lilly discerned a lot of affection between Jake and his sister.
“So these are all your family?”
“It’s Uncle Paul’s collage, so there’s kids from Aunt Joanne’s side, too.”
He was driving, so pointing out the different children was hit-and-miss, along the lines of, “The one hanging upside down on the swing set is my sister Jodie.” By the time Lilly’d located the upside-down little girl, Jake was on to another. After oohing and ahhing over several more children who’d been lucky enough to grow up in a normal family, Lilly turned her attention back to the streets. Few people were out. Those who were walked quickly through the falling snow, heads down into the wind as if they had a definite destination in mind, though none of the storefronts looked ready for any business, ever. Most were barred.
Jake fumbled with his tiny phone, made a quick call, and assured someone he was fine. “Really, I swear. Hardly a scratch on me.” When he signed off, it was with a warm, “Yeah, let everyone else know, okay? Love you, too.”
“Your mom?” she guessed.
“Sister.” He grinned then. “The Murdoch brigade worries about me. Since I got through on call waiting, and they both have speed dial, everyone’ll know in ten seconds flat.”
Lilly was thinking how nice it must be to have such close siblings when, down a side street, a small group of people caught her eye. Loosely congregated in a ragged line, they appeared to be waiting for something.
“What’s that?”
“Where?”
“Back at the corner, down that street.”
“Food kitchen.”
People in need! “Go back.”
“What? No way. I’m not taking you to some food kitchen.”
“Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, it’s for poor people. Homeless folk.” He continued driving away.
“Fine.” She settled back and pulled her cell phone out of her purse. “I’ll call another cab and give someone else a big tip. I’d go by myself, but someone blew up my limo.”
“And that makes you poor enough to take food out of their mouths?”
She shuddered. “I don’t want to eat there. I want to give them money.”
He stared at her.
“Watch the road.”
“I