aren’t too many of us left, are there?”
“Yes, sir.” Harry gave an obligatory laugh. “I mean—no, sir.”
Bruce Martin smiled brightly. “You two look soaked to the bone. I’ll have Fortunata get you some towels and something warm to drink. I’m sure she can rustle up some hot chocolate or something. I take it you like hot chocolate, Harry?”
“Yes, sir, that’d be great. Thank you.”
He raised a single lean finger to his lips and rested the tip against his chin as if to indicate deep thought. “Are you from town, son?”
“Yes.”
“Paletto you said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do I know your parents, Harry?”
“I—no, I doubt—probably not, sir, no.”
He nodded and dropped his hand. “The only reason I ask is the name sounds familiar for some reason.”
“Maybe you’ve seen my dad’s van around town,” Harry explained. “He’s an electrician.”
“An honorable profession. None of us would have any lights without him, right?”
Harry smiled because he felt it was expected. “Right.”
“What does your mother do?”
“What is this,” Madeline said suddenly, “an interrogation?”
Her father never looked at her, keeping his eyes on Harry instead. “It’s called a conversation, Maddy. People have them all the time.”
“She works part-time at Keller’s Fish Market.”
“So you live down in that area then?”
“Yes, sir, over on Barden Avenue. On the far side of downtown.”
Bruce Martin seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. “You go to school with Maddy, I take it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Same grade?”
“Yes.”
“And what are your plans, son? College in the works?”
“I hope so.” Harry shrugged helplessly. “I’m an honor roll student but my parents can’t really—well, I’ve applied for some scholarships. Haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Good for you. Hard work and perseverance, that’s the key, right, Harry?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You hear that, Maddy?” he said, glancing at his daughter quickly before offering Harry a conspiratorial wink that was no more sincere than anything else he’d said or done since he’d appeared in the office doorway. “Sounds like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders there, young man.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He offered his hand and Harry shook it again. “Pleasure to meet you, Harry. Hope to see you again.” He turned and strolled back toward his office. “I’ll ring Fortunata and have her set you guys up with some cocoa. I’d join you but unfortunately I still have some work to do.” He stopped in the doorway as if something had just then occurred to him. “Oh, and Maddy, Fortunata informed me earlier that dinner will be a bit early tonight, right around five, all right? So please plan accordingly. And Harry, you take care.”
“Thank you, sir. You too.”
He pointed at him playfully before disappearing into his office. “I like this guy.”
“Which of course means he doesn’t,” Madeline said the moment he was out of sight.
Harry drew a deep breath. His heart was still racing. “He doesn’t like me?”
“Does it matter?” As quickly as she’d gone, the old Madeline had returned.
“No, I guess not.”
“Come on.” She sighed and moved away from the staircase, where she had originally headed, and veered off toward another doorway beyond it. “I was going to show you my room but that better wait until next time.”
Harry followed, both happy and anxious that she apparently planned on a next time taking place. Although he never voiced it, he was relieved that Rip