Chapter 7: The Lantern

Giles didn't answer in front of the crowd.

He took my good elbow and walked me past the board and the stalls.

We stopped at a bench by the duck pond.

Behind us, Dean's voice rose, then dropped as Carol's cane tapped on the pavement.

Phyllis had stayed behind with Dean and the crowd.

I sat down.

Giles stood for a moment.

Then he sat at the far end of the bench with his hands hanging between his knees.

"I left town the Monday after your mother's dinner," he said.

"I know. Your mother said you took a job in Boston."

"I'd had the job for weeks. I hadn't told anyone, because I was going to ask you first."

He looked at the water.

"Ask me what?"

"If you wanted to come with me."

My stomach dropped.

"I wrote it down that night," he said. "I couldn't say it at the table with both our mothers watching."

"The paper in your pocket."

He looked at me, surprised that I'd noticed.

"I carried it through the whole dinner. After you went into the kitchen to help with the dishes, I gave it to Dean at the door."

"You gave it to Dean."

"He was standing right there. He said he'd put it in your hand."

"What did it say?"

Giles turned his head, and for the first time all weekend he looked afraid.

"That I was leaving for Boston on Monday. That I'd be at the Lantern on Main Street on Sunday at seven, at the corner table."

He swallowed.

"That if you came, I'd be glad. If you didn't, I'd stop asking and never bother you again."

The duck pond made small sounds against the rocks.

"I never saw a note, Giles."

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