WHAT YOU ASK FOR

The rides got longer though they always ended up back in The Holdout‘s drive. Horvath tucked Liane into the back seat while Jeanie slid silently beside her, and sometimes now, while they walked to his car, Liane would rub her head against Horvath's shoulder like a cat marking her own.

It was just after that December's first light snow. Horvath was in his usual booth, waiting, and Jeanie came in with Liane.

Jeanie was finished, we all saw that.

She sat down but Liane went over and stood smiling in front of Horvath, and he got up with his strange courtesy and saw her into the seat beside him.

They took their ease about it. Waffles piled with syrup and fruit, and a pot of tea. Once Liane put up a graceful hand to Horvath's face, laughing, as though she'd been his chatelaine from before any of us were born; when they'd done, he left the money on the table and they walked out together, his arm around her waist as though it had been created only to rest there.