Free Halos by Kristen Heitzmann Page A

and curly haired.”
    “So you got your dad’s height and your mom’s curls.”
    She nodded. “What about you?”
    “I don’t remember my mom.”
    She frowned. “Why not?”
    “She left us before I was three.” He sipped his coffee. How had this turned around on him? “So your mom fell in love with Ken and—”
    “His name was Brian. He gave her a Bible and said he’d help her read it.”
    “I bet.”
    “He told her about Jesus when no one in her family had ever believed. They didn’t have to. They had everything they needed.”
    “He offered her faith in place of the good life.” Steve leaned back and folded his hands.
    “He offered her truth.”
    “So she lied to her family and married him.” He half taunted, hoping to throw her off her game.
    “They eloped, yes. But she tried to reconcile. My grandfather refused to take her phone calls or read her letters. When they came back unopened, she stopped trying.”
    Steve studied the coffee in his cup. “There’s a price for running off.”
    Alessi studied him a moment too long. He had sounded vindictive.
    She said, “Mom was dyslexic. Everyone called her stupid, even my aunt Carrie, who was two years older. People made fun of her. Except my dad. He told her she was exactly what God wanted her to be.”
    Probably not much discrepancy between her intellect and the pool boy’s. Steve caught himself. Why was he automatically disparaging a man he’d never met? Just because he’d won the heart of a woman and lured her away from her family?
    “My mom was not stupid. She was brilliant, just not in testable ways.”
    He nodded, half believing it. Maybe that was the oddness he noticed in Alessi. “How did you manage after your dad died?”
    “Mom worked as many jobs as she could find. I worked with her.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Cleaning, mainly. Stocking shelves. Whatever she could do. There was not one day we didn’t eat three meals, even if it was from a single can.” She dropped her gaze. “I cry when I think of the times I complained.” To prove it, her eyes turned glassy.
    But he’d seen great acting before. Thankfully, Moll brought their plates before he had to determine if Alessi was for real. The steamy pot roast looked fork tender and smelled rich and peppery, the way he liked it. Gravy smothered the mashed potatoes, car rots, and onions. “Moll …”
    “I know. You’re speechless.”
    “Again.”
    She snorted, then left them.
    Alessi said, “I guess now I’m invisible.” She picked up her fork. “This morning she thought I was contagious.”
    “Moll’s just Moll.” Frankly, he found her abrasive personality refreshing after all his plastic, pious neighbors. Courtesy was one thing; Charity was taking its name a bit too seriously these days. Besides, Moll made him look good.
    Steve nodded at the bite Alessi had scooped. “Aren’t you going to say your mom’s grace?”
    “I think I’ll just be grateful for this food. It doesn’t need imagination.”
    Steve took a bite. It needed nothing but a touch of salt. He reached for the shaker at the same time she did. They both pulled their hands back. He said, “Go ahead.”
    She sprinkled the salt, then handed it to him. He touched her fingers when he took it. “Are you cold?”
    “It’s just from the root beer.” She touched him with her other hand and it was warm. Too warm. Barb’s were perfectly manicured doll’s nails. It looked like Alessi bit hers. But maybe that was because her toiletries had been stolen.
    “If I give you your pay today, you could go to Wal-Mart and get the things you need.” She could also skip town with the money.
    “Where’s the Wal-Mart? I didn’t see one coming in.”
    “No, it’s almost in Chambers City. About thirty miles outside of town.”
    She scooped potatoes onto her fork. “I’m not sure I’m up for that hike.”
    He’d forgotten her transportation situation. She’d have a hard time skipping town without a car, unless she’d