She said goodbye and they headed to Luigi’s. Aside from the supermarket freezer case, it was the only place to get pizza in Mahalaton Lake, since large restaurant chains hadn’t discovered their small corner of Washington. Aside from Luigi’s, they had Elizabeth’s Tea Parlor, the Lakeside Bar and Grill, McKenzie’s BBQ, Pat’s Burger Hut, three cafés, a bakery, a deli and the Full Moon Bistro for natural-food fans. If you were looking for anything exotic, you were out of luck. Of course, in winter there was both a coffee cart and restaurant at the ski resort, but few people in town went up there to eat.
“Hello, Danny,” called Barbi Paulson, Luigi’s delivery driver, as they came through the restaurant’s double doors. It was before five and the place was still empty. “Didn’t you want me coming out to the house with your Friday-night pizza?”
“I was at Grandma’s,” he explained, “so we’re having pizza on the way home.”
“Glad to hear it.” Barbi gave him a wink. “I don’t want to lose my best boyfriend.”
“Nuh-uh.”
Danny skipped to the arcade tucked into a side room of the restaurant. It was a bright, cheerful place that was scrupulously clean and maintained. Hannah had played those same games as a girl, her mother’s objections notwithstanding. Luigi hadn’t bought anything new for the arcade in years, saying a classic was a classic.
“You sure got a great kid,” Barbi said.
“I’m pretty fond of him.”
“And he’s real smart.” The other woman grinned, but her smile faded and she leaned on the counter, the bangles on her arms clattering on the polished wood. “I’ve been thinking about you being a teacher and all. You know I never finished high school.”
Hannah nodded, recalling that Barbi had dropped out of school to get a job. Though only thirty-two, she’d already had a rough life between a hard-drinking father and a mother who’d died when she was nine. People in Mahalaton Lake weren’t always comfortable with the way Barbi dressed, but they admired her honesty and how diligently she worked.
“Anyhow, Luigi keeps bugging me,” Barbi continued. “He says I got to get a high school diploma because you can’t get anywhere without one. Luigi treats me great, but it sure would be nice to have one job, instead of these part-time gigs all over town.”
“You might earn more with a general equivalency diploma,” Hannah agreed diplomatically. It was hard to say what would make a difference in Mahalaton Lake, but statistically, graduates did better financially than dropouts. “I can check when the next exam will be.”
“I already got the schedule.” Barbi fidgeted with the bangles on her arms, looking embarrassed. “But right now there aren’t any night classes to help study for the damned thing—that is, the test. And I wondered...I know you do tutoring and stuff. I’d pay, of course,” she added hastily.
“I’d be happy to help you study,” Hannah assured her. “But as a friend. I wouldn’t want to be paid.”
“That isn’t right,” Barbi protested. “You got a kid to support.”
“What isn’t right is the school board failing to offer enough adult courses.” It was something that deeply irritated Hannah. “But I have access to the study materials and we can go from there.”
Barbi chewed her lower lip so hard that most of her bright red lipstick disappeared. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” Hannah said. She’d been lucky to have parents who’d encouraged her to get an education and were there to help if she needed it. Offering the same support to a friend was the least she could do. “I’ll call when I have everything together. We’ll have fun.”
“Barbara,” Luigi hollered as he came out of the kitchen. “That pizza is ready for delivery.”
“Gotcha.”
Barbi left with the insulated pizza bag and Luigi came to the counter with a broad smile. “Ciao. I’ll take care of you, Hannah. Your usual pizza?”
“You bet.” Hannah thought about the lucrative lease she’d been offered and decided to splurge. “But add a garden salad and an order of garlic chicken wings.”
“Excellent. I heard Barbara speak to you about tutoring,” Luigi said as he took the money. “I’m glad she’s finally doing this.”
“She mentioned you’ve been urging her to get a GED.”
“I was sixteen when we came to America from Sicily. My mama told me to study hard, not just to get ahead, but because learning is how to stay young.” He thumped his chest. “My heart is not sixty-eight years old—it is strong like I’m still a boy.”
Hannah’s lips curved into a smile. “How is your mother, Luigi?”
“Ah, she goes to the church every day. She tells the priest when he makes a mistake in Mass and then works in the kitchen, making gnocchi to raise money for another stained glass window. She will not be happy until every window in the sanctuary is done. And she is reading War and Peace. So far, she likes Tolstoy better than Hemingway.”
“War and Peace is a good book. Say hello to her for me.”
She paid the bill and went into the arcade to watch Danny play as she waited for the food. He was an exceptionally bright kid, a year ahead of children his own age and curious about everything, including his deadbeat dad.
But whenever she started to feel bad for Danny or got upset with her poor judgment, she should remember Barbi Paulson. An absentee father was surely better than one who was drunk all the time. God knew what Barbi’s childhood had been like, and Hannah suspected Vic Paulson still came around now and then to make life difficult for her.
* * *
DRIVING HIS NEW Jeep Wrangler, Jake followed his agent’s car to Mahalaton Lake, Washington, grateful to be away from doctors and the hospital.
Andy Bedard, his agent, had offered to stay and help for a few days, but Jake would have none of it. That was why he’d insisted they bring two vehicles; if Andy had his own transportation, he’d have less excuse to become an unwanted houseguest.
It would have been worse if Jake had let his half brother drive him. Matt had been the one who’d arranged for Jake’s transfer to a hospital in Seattle and gotten top specialists to treat him...including Matt’s own father-in-law, Walter McGraw. Matt wasn’t a bad sort, and he’d chartered a flight and flown to Alaska as soon as news had come of the accident. Still, Matt had become depressingly domestic since giving up his carefree party days and getting married. At least he’d traveled extensively before; now he wore a suit every day and handed out money for a charitable organization.
His wife was nice, though, full of energy. And while Layne worked as a researcher for a weekly regional news magazine, she hadn’t asked him to do an interview.
Jake shifted his aching leg as they drove through the little town and out onto a road lined with tall evergreens, before turning right onto an even smaller road. It opened to a clearing where a two-story structure sat overlooking the lake.
Not bad.
It was a large mountain lodge, built solidly of natural beams, with a hint of the Arts and Crafts architectural style. In fact, it was reminiscent of some of the work done by Julia Morgan, an early twentieth-century California architect. Andy was right—if he had to be trapped in one place, Huckleberry Lodge was more palatable than most locations.
Small-town America made Jake shudder, and the cities were worse. Not