shrubs, she knelt in front of James. His big gray eyes peered up at her, pleading to be left alone. Annie’s heart sank as she stroked a wisp of hair off his face and summoned the most pleasant voice she could muster. “Your father is going to take you to a movie, and then he’ll bring you straight home.”
“I don’t wanna go.”
“He’ll probably buy you a popcorn,” Annie reminded him, but James shook his head. “I know you want to stay here, kiddo, but your dad really wants to spend time with you. You’ll be home before you know it. We’ll stay up later than usual tonight, so we can squeeze in a few books before bed, okay?”
Betsy wrapped him in a hug and placed a white pebble in his hand.
“Here, James. This lucky stone will make you brave.”
“Don’t you want candy?” Sean yelled impatiently from the driveway.
Annie gently took James’s small hand and led him out from behind the bush.
“Are you hungry?” Sean asked, grasping James. The little boy attempted to slink away from his father’s firm grasp. “Well, are ya or aren’t ya?” Sean demanded.
“He just ate dinner, but perhaps a treat at the movie would be nice,” Annie said, kneeling to hug James and kiss him sweetly on the ear. It was all she could do to refrain from scooping him up in her arms, running into the house and locking the door behind her.
“We’re going to have to fly to make it there on time. Those dinosaurs start fighting in ten minutes.”
“Wait,” Annie said as James buckled himself into the back seat. “I thought you were going to see a cartoon.”
“Cartoons are for wussies, right, kid?”
“Nothing scary, Sean. He’s only six.”
Sean gave Annie the once-over. “Maybe I should take you out instead, huh? I kind of regret letting you get away when you still look like that.”
“Stop it, Sean,” Annie warned, clutching Betsy against her side. Sean squinted down at the little girl.
“You can’t go ’cause you’re not invited,” he taunted in singsong. Betsy scowled up at him, her fierceness impressive for a girl her age. “Nice attitude you have there, princess. You’re taking after your mother in that department, I’m sorry to see.” He strolled back to the car, flipping sunglasses down onto his face. “Rude little brats like you don’t get popcorn and candy.”
“I wouldn’t want to go even if he invited me,” Betsy told her. “But I’d go to be with James.”
“I know, baby,” Annie replied, squeezing Betsy without tearing her eyes from the top of James’s head slunk in the back seat.
Sean would never physically endanger James, but she knew how easily a mean-spirited man could wound a tender little heart.
* * *
WILLIAM PERKED UP at the sound of voices. Because the diner closed early on Friday nights, he thought he’d have the place to himself to scavenge the fridge after spending the afternoon working on Old Red. Poking his head through the swinging doors, he discovered Annie and a pint-size replica in the dining room.
Annie’s head shot up as he drifted toward their table. He knew he was a sight, still covered in motor oil and grime, but Annie’s frown appeared more intense than usual as she crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. The little girl sitting across from her shoveled a large forkful of chocolate cake into her mouth and stuck her hand out when William introduced himself. He instantly decided he liked Betsy, chocolatey grin and all.
“What are you doing here tonight?” he asked, sliding into the booth next to Betsy as Annie had made no effort to accommodate him.
“Why?” Annie asked suspiciously.
“I didn’t expect to see you here. The place is closed, and I didn’t know you had a key.”
“Of course I have a key,” she said. “Who do you think has been opening and closing around here for the past few years?” William leaned back defensively. He knew his reaction registered when Annie paused, took a deep breath and started again. “We had a craving for cake.”
“We needed to get out of the house for a little while,” Betsy clarified, grinning up at him.
“Is everything okay?” he asked. Annie nodded before pressing a glass of milk to her lips and taking a sip, but she was far from convincing.
“Mom says we need to drown our sorrows in chocolate cake.”
“Cake is good for that,” he said without breaking his gaze from Annie. Something big was weighing on her, and although he knew he wasn’t her favorite person, he felt inclined to help.
“For my birthday I want a giant pink cake with hearts all over it. What’s your favorite kind of cake, William?” Betsy scooted onto her knees to peer up at him. Her chocolatey breath and puppy-dog eyes were so endearing, and so innocently invading his personal space, William couldn’t help but grin before answering.
“Chocolate, I suppose.”
“With icing?”
“Yes.”
“And sprinkles?”
“Sure.”
“And candy?”
“Betsy...” Annie said, her voice low and strained. Betsy sat back on her heels and eyed her mother for any indication she was in trouble. When Annie winked at her, she immediately relaxed and returned to her chocolate cake. “If you’ll excuse me a minute, William,” Annie said.
William nodded as Annie quickly slid out of the booth, her eyes already reddened with tears. She ducked into the ladies’ restroom, and he turned his attention to his chatty companion. She was a lively child. The joy she drew from a single slice of chocolate cake, her eyes goggling with excitement with each sugary lick, made him hard-pressed to recall the last time he had enjoyed one of life’s simple pleasures with such gusto.
“Betsy, how are you doing?”
She considered this. “Happy and sad,” she said.
“Why?”
“Happy I get to eat cake, but sad James isn’t here.”
“Is James your brother?”
She nodded solemnly. “We get sad when James has to go with his dad.”
“Oh.”
“We want him to stay with us all the time.”
“How old is James?”
“He’s six, and I’m eight.”
“So you’re the big sister, huh?”
Betsy beamed with pride. “I protect him when mom argues with Sean. She says I’m going to be a good mommy one day.”
“I’ll bet you will be.” The stress in Annie’s home became clear. Sending your child off with the likes of Sean Butler would put anyone in a bad mood. “What’s up, kid?” he asked as Betsy had hesitated. She had all but finished a couple bites of cake.
“Maybe mom wants the last of it,” she said, hovering her fork over the shared plate.
“Nah. I think you should finish it off, and we’ll get her a fresh piece.”
Betsy’s eyes brightened with delight. “Good idea, William!”
William stood and lingered near the table, waiting for the little girl to lick the plate clean.
“We’re getting you a fresh slice,” he told Annie, who’d marched out of the bathroom.
“No, thank you,” she replied, motioning for Betsy to join her. The little girl hustled