Page 30 of Deathtoll

“You’re the one making everything complicated.” He didn’t quite succeed at keeping the frustration from his voice. “I fell in love with you years ago. I was clear about wanting you then, and I’m clear about wanting you now.”

“I’m not the same person I was five years ago.”

“I know. I’m in love with this version too.”

“A stupid woman who’s scared to have kids?”

“You’re far from stupid. And you’re allowed to have fears.”

“You don’t have any fears.”

“Plenty.”

“Like what?”

“I’m scared to death of this conversation. That you’re telling me you changed your mind about us.” He stood there with his heart in his eyes. “Look, Kate. This is it for me. I don’t play games.”

Nobody could be that sure of themselves, could they?

“I’m figuring it out,” Kate told the universe under her breath, then faced the shelves of yarn and fabric in front of her.

An entire see-through storage box was filled with nothing but knitting and crochet needles. She spottedtwosewing machines. If Betty had ever gone overboard, it was in her craft room.

The towering shelves, packed with a jumble of supplies, overwhelmed Kate. She knew little about fabric arts. She was going to need help in there.

“Maybe we should save this room for tomorrow,” she told Linda as she walked back out. “Let’s do the kitchen next.”

She marched straight to the nearest cabinet and peeked inside. “Open food boxes to the garbage, anything unopened to the Broslin Food Pantry?”

“Or to the church. We collect cans every Sunday and deliver them together the following week. We have a whole system set up for sorting, double-checking expiration dates, boxing by allergen information, and so forth. Might as well take advantage of it.”

“Sounds good. I’ll start with the nonperishables.”

Kate set everything with old expiration dates aside on the kitchen island, then, when she was finished, she reached for the garbage can under the sink.

Since it was almost full, she decided to take it out before filling it up again. She was halfway to the front door when Murph strode in, back from his church run.

He looked at the garbage and pulled up short. “Did you eat that?”

“What?”

“Burger.”

A crumpled yellow wrapper sat on top, Main Street Diner Takeout printed on it in red. “No.”

“Emma?”

“Not hers either. We didn’t bring any food. I figured we can just pop back home when we get hungry.”

Murph looked at Linda.

“I had breakfast at home,” Linda said. “Have to eat first thing so I can take my morning pills. Betty probably had the burger for her last lunch. Guess she slipped up with her diet. She told me she was cutting out fast food. She was trying to be careful with her diabetes.” Linda nodded toward the three carrot muffins in a grocery-store plastic bag on the counter. “I’m even surprised she had those. She told me she started baking all sugar-free.”

“I haven’t eaten yet.” Murph walked over to snatch the bag. “Mind if I grab these? Should be still good, right?”

Linda shrugged. “I’m sure Betty wouldn’t mind.”

“Thanks.” Murph turned his attention to Kate and reached for the garbage can with his free hand. “Let me take that. I need to go back to my truck for a second anyway.”