Claire nodded.
"Wife died five years ago."
Sophia lowered the dress.
"Does he want this date?"
Claire laughed.
"Probably less than you."
"Excellent."
"His sister is making him go."
"Even better."
"You might bond through mutual resentment."
Sophia smiled.
"What does he look like?"
Claire opened her phone.
"No."
Sophia raised eyebrows.
"You haven't seen him?"
"I have."
"Then show me."
"No."
"Why?"
"Blind date."
"Claire."
"You'll survive."
Sophia looked at the dresses.
One was black.
The other burgundy.
She chose burgundy.
Not because she cared.
Obviously.
An hour later she wore the fitted ribbed midi dress beneath a camel-beige coat, burgundy boots, delicate earrings, and enough makeup to look polished without appearing to have tried too hard.
Claire stared.
"You look incredible."
Sophia picked up her handbag.
"I look like I'm attending a funeral for my evening."
"You are impossible."
"Where is this place again?"
"Evergreen Café."
"Pine Hollow."
"About an hour."
Sophia groaned.
"An hour?"
"You knew this."
"I emotionally rejected the information."
Claire followed her downstairs.
"You have snow tires?"
"Yes."
"Phone charged?"
"Yes."
"Emergency kit?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Coffee?"
"No."
"You'll be late."
Sophia checked time.
Six fourteen.
"I'll make it."
Claire hugged her.
"Give him a chance."
Sophia stepped back.
"I'll give him dinner."
"Same thing."
"No."
She left.
The snow began twenty minutes south of Burlington.
Not heavy.
Small flakes at first.
Sophia turned the heat higher and followed navigation onto a quieter two-lane highway lined with pine trees and low stone walls.
The sky had already begun fading toward evening blue.
Christmas lights appeared on porches scattered along the road.
Sophia considered turning back.
Not seriously.
Mostly.
She wondered what Jake Morrison expected.
A mechanic.
Single father.
Widower.
She imagined flannel.
Beard.
Maybe a pickup truck.
Claire had refused photographs specifically because she said Sophia judged too quickly.
That accusation was probably accurate.
Sophia preferred "efficient."
At six thirty-eight, a warning light appeared on the dashboard.
She frowned.
Five seconds later the steering became heavier.
"No."
Another light.
"No, no."
The car lost power.
Sophia guided it onto the snowy shoulder.
The engine remained running roughly for several seconds, then died.
She stared at the dashboard.
Silence.
"Perfect."
She tried restarting.
Nothing.
Outside temperature showed eighteen degrees.
Sophia called roadside assistance.
Estimated arrival:
One hour forty-seven minutes.
She laughed.
Then swore.
Then called Claire.
No answer.
Probably showering before Christmas dinner with her family.
Sophia checked navigation.
Evergreen Café was twenty-three miles away.
She opened the car door.
Cold hit immediately.
Snow had strengthened.
She stepped onto the shoulder, boots sinking slightly.
The hood release took two attempts because she had never used it.
She raised the hood.
Engine.
Many plastic covers.
Several things that looked expensive.
Sophia stared.
"Excellent."
She knew nothing.
Headlights approached.
An older pickup slowed.
Sophia became alert.
Her phone stayed in her hand.
The truck passed.
Then brake lights came on.
It reversed carefully and stopped behind her sedan.
A man stepped out.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.