“He was such a sweet-looking fella, red hair peeking out from beneath an overly large fedora. The hat had probably belonged to his father. A memento, she thought, of a man whose role the young boy hoped to fill. “I find that misery is eased when it’s shared with another,” she offered. Andy shook his head. “Not this misery.” He walked back toward the gate and Estella knew what she had to do. “Wait, please,” she called. Following him to the street, she smiled again. “It’s terribly cold... out here. Why don’t you come home with me and have something hot to drink? I have plenty of coffee.” She watched the emotion play on Andy’s face. He seemed to want her company, but at the same time there was something about him that appeared uncomfortable in her presence. “I can’t,” Andy finally answered. He pushed his gloved hands down into his coat pockets and began walking away. “But it’s Sunday.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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