Confusion fills Carole Lee's face. “Desiderio's back in town, isn’t he? Herb mentioned to Ellinor he spoke with him this morning. Didn’t recognize his car, at first. Herb saw him on the side of the road this morning when he was out mowing one of his pastures and thought Desiderio was broke down, but he’d just pulled over to make a phone call.”

She starts to say something else when Ellinor Sanctum appears in the doorway behind her. “Make sure to tell Desiderio I said hi! It’ll be so nice having him around again.” She scowls. “Or is it just a visit?”

I’m not one usually stunned into silence. I must also be wearing “a look,” because both women tip their heads to the side as they stare at me.

“Tomas, what’s wrong?” Carole Lee asks.

Slowly sucking in a deep breath buys me a moment to force back the chill growing inside me. “Herb…saw Desiderio? You’re sure it was him? He’s sure?”

My heart wants to leap at the thought that my guy’s in town…only to be immediately slaughtered by the thought that he hasn’t bother to, oh, contact me and let me know that fact.

Ellinor nods. “He didn’t recognize him at first because he’s driving a different car, and…” Her voice trails off. “Wait. He hasn’t contacted you?”

I stand and realize my hands are shaking. I tap the screen of my personal cell, just to make sure I haven’t missed any calls or texts, but there aren’t any.

Not from Desiderio.

Carole Lee’s expression darkens and she lays a hand on Ellinor’s arm. “You know, maybe he just looked like Desiderio to Herb.”

I’ll give Ellinor credit for being fast on the uptake. “He did say the guy didn’t seem to recognize him,” Ellinor adds. “And he said the guy had an accent. I mean, Herb could’ve been mistaken. I’ve been on him that he needs to get new glasses. He’s like a year overdue for a new prescription. But he thought with the Florida license plate—”

She falls silent when Carole Lee pokes her in the arm.

I pocket my personal cell and force a smile. “Ladies, I hope you enjoy today’s program. Sorry, I just remembered I need to do something downstairs.” They move out of my way as I quickly slip past them.

The last place I want to be is up here with the entire Methodist women’s group hypothesizing whether or not it was Desi, and the implications if it is him and he hasn’t contacted me.

I turn. “I’m sure it wasn’t him,” I say. “If it was, he would’ve let me know he was coming, and he hasn’t. If that was this morning, he would’ve been here by now. I went home for lunch—he would’ve stopped by.”

Carole Lee and Ellinor are both nodding now and I sense their barely bottled energy. They both want to talk about this with each other and simultaneously let me have my pride.

“You’re right, hon,” Carole Lee says. “I’m certain Herb was wrong.”

But I quickly head downstairs, taking the long way around via the outer aisles so I can avoid anyone heading down the center aisle to the stairwell. I let everyone know I need to run some errands and I quickly head out at a brisk walk toward home. Across the street, at Alacea’s Diner, I spot several of the women from the group emerging and crossing the street toward my store.

Now I’m wishing I drove to work today.

It takes every last ounce of self-control I have not to break into a sprint and call more attention to myself. Part of me wants to call Desi right now and find out for sure. Except that means I’m still torturing myself.

That was hours ago. There’s no way he’d be in town for hours and not come find me, right? Not like I’m hard to find. He obviously knows where the house is—heck, he’s still got keys. And he knows dang well where the store is. Can’t miss it.

No, he wouldn’t do that. Especially if he made contact with a local who’d know him.

It cannot be him. Logic and reason tell me that.

My heart, on the other hand, has just had the rug yanked out from under it at the realization that I am in no way doing “okay.”

I lock myself inside and lean against the front door, sucking in deep breaths to try and slow my pulse.

Jester, his feet softly padding on the hardwood floors, comes running down the hall from the kitchen and practically slides to a stop in front of me, where he sits and wraps his tail around his haunches.

Looking up at me, he meows.

I scoop him into my arms, bury my face in his fur, and cry.

Obviously, I’m not over the guy yet. I don’t think I’ve even started getting over him. I’m still stuck in…stasis.

Maybe I should go to book club tonight and let Edith ply me with blueberry pie.

Then again, maybe I should run up to Colley to a liquor store there, pick up enough to get me good and drunk tonight, and just plan on taking the day off tomorrow. I did work over the weekend and mentioned yesterday I might take time off during the week.

Or, maybe while I’m in Colley, I should look up the counselor I called a few months back and see if they can fit me in for an appointment.

Because I have a feeling if I’m this raw and shredded over a misidentification it means I seriously need some help.

Although reaching out for help from others has never been my strong suit. I tend to build walls and put up facades so people don’t worry about me.

The only person I let my guard down with…was Desiderio.

And I don’t even have him anymore.