Cal Pipp. He caught my eye at Northshire Inn. I would have married the thirty-six-year-old had he asked me to be his faithful and loving husband for the rest of his life. Wouldn’t have contemplated his proposal in a second. Would have wrapped him in my arms, kissed him, and simply agreed to be his partnership until the end of time, hitched.
He didn’t live at the inn. Like Maddy O’Dee, he lived in downtown Templeton. Both rented flats from Norman Kelly, a real estate tycoon for the last sixty years. Both arrived daily at the inn around eight in the morning for their shifts, were determined laborers, and then returned to their private lives thereafter. Cal had me with his morning hellos, his friendly winks, and generous handshakes. That morning was no different.
I found him at the tool she
