Fern leaned against the railing that overlooked the mall’s center court, lifting first one foot, then the other in an attempt to relieve the pain from her corns. Below her, the shrieks of the snow-crusted children rose in painful spirals of sound as the snow hill melted beneath the combined assault of bodies and heat.
Mercifully the Elvises were on break, reducing the crowd enough for Fern to pick out Donald’s forlorn figure propped against the central pillar. Soon she would descend the escalator and admit defeat in her attempts to find Luci Seymour, but there was no hurry . . .
Almost as if he read her thoughts, Donald looked up and saw her. She straightened, giving a disheartened shrug to the question she knew he was asking. Time to join him. She turned, almost missing his sudden outbr
