Chapter Four
Wendy Waiting
Wendy, waiting on the corner of 58th and Lexington, turned her collar up against a gust of wind. Pressing the crown of the rolled brim hat a little more securely onto her head, she cursed herself for having forgotten her gloves. With grim determination, she took up her position once again: one hand fingering the leather strap of the small handbag slung over her shoulder, a knee raised so that the foot could be planted flatly against the wall behind her. She leaned back — stoically prepared to wait, hoping it wouldn’t be too much longer.
Across the street one of those ubiquitous work crews was doing whatever work crews did to the streets of Manhattan — one more time. She checked her watch, and turned her head, catching sight of her reflection in a shop window.
