“My parents like you,” said a quiet voice at his elbow. A dark shadow was leaning against the doorway, her face quietly pensive. A stir of air made her curling hair ripple.
“Brittany.” He trusted that he hadn’t jumped and squeaked like a little girl.
She smiled mysteriously at him and tilted her head up to the night sky. The breeze was balmy, and stars were spangled across the night sky as if God Himself had thrown a handful of diamond dust across a black velvet cloth.
“I love it here,” she said quietly. “Some of my friends can’t wait to leave. College. Marriage. Someplace bigger. Not me. This is home. I’ve been in bigger cities. St. Louis. Memphis. Even New York, once, when we were on vacation. I hated it. It was noisy and crowded and smelly and it made my teeth itch and I couldn’t wai
