LITMIR.BIZ

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seen you in a while, Acey.”

      “Oh, but I’ve seen you! On TV, eh?”

      Rosalia tried to appear nonchalant, but her grin was an easy giveaway. “Just lucky. Really. You won’t believe how lucky.”

      “Sure I’d believe it. The store gets a nice cut, right?”

      “I’ll get what’s coming to me, yes.” Rosalia moved to the other side of the counter and rang up the juice.

      Acey slid the top half of her body across the counter with her money and lowered her voice. “Tell me. Do you know who it is? Who won?”

      “No one knows, huh?”

      “No, not officially, but…” A man plopped two rolls of toilet paper on the counter and asked for cigarettes. Acey stepped aside until his purchases were bagged and he was on his way. Then she leaned in again. “You must have some idea who won, Rosalia.”

      “Why you say that?”

      “Because you know just about every single customer by name around here. Did someone tell you? Tell me. I’ll keep it a secret, I swear.”

      “I bet.”

      “I will!” Acey protested, but Rosalia’s eyes were sparkling. “Come on. Spill it.”

      “I don’t have anything to tell you. Still a mystery.”

      With one last scrutinizing gaze at Rosalia’s face to see if she was holding out, Acey slumped her shoulders. “I was so certain you’d know.”

      “I am surprised, it’s true,” Rosalia said, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear. “If someone win, I think they would come in here and be—” she waved her arms around “—woooo…”

      “Exactly. But no?”

      “No. It is a mystery,” Rosalia repeated.

      Acey picked up her plastic bag. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll just keep wondering.”

      She took one step toward the door and was about to say goodbye when Rosalia said quietly, “But.”

      Acey whirled around.

      “I am thinking someone.”

      Acey rushed back and dropped her bag on the floor. “Aha! You do have a suspect!”

      “I know nothing,” Rosalia said in a stern mother’s voice. “I am only thinking.”

      Acey circled her hand in an impatient “go on” gesture.

      “There is a man. He started coming in here maybe six months ago. About your age. Not from here.”

      “He has an accent?”

      “Yes. And so nice. He asks about my daughter’s daughter all the time after he once seen them here. And in February, that big snow, he shoveled the front for me. He helps me, like you do.”

      “What’s his name?”

      “I don’t know. He asks about me but keeps so silent about him. But he, he bought a ticket that day. For some reason, I think…everyone else would come tell me if they win but he’s so quiet, maybe he’s keeping quiet on that, too.”

      Acey thought a moment. “Has he been in here since the numbers were picked?”

      “Yes, but he acts the same. Nothing different but I have a feeling about him.”

      “Huh.”

      “Maybe,” Rosalia said, “you can look at him, tell me if you have the feeling, too? He comes every day, at almost exactly five minutes after one, for lemonade.”

      “Interesting. Okay,” Acey decided. “I’ll be here tomorrow at five after one. Just point him out to me.”

      “You won’t miss him,” Rosalia said. “I think no girl would miss him.”

      “You won’t even notice I’m gone. Twenty minutes, Lydia, please?”

      Acey glanced nervously at the clock. As usual, the time had flown by and it was now five of one.

      “Oh, crap, Acey, it’s crazy in here,” Lydia complained, slicing a pie and boxing it.

      “I know, but I have a…a…” Acey struggled. “A doctor’s appointment.”

      “Twenty minutes for a doctor’s appointment?”

      Acey hated to lie, so she hardly ever did. Which was why she was so awful at it. “They’re squeezing me in.”

      Lydia paused and studied her. Acey squirmed with guilt. Why was she doing this anyhow? Wasn’t Lydia right yesterday? Why should you care who won the lottery if it wasn’t you? But Acey did. For something so wonderful to happen right up the street…it was like a miracle almost, and Acey was a pilgrim. She just wanted the tiniest glimpse at the lucky person. And she desperately wanted it to be someone nice, because people who had piles of money, like Charlie, so often didn’t deserve it.

      “You never skip out like this,” Lydia said. “Is it serious?”

      “Um, not really, but like I said, he’s fitting me in, so…”

      “Are you pregnant?”

      Acey handed a customer some change. “Thank you,” she said to him. “I’m not even answering that,” she said to Lydia.

      “Just checking. I mean, I didn’t think you’ve been getting any action since Charlie, but…”

      “Can you please cover for me?” Acey asked through gritted teeth.

      “Well, it’s not going to be easy. Okay. I’ll do it on one condition.”

      “Yeah?”

      “That you tell me the truth. This is no doctor visit. This is about a guy, right?”

      The minute hand edged toward one o’clock.

      “Yeah,” Acey said. “It’s about a guy.”

      “Then go, girl.” Lydia grinned. “Twenty minutes.”

      Acey pulled off her apron. “Can I borrow your sunglasses?”

      Lydia pulled them off her head and handed them to Acey, who grabbed them and sprinted out the door.

      Acey peeked over a box of Cap’n Crunch and watched the door. She held a shopping basket, but just for show. Lydia’s sunglasses were enormous for her face, but they made Acey feel covert. She was on the case. Like Nancy Drew. Nancy Drew with big hair and acrylic nails.

      She checked her watch. Four minutes after one.

      “It’s almost time,” she heard in her ear, and jumped about three feet. She turned to find Cassandra, wrapped in her nubby black cardigan, rocking back and forth. “The end. It’s upon us.”

      “Oh, okay,” Acey said weakly. Cassandra had been a regular for at least a dozen years. Acey didn’t know her real name. Steph had nicknamed her Cassandra a long time ago because of her constant doomsday prophesies.

      Acey humored Cassandra each time she saw her, which was more and more seldom as the woman aged. The end was probably near for her, and it made Acey a little sad. Not for the first time, she wanted to offer Cassandra something, like coffee, but she never knew how to ask so that it sounded more friendly than pitying. The old woman shook her head and shuffled away. Acey sighed, turned back to the cereal and saw that someone had come in. Rosalia was already deep in conversation with him.

      Cowboy boots. Really scuffed up, too. As if he’d just left Silver hitched to a mailbox outside.

      Acey got a funny little prickly feeling.

      Her gaze traveled up long legs. Long legs. That ended in a…wow, nice ass. Much smaller than her own, which usually daunted her but for some reason, she had the urge

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