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sandwiches on trays and hooked a thumb at the microwave behind her. “You guys want those sandwiches nuked?”
    “No, it’s fine like this,” Trevor said, touching the plastic wrapper.
    Doug agreed and eyed a table in the back corner near the fireplace. But after Trevor paid, he headed for a table near the front door. Doug followed and took the chair that allowed him to sit with his back to the door.
    They talked shop while they ate, and as the noon crowd trickled in, Doug was grateful for Trevor’s casual greetings, bringing him into the lighthearted small-town chatter, but again, warding off any undue attention.
    They were finishing thick slices of apple pie that Vienne had talked them into, when Phil Grady, the pastor of Community Christian, the church Doug and Trevor attended, came in with the new youth minister from Clayburn Lutheran. Doug recognized the man from a photo that had been in the Courier . Pastor Grady went from table to table, introducing the new guy around.
    Doug had always liked Phil Grady. His sermons were laced with humor but hard-hitting and straight from the Bible. He’d been a steady rock in the storm of that terrible Thanksgiving Day, and the aftermath of the funeral.
    Doug hadn’t been in church since the funeral. Even if he could have managed to get five kids ready for church on time, it was too hard to think about facing everyone. Too hard to think about sitting alone in a pew after the kids all went off to children’s church.
    From the corner of his eye, he saw Phil and the young man headed their way. Trevor apparently saw, too, for he scraped his chair back and rose to meet Phil. Doug followed suit.
    Phil smiled and made introductions. An ornery glint came to his eye, and he put a hand on Doug’s shoulder. “Now listen, John, Doug here has a whole passel of kids, and Trevor’s got one on the way, but just so you know, I’ve got dibs on every last one of ’em.”
    They all laughed and for the first time in a long time, Doug remembered what it was like to be an ordinary man having an ordinary day. It was a good feeling.
    They left the coffee shop and headed back to the print shop. “Thanks, man…” Doug unexpectedly choked up. “For lunch. But for getting me out, too. It…wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
    Trevor shook his head. “Hey, I remember what it was like. It’s not easy.” His Adam’s apple worked in his throat.
    Doug could almost see the memories swirling in Trevor’s head. He could picture that little boy—a miniature of Trevor, but with Amy’s coloring. He’d forgotten Trevor’s son’s name already, and he felt awful about that. Because it meant people would forget Rachel’s name. And Kaye’s.
    Trevor put a hand briefly on his shoulder. “Just…get through this first year. Be glad you can get this first Christmas without them over with right away. Next year will be a little easier. And the one after that. I know that doesn’t seem possible right now. Right now you maybe don’t want it to ever get easier. But trust me. It’s a terrible cliché, but it’s true. Time helps. It really does. I think that’s the way God intended it.”
    For one moment Doug could almost believe him.
    How many nights would this go on before Harley got used to her mommy being gone? Before he got used to it?
    Chapter Four
    T he whimper turned into a wail, and Doug rolled over in bed. “Harley’s crying,” he mumbled, elbowing Kaye to get up.
    But his jab struck thin air, and it all came rushing back. The terrible thing that had happened to him. To them.
    For twenty-four days now, the sun had risen and set without his wife and daughter. It seemed like an eternity. Christmas was still ten days away, and he wore Trevor’s “just get through it” as if it were a life jacket.
    He tried to push away the awful images…calling home after Thanksgiving dinner that day to check on Kaye and Rachel. Not getting an answer. Leaving the kids— thank God —with Kaye’s mom and running