“I told Louie to keep an eye on you and take care of you.”
Her eyes showed she was hurt. “You didn’t have to do that, Donald.”
“It isn’t on that account,” I said. “It’s something else.”
“What?”
“Just something. I can tell you more about it tomorrow.”
She didn’t ask any more questions, simply got in the car and started the motor. Halfway to the airport, she said, “Please understand one thing, Donald. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
I placed my hand on her forearm, squeezed it gently.
“The fact that you want to do anything is enough for me. It’s all I want to know,” she went on. “All I ask is that you tell me what I can do to help.”
We didn’t say anything after that until she pulled up at the airport.
The stars seemed like friendly, watching eyes suspended overhead, looking down at the world below. There was a chill in the air, but the dry atmosphere was invigorating. Once more she stood with me looking up at the stars. This time she didn’t say anything.