Vi smiled and continued digging. After she’d dug a circle around the peony bush she applied the shovel as a lever.

Marty stood to one side. He knew this woman pretty well by now. If she wanted his help, she’d ask. If he tried to help without her asking, she’d get mad. The last thing he wanted was to make her angry. He’d have to stay out of the way but be ready to help if he got a chance.

He might as well have been at a boxing match. He mirrored her movements, made the same motions she did. And silently, he cheered her on. Finally she wrestled the lump of wet muck and large green leaves out of the ground.

With a laugh she belly-flopped onto the grass near the garden. “Thank you, I could see you out of the corner of my eye. You refused to give in and do this job for me.”

“Marty shrugged. “You said that’s what you wanted. I just took you at your word.”

“You’re different, not like Fred at all.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I appreciate you. Obviously he did too.” He levered himself down on the grass at her side.”

She didn’t look up. “Think so?”

“Of course he did.”

She trailed her fingers through the grass. “Tell me, if you really loved someone, how would you treat them.”

“I loved Pamela, but she let me ruin her life. Thanks to me, she died.” He turned his head away. He didn’t want to look at Vi; he couldn’t stand to see her walk away. His chin trembled; he didn’t want her to see that weakness either.

He faced the neighbor’s fence for many minutes. He couldn’t describe the disgust he felt for the life he’d lived.

Vi touched his shoulder and he jumped. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It hurts doesn’t it.”

He nodded, got up, took her hand and pulled her up. They walked to the garden bench nearby. “It was my fault, all of it. She always did what I told her, never questioned anything. She was so good, never knew what evil was.”

She patted his back. “The past is the past. We have to go on from here. Try to do better; it’s all we can do about the past.”

“Then all I can do is swear that any woman I get interested in has to have a backbone of steel and the spirit of an Amazon.” He tried to swallow down the bitterness and growled, “No other kind of woman is safe around me. Probably I’ll never love another woman.”

“You don’t trust yourself. You’re afraid of what might happen if you take on the responsibility of loving another person,” Vi said.

Marty looked at her as if she had a halo. “Never thought of it like that. Love is a responsibility, isn’t it?”

“A big responsibility for both people,” she said.

“I still don’t remember some parts of my life, but being responsible.” He paused for a long moment. “I know I didn’t do well.”

She looked into his eyes as if searching for truth. “So you want the other person to be strong enough not to be hurt if you fail to love them well.”

With a frown Marty said, “I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

“Don’t you understand that part of love is being so vulnerable that the other person can’t keep from hurting you?”

Marty only frowned. She could be speaking Sanskrit for all the sense she made.

“If you really love someone, you’ll expose the most delicate parts of yourself and then the other person can’t help hurting you.”

He chuckled and thought about what she’d said. “Naw. Don’t think so.”

“I’ve been thinking of the long years of my marriage to Fred. I did love him, I really did. He was sweet and kind, but his constant protecting got in the way of what I wanted. It hurt me; especially when he refused to take what I thought seriously. He thought he was protecting me, but he hurt me so bad, I still get angry at him.”

Marty had to smile, “I’ll bet it hurt. I’d of gone stir crazy and run away or something worse.”

Vi laughed. “I’ll bet you would have.”

They sat for a long while, neither speaking. Marty, afraid to break the sweet spell, hardly dared to breathe.

Finally Vi said, “When you leave, let me know where you are and how you get along.”

“You mean it?” Marty asked.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Would she want to know I exist if she knew who I was? “You haven’t asked me about my past.” Now was a good time to tell her everything. “I’d better tell you. Then if you want to know where I go, well . . .”

But she cut in, “You don’t have to tell me. I’ve already figured there’s some,” she paused, “uh dark things about your life.”

“And you don’t mind talking with me?”

“I don’t think you’re all bad. Besides, I think you want to change. Let me tell you what Jesus—”

“If there’s a way not to be the person I was, I mean to find it.” Marty swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Wanted to change for years but I was trapped.”

“Trapped?”

“Yeah, I got this temper and that got me in a lot of trouble when I was a kid and then, the choices I made.” He couldn’t go on for a minute, had to get control of his voice, before he could talk. “I did the wrong things, made wrong choices and before I realized what I’d gotten into, it was too late. They owned me. A slave before the Civil War had more freedom.”

“Organized crime.” Vi wasn’t asking a question.

“You can call it that, but it’s not. Not very anyway, just enough to kill anyone who displease the ones who got more clout than they do.”

“That’s why you were beaten almost to death.”

Marty gave a bitter laugh. “Oh no. It wasn’t my bosses; it was my faithful helper who did it. I stopped being alert for maybe ten seconds.”

She frowned. “You’re not safe from him now are you?

“No, and that’s why I’ve got to leave pretty soon. If I don’t, he could find me. I know him; he wouldn’t stop with beating or killing me. You and Cliff’s family would be next. I won’t take that chance.”

“We need to figure out how to keep you safe.”

“We need to have me lie low for a bit longer and then I’ll disappear. That will keep me safe. If I can get out of here soon enough, you and your family will be safe too.”