She was alone. It was what Cramer had hoped for, dreamed of. In the four days he had off from Sunday through Wednesday, he saw Jay come and go but never stay the night. Who knows what had gone on the last eight days, but Cramer was full of hope. Mimi and Jay never held hands or kissed, as far as he could see. They were friends, just friends, he told himself, and almost managed to believe it. Cramer loved to listen to them talk-so quick and funny. He wished he could talk to a girl that way. He’d had girlfriends, sure, but no one like Mimi.
She would go for a run in the morning up the Valentine. She was gone forty minutes or so. She is running right by my place, he thought. And he was glad she wouldn’t see the little yellow house up on its knoll above the creek. He had told his mother he would bring a girl home to meet her, but he would never take Mimi there.
One morning there was a heavy dew, and Cramer boldly drew a message on the windshield of the Mini Cooper: