
Andy had kept these secrets because he believed in secrets. They came naturally to him, like taking written words seriously or drinking alcohol or wanting Meredith Thornton, who now, out of sight under the tablecloth, placed a warm hand on his thigh.
Then looked at him with the most puzzling and beautiful expression he’d ever seen.
And though he’d looked into those dark brown eyes for what seemed like weeks at a time, he saw something new in them now, something delighted and determined and full of joy.
“Meredith,” said Clay. “What are you thinking about over there?”
“I hate it when Andy asks me that,” she said with a laugh. Max and Monika Becker laughed, too. Meredith’s face reddened and her hand eased off Andy’s leg.
“You’re a lovely young lady,” said Clay. “You’re what, a senior now?”
“Thank you. Yes.”
She looked at Andy again. Bloomed into a smile that made his heart stumble.
Then pumpkin pies.
Max Becker talked more about the international Communist conspiracy, and this new organization called the John Birch Society. He’d heard about it from Roger Stoltz, who was starting up a local chapter. It was a group of conservative men and women who wanted to expose the Communists for what they were-subversives, atheists, and murderers intent on ruining the United States of America by undermining the freedoms that made it great.
