Local Hero

her his way—before too long. “I only have to go a couple of times a week. Some of the writers or artists prefer working in the office. I do better work at home. After I have the story and the sketches, I take them in for editing and inking.”
    “I see. So you don’t do the inking yourself?” she asked, though she’d have been hard-pressed to define what inking was. She’d have to ask Radley.
    “Not anymore. We have some real experts in that, and it gives me more time to work on the story. Believe it or not, we shoot for quality, the kind of vocabulary that challenges a kid and a story that entertains.”
    After adding chicken to the hot oil, Hester took a deep breath. “I really do apologize for anything I said that offended you. I’m sure your work’s very important to you, and I know Radley certainly appreciates it.”
    “Well said, Mrs. Wallace.” He slid the vegetable-laden chopping block toward her.
    “Josh doesn’t believe it.” Radley bounced into the room, delighted with himself. “He wants to come over tomorrow and see. Can he? His mom says okay if it’s okay with you. Okay, Mom?”
    Hester turned from the chicken long enough to give Radley a hug. “Okay, Rad, but it has to be after noon. We have some shopping to do in the morning.”
    “Thanks. Just wait till he sees. He’s gonna go crazy. I’ll tell him.”
    “Dinner’s nearly ready. Hurry up and wash your hands.”
    Radley rolled his eyes at Mitch as he raced from the room again.
    “You’re a big hit,” Hester commented.
    “He’s nuts about you.”
    “The feeling’s mutual.”
    “So I noticed.” Mitch topped off his wine. “You know, I was curious. I always thought bankers kept bankers’ hours. You and Rad don’t get home until five or so.” When she turned her head to look at him, he merely smiled. “Some of my windows face the front. I like to watch people going in and out.”
    It gave her an odd and not entirely comfortable feeling to know he’d watched her walk home. Hester dumped the vegetables in and stirred. “I get off at four, but then I have to pick Rad up from the sitter.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “He hates it when I call her a sitter. Anyway, she’s over by our old place, so it takes awhile. I have to start looking for someone closer.”
    “A lot of kids his age and younger come home on their own.”
    Her eyes did go smoky, he noted. All she needed was a touch of anger. Or passion. “Radley isn’t going to be a latchkey child. He isn’t coming home to an empty house because I have to work.”
    Mitch set her glass by her elbow. “Coming home to empty can be depressing,” he murmured, remembering his own experiences. “He’s lucky to have you.”
    “I’m luckier to have him.” Her tone softened. “If you’d get out the plates, I’ll dish this up.”
    Mitch remembered where she kept her plates, white ones with little violet sprigs along the edges. It was odd to realize they pleased him when he’d become so accustomed to disposable plastic. He took them out, then set them beside her. Most things were best done on impulse, he’d always thought. He went with the feeling now.
    “I guess it would be a lot easier on Rad if he could come back here after school.”
    “Oh, yes. I hate having to drag him across town, though he’s awfully good about it. It’s just so hard to find someone you can trust and who Radley really likes.”
    “How about me?”
    Hester reached to turn off the gas but stopped to stare at him. Vegetables and chicken popped in hot oil. “I’m sorry?”
    “Rad could stay with me in the afternoons.” Again Mitch put a hand over hers, this time to turn off the heat. “He’d only be a couple floors away from his own place.”
    “With you? No, I couldn’t.”
    “Why not?” The more he thought of it, the more Mitch liked the idea. He and Taz could use the company in the afternoons, and as a bonus, he’d be seeing a lot more of the very interesting Mrs. Wallace. “You want references? No criminal record, Hester. Well, there was the case of my motorcycle and the prize roses, but I was only eighteen.”
    “I didn’t mean that—exactly.” When he grinned, she began to fuss with the rice. “I mean I couldn’t impose that way. I’m sure you’re busy.”
    “Come on, you don’t think I do anything all day but doodle. Let’s be honest.”
    “We’ve already agreed it isn’t any of my business,” she began.
    “Exactly. The point is I’m home in