After Nine-Year-Old Sadie Called Munich, Walter Hensley Drove Through the Snow
Trevor leaned back against the wooden railing, his coffee mug held in both hands.
“I was thinking about early March,” Trevor said, gazing out at the snow-covered flower beds.
“Once you finish the Munich engineering contract and hand off those structural drawings, we ought to book two whole weeks down in Sanibel, Florida.”
“Florida?” I repeated.
“We could rent that private place right on the beach by the lighthouse,” he said, turning his head to give me a warm, steady look.
“Just the three of us.
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