As Abigail waited for the youngster to make his decision, she inhaled the scent of coffee, molasses and pickles wafting from barrels on the floor. To celebrate her first payday at the Cummingses, she’d buy her nephews a rare treat. The proprietor, Seymour Manning, wearing an apron over his clothing and a patient expression on his face, gave her a smile. Once a gambler, Elizabeth’s father had turned his life around and like Pastor Ted had encouraged and counseled Joe. His selection made, the boy plopped a penny down while Mr. Manning sacked his purchase. Bag clutched in a dirty dimpled hand, the boy whirled to the door. “Thanks!” he shouted. Mr. Manning, an imposing man with a handsome head of hair and wide girth, chuckled. “Sorry for the wait. If all my customers were as indecisive, I’d be pulling out my hair.” Smiling, Abigail laid out her purchases. “The delay gave me time to think about buying candy for my nephews. Please add four red lollipops to my order.” “Well, in that case, I may hire the lad,”
