You’re on a one-way route to Paraoidville Sure, the Braxtons were underhanded, tricky, and clever, and I was certain this guy was no bird-watcher. But his binoculars had not been aimed in my direction, so whatever he was doing had nothing to do with me. Unless he was just playing it clever … Paranoidville. Right at the city limits. I went on to the Thursday morning Bible study, with a lively discussion on Corinthians. By that afternoon a light drizzle had started, but I got my umbrella and went for a walk anyway. Would Ms. Standoffish be jogging on a day such as this? Yes, indeed. And no more friendly than before. I deliberately stood in the middle of the pathway, thinking she’d have to acknowledge my existence then. But she jogged around me as if I were one of the bushes dripping puddles onto the trail. People have problems, I reminded myself, and perhaps she was too absorbed in hers to be aware of anything else. But that evening, after I’d picked up Sandy at the gymnastics studio where she had after-school practice three times a week, I was still fretting about the woman.
