She didn’t want to go in, go drink, and slip into all the old patterns. Like most American downtowns, Lott had seen better days. The historical society did their best to spruce it up. They had succeeded in bringing a few businesses in, a new restaurant, a coffee shop which seemed to be doing well, and a sports bar. But there were still empty storefronts, a few of them boarded up with plywood where kids had thrown rocks through the glass. She couldn’t ask Val what he intended to do about his dying mother. That seemed crass and tacky. She couldn’t stay here, but she couldn’t leave him, not alone, not after waiting for so long. Santa Fe was big and sprawling and anonymous. Even now Kate dropped her head in hopes of avoiding being seen. “Papa” Guerrerez, her brother’s old dealer, sauntered by with a girl who looked like she wasn’t legal. If Papa noticed her, he didn’t give any indication. She looked up and watched them stroll into Woodstone’s.
