Little Lloyd answered, saying, "We sure did, and I've worked up a big appetite. Thanks, Miss Lillian." He took the hot biscuits and eggs that Lillian had brought to the table. "That sure looks good."

"Here, Sam," I said, taking the bread basket from Little Lloyd and holding it out. "Have one while they're hot. And here's the butter. You want some jam with it?"

"Not quite yet," he said. "Thanks, though."

"I'll just put some on your bread plate," I said, spooning out grape jam for him. "Then you'll have it when you're ready. Here, you need some bacon." I put three strips on his plate.

All through my solicitous ministrations, Sam watched me with a bemused expression, while Hazel Marie and Little Lloyd exchanged glances. I didn't let any of it bother me. I was taking care of the man I was trying my best to keep.

Then Latisha, who'd been watching intently, piped up. "Great-Granny, that lady gonna be spoon-feedin' that ole man, next thing you know."

Everybody broke up, while I managed a sheepish smile to join in. So maybe, I thought, being too attentive wasn't the way to win friends and influence Sam, especially since he was laughing harder than any of them.

"Just trying to be helpful," I murmured in defense.

"And you are, Julia," Sam said, thrilling me with a soft touch on my hand. "I appreciate it, too."

"Well," Hazel Marie said, rising from the table, "we better get started if we're going to be on time. Etta Mae and the contestants will be there before long. Latisha, are you ready?"

"Yessum, I been waitin' all mornin' to get to that rehearsal."

"You jus' wait one minute," Lillian said, coming at her with a wet paper towel. "I need to wash yo' face an' hands 'fore you go anywhere. An' look here, you got jam on that clean T-shirt. What I gonna do with you, little girl?"

"It don't matter," Latisha said, as Lillian wiped her face. "I'm gonna be worse than this by the time I get back, 'cause when I sing I work up a big sweat."

Lillian took her hand and wiped each little greasy finger. "Law, chile," she said, "you too much. Now, you behave yo'self, an' do what Miss Hazel Marie tell you. Don't be runnin' 'round, an' gettin' in people's way."

"I won't. I'm jus' gonna do my singin'. Then I'm gonna set down an' watch them beauty queens so I'll know what to do when it come my time to do it."

Lillian rolled her eyes. "Miss Hazel Marie, if she give you trouble, you jus' call me an' I come get her."

"She'll be fine, Lillian. We'll be through around lunchtime, so I'll have her home by then. We'll go back for another rehearsal after supper, if she's not too tired."

Latisha said, "You don't need to worry about that. I ain't never been tired in my whole life."

"An' that's the gospel truth," Lillian said, looking about whipped herself.

"Lloyd," Hazel Marie asked, "are you going?"

"Yessum," he said. "Melanie's expecting me."

I glanced around, but nobody seemed concerned about that announcement. My word, but he was too young to be at the beck and call of Melanie Easley.

Little Lloyd said, "I'll look after Latisha when she finishes rehearsing."

"I don't need no . . ." Latisha began. But Lillian said, "Hush, chile, you do so need some lookin' after, an' you better be thankin' Little Lloyd like I do."

Hazel Marie turned to me. "You want to go, Miss Julia?"

"Oh, I don't think so. Not unless you need me for anything. I'll go with you tonight, maybe, and see how Ashley does."

"Well, I've been wondering if you'd meet with the girls, and go over a few tips on poise and so forth. They're going to be so nervous when they're asked about their ambitions and plans for the future-you know, when they're up there in front of the audience and all. Could you do that this afternoon?"

I glanced at Sam, but he didn't say anything. "I'll be glad to, Hazel Marie. Maybe between one and three. Unless," I went on hopefully, "Sam has something he wants to do."

"Not at all, Julia," he said, as my spirits dropped. "I need to do some work on my notes before I get too far behind. I'll be working over at the house most of the day. But we'll go to the rehearsal tonight, if you want."

That's what I was afraid of, since Miss Wiggins would be there. I hid my feelings as well as I could, smiling at him in what I hoped was an agreeable fashion. I was bound and determined to show him I could be a good wife, even if it killed me. And from the way I felt inside at the thought of his imminent proximity to that flirtatious little twit, it was going to.

Chapter 38.

When they'd all left, Hazel Marie with her entourage of children and Sam with his notes on the county's legal history, I continued to sit at the table with the dirty dishes.

"Lillian," I said, "come sit with me for a while. I'm not ready to face the day yet."

She poured a cup of coffee for herself and started toward the table. I began to feel better at the thought of pouring out my troubles to her. She stopped as truck doors slammed outside, and the rattle of tools announced the arrival of the Pruitts.

"Will they never be finished?" I said, sighing heavily and resigning myself to their arrival.

"Don't look like it," Lillian said, opening the door for them. "Mornin', Mr. Pruitt. Y'all come on in."

Mr. Pruitt and Willie entered with toolboxes and paint cans in both hands. They didn't stop, just nodded and greeted us as they passed through the kitchen on their way toward the back stairs.

As they tromped up the stairs, I beckoned to Lillian. "Come sit down. I need to talk to somebody, and you're the best one I know."

She pulled out a chair and began spooning sugar into her cup. "If you worriet 'bout James comin' 'round, they's not a thing I can do. I tole him I didn't want to see his sorry self over here again, but he don't listen."

"Oh," I said, waving my hand. "I'm not worried about James. Other than him bothering you. Sam'll take care of it. No, Lillian, I want to talk to you about . . ." I looked up to see Willie suddenly standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting, it seemed, for a break in our conversation. "You need something, Willie?"

" 'Scuse me," he said, with a shy smile. "Don't mean to interrupt, but I wonder, could I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course. But Hazel Marie's not here, and I'm not sure I can help you if it's something about her closets."

"No'm, it's not about closets. We're gonna start paintin' 'em today, and prob'bly be finishing up by the end of the week."

"Well, that is good news. Of course it's been a pleasure to have you and your uncle around, but it'll be good to get everything in its place again. What did you want to ask?"

"Well," he began, shuffling his feet and gazing off above my head. "Well, I don't want to butt in on anybody else's territory, but I was wonderin' if you know if Etta Mae is, uh, well, you know, seeing anybody?"

My spirits suddenly soared. "Why, no, Willie. I don't believe she is. Not that I know of, anyway. But even if she is, that would be no reason for you to hold back. Every woman likes all the attention she can get, and Miss Wiggins is certainly no exception."

He grinned widely, revealing that unfortunate gap where a tooth had once been. Although I must say, even though I worried about his oral hygiene, it did give him a rakish appearance.

"Well, okay then," he said, turning to leave. "Guess I better get back to work."

"Willie," I said quickly, not wanting to lose an opportunity to foist Miss Wiggins onto somebody-anybody-who would take her off the market. Sam was too much of a gentleman to intrude on an affair of the heart, if such should develop between Willie and Miss Wiggins. "Willie," I went on, "you might want to listen out this afternoon. She'll be here then and at the auditorium tonight. You might want to be there, too."

"I don't know," he said, as he prepared to climb the stairs. "I finished that runway, and that's all she wanted me to do. I don't know what she'd think, if I showed up again. She might get mad at me for hangin' around."

"Oh, I doubt that. But let me think a minute." I pondered the problem, absently stirring my cold coffee. "I know. You can say that I asked you to make sure the scrim works for Ashley. That way, you'll be up on the stage where Miss Wiggins is, and you can volunteer to work with the curtains and backdrops and so on. Whatever she needs, you'll be Johnny-on-the-spot."

His eyes lit up at the thought. "It's all right to say you want me there?"

"Yes, and you may be sure that I do."

"Then I'll be there." He started up the stairs again, then stepped back down. "Uh, Miz Murdoch, I don't know what a scrim is."

"Well, see, I hardly do, either. So that's something you can ask Miss Wiggins. Just tell her that I need to know if it's going to work right."

"Okay, thanks." He flashed a broad smile and bounded up the stairs, taking two or three at a time.

"Now, Lillian," I said, anxious to pick up where I'd left off. "Where was I? Oh, yes . . ."

The front doorbell rang, interrupting my train of thought again. "Who can that be this time of day?" I rose from the table, telling Lillian that I would see to it.

Lord, when I saw that it was LuAnne, I wondered how much more I could take. I unlatched and opened the door, but before I could barely get out a "welcome," she brushed past me and entered the living room.

"Julia," she announced, "we've been friends too long to let a few words come between us. I say, let's let bygones be bygones, and start over."

"I agree, LuAnne. I don't like having you unhappy with me, so have a seat and let's talk this out."

She plopped down on the sofa. "I didn't come to talk anything out. I just want you to know, even though you cut me to the quick at the book club, that I forgive you, and to tell you that I'm going to try one more time to have a reception for you and Sam. No, wait," she said, holding up her hand as I opened my mouth. "You may think you're above doing the accepted thing, but I am not. Everybody knows how close we've always been, and they'll wonder why I'm not doing anything to honor you. So I'm going to do something, whether you like it or not."

And she sat back on the sofa with her arms crossed over her ample bosom, as if to say, So there.

I held my temper, although I was seething inside. "First off, LuAnne, it was you who offended me at the book club, not the other way around."

"I did not!" She almost sprang off the sofa. "All I did was speak the truth, and if that bothered you, then all I can say is, if the shoe fits . . . Besides, it wasn't me who got up and stomped out. And another thing, I was talking in general, but you-you made it personal."

"I made it personal? Why, LuAnne, everybody knew who you were talking about. You made that crystal clear. And I'll say this, you shouldn't start something unless you can take what you get in return. The trouble with you, LuAnne, is you think you can say anything you want to, and everybody'll just take it. Well, you need to know that I am a changed woman. I don't intend to sit back any longer and let people do and say whatever they please."

"Hah! When have you ever?"

"Plenty of times! Everybody thinks they can just run over me and I'll lie down and take it. No more, LuAnne. I'm not doing it anymore. And you can take that to the bank."

"Uh-huh, trust you to bring up money like you always do."

"I do not! And I'll have you know that I earned every cent I have. You try living with a man like Wesley Lloyd Springer, and see how you feel."

We glared at each other, each thinking up some other cutting thing to say. Then a smile pulled at her mouth until she couldn't help but start giggling. "No, thanks. Living with Leonard Conover's bad enough. I wouldn't take on another one for all the gold in Fort Knox."

Then we both began to laugh, sputtering and wiping eyes and expending all our ill temper. "Oh, LuAnne," I finally gasped. "I've missed you. Don't let's be mad anymore."

"I've missed you, too, Julia, and I'm glad we've got all that out of our systems. It was about to do me in." She pulled a Kleenex from her pocketbook and wiped her eyes. "Still and all, I'm going to have a do for you and Sam, I don't care what you say. It doesn't have to be a wedding reception, if you're so hell-bent against that. Although I still don't know what you have against having one. But call it what you will-a drop-in, a soiree, a dinner dance, whatever-but I'm going to do it. And I've already reserved the card room at the country club for next Saturday night. Now, don't say you can't make it. I know Sam's home, so you can't use that as an excuse."

"But, LuAnne, next Saturday's impossible. That's the night of the beauty pageant. Didn't you know that?"

"Oh, Lord," she said, doubling over on herself. "I forgot. And I bought tickets for it, too. Oh, for goodness sakes, Julia. What am I going to do? I just wrote out and stamped fifty invitations-that's a hundred people, and they'll all come. I was going to mail them on my way home."

"I am so sorry," I said in a doleful manner, although inside I was relieved not to have to pretend to celebrate a wedding I'd never had. The fact of the matter was, I was in no mood for a celebration of any kind. I had my hands full with trying to woo and win Sam before anybody realized that I'd lost him.

She sat still, her mouth screwing up and her forehead wrinkling in thought. "I know what I can do," she finally said. "I'll have something after the pageant. A supper dance, that's what it'll be. I'll just open the envelopes and change the time. It'll cost a fortune to buy all those stamps again. Now that I think about it, since everybody's going to the pageant anyway, they can just swing by the club afterward for a light supper and dancing. That thing's not going to last long, is it? I mean, with just six contestants?"

"I wouldn't think so. LuAnne, I've just had a wonderful thought. Why don't we make it a gala honoring Miss Abbot County Sheriff's Department and invite everybody associated with the contest?"

"Lord, Julia, I can't afford that! No telling how many would show up. And how am I going to address envelopes to people I don't know? I mean, nobody's asked me to help with the pageant, so how am I going to know who's associated with it?"

"Forget addressing envelopes!" I said, getting to my feet, so taken with the idea that I hoped would take the spotlight off Sam and me. "Well, except to the people you'd invite anyway. And for the rest, we can invite them in person. Just think of it! Your supper dance idea will make the pageant a huge success. It'll not only honor the winner of the title, but give the losing contestants a wonderful way to end the evening. And, LuAnne, think what it'll mean to all those brave sheriff's deputies to be able to have a night out with their wives and friends. And we'll have the sheriff and the mayor and the commissioners, and whoever else." And, I thought, Etta Mae Wiggins and possibly her trailer park friends, as well as Mr. Pruitt and Willie, but I didn't mention any of them. "Why, everybody who is anybody'll be indebted to you. And Sam and I will be, too. But you know, LuAnne, we're private people and really don't like being the center of attention."

She had her head thrown back against the sofa, looking slack-jawed and overwhelmed with the all-out celebration I'd just described. "Julia," she gasped, "we live on Leonard's retirement, and we couldn't . . ."

"Oh, I didn't mean that you should do it all. My goodness, no. With that many invited, nobody could do it alone. I'll help, and so will Hazel Marie. But you should be the hostess and make all the arrangements and take all the credit. Because, after all, it was your idea."

"It was?"

"Of course. You just told me about it. And I'll tell you what, LuAnne. In all that crowd of people, we can gather a few of our close friends over in a corner and drink a glass of champagne to our future happiness. You'll be honoring Sam and me, as well as all those who've worked so hard, at the same time. It will be the perfect ending for the pageant, and I wouldn't be surprised if Sheriff Frady doesn't give you an award of some kind, and maybe put your name on a brass plaque to go on his office wall."

She gazed at me for the longest, her face becoming more and more skeptical. I might've overplayed it, but all I'd tried to do was get out of being the honoree at a wedding reception. And given her determination to celebrate something, I'd come up with the only substitute I could think of.

"Julia," she said, glowering at me, "now I know you're just stringing me along for some sneaky purpose of your own."

I felt my heart sink. "Why, LuAnne-why would you say such a thing?"

"Because you don't drink, so don't tell me you'd have a glass of champagne."

"Oh," I said, almost collapsing in relief, as I gave a little laugh. "Well, a lot of things change when a woman gets married."

"Tell me about it!" She hopped up and prepared to take her leave. "All right, I'll do it. And the first thing I'll do is switch to the ballroom, since we'll have a bigger guest list. So you might as well go ahead and give me a check. I'll keep track of all the expenses and we'll work it out when the party's over. But I'll tell you this, we're not going to have a big spread. That's too expensive. It'll just be hors d'oeuvres, dips, and so on." She stopped, bit her lip, then cut her eyes at me. "Unless, of course, you're willing to go a little fancier."

"Whatever you think, LuAnne. We want it to be the highlight of the pageant." I went to my desk and wrote out a generous check, rationalizing to myself that it would be money well spent. Handing it to her, I said, "Be sure to get a good band, so people will dance and enjoy themselves."

She looked at the check, then up at me. "You know, the more I think about it, the better I like it." She started toward the door. "But I'm telling you right now that I'm letting our friends know that it's a reception honoring your wedding. I'm not going to have people thinking that I don't know what's right. Now, I've got to get going. There're a million things to do. You know how it is when you're the hostess. Oh, and Julia," she said, her face lit up as she turned back to me. "I just thought of something. I won't have to pay back any social obligations for years to come. Everybody in town's going to owe me."

Chapter 39.