The same could be said of me, but I was of a mind with Mildred Allen, who'd once said to her husband, "What's yours is mine, and what's mine is mine." Besides, Sam had said not one word about a mutual will change, so I'd determined to leave well enough alone, at least for the time being.

As I stood there, hesitating before calling Hazel Marie, I also had to consider the disruption to her life by our moving in, lock, stock, and barrel. What if she didn't want all of us descending on her? Of course, it was my house and I could live in it if I wanted to. But she had every right to expect to have it to herself, since I'd given her to understand that I'd be living with Sam.

Well, there was nothing for it but to tell her, and so I did. "Hazel Marie," I said, when she answered, "I know this might be a shock to you, and you might not like it. But I'm moving back in with you and Little Lloyd."

There was dead silence, while I cringed at the prospect of hearing dismay and disappointment in her voice. I knew she'd try to make the best of it, and would never in this world come right out and tell me I wasn't welcome.

Then she said, "Oh, Miss Julia, you've not given it enough time. Please, you and Sam just need to talk to each other. You'll work something out. I know you will."

"They Lord, Hazel Marie. I'm not leaving him. I'm bringing him with me. We're both coming home."

"You are? And Lillian, too? Oh, thank goodness. You don't know how bad my cooking is. And I've missed you so much. I hate to admit this, but when J.D.'s not here, I get scared to death at night. I tell you what, Miss Julia," she said, with a sudden lift of excitement. "Why don't I move upstairs into your old room, and you and Sam take mine? My room will give you all the privacy you could ever want, and it has a king-size bed, too."

"Thank you, Hazel Marie," I said, feeling a great relief at her response, "and it'll keep me from having to climb those stairs every day of my life. That will work just fine."

It would, in fact, work better than fine. After sleeping alone these many years, I couldn't get used to the narrowness of a double bed with two people in it. Why, I could hardly turn over without disturbing Sam, or him me. One of those wide king-size beds would be just the ticket. And if that didn't give me a more peaceful sleep, why, I'd just change it for twin beds. Just because you're married doesn't mean you have to be in close proximity night and day, with never a bit of room to spread out in.

By the time we got to my house, Sam in his car, following Lillian and me in mine, Hazel Marie was in the throes of emptying her closets. Her bed was piled high with clothes, and the floor was a minefield of shoes, boots, and pocketbooks.

"I don't know if your closet will hold all of this," she said, as I walked into her room. "I didn't know I had so much."

"Lord, Hazel Marie, you could start a clothing store if you had a mind to." As I surveyed her possessions, I knew the closet in my room would barely accommodate half of what she had. "There's only one thing to do. Let's get some hanging racks and put them in the guest room where Lillian sleeps when she stays over. Wait, I have a better idea. Why don't we line that room with closets, then have a door cut from my bathroom into it? That way you'll have your own dressing room."

"Oh, like a suite. I love it! And, if we have guests, we can put them in Coleman's old room. Now," she said, pushing back her hair and considering the job in front of her, "I've got to start getting this stuff up the stairs."

Sam and Lillian came in about then, both carrying suitcases and bags. Sam put his down and looked around. "You sure there's room for me?"

"Oh, Sam," Hazel Marie said, "there's always room for you. I'm moving everything upstairs, and pretty soon you're going to have a clean, neat room to move into." She sighed. "As soon as I get organized."

Lillian said, "I hate to bring this up, but we might could use James right about now, 'cause somebody gonna be makin' two million trips up and down them stairs."

"Good thinking, Lillian," Sam said. "I'll call him and tell him to come on over. Julia, you mind if I use your phone?"

I stared at him, then took his arm and led him out into the back hall. "Now, listen, Sam. If you're serious about living here, you're going to have to get used to this being your home. You don't have to ask if you can use the phone or anything else in it."

He ran his fingers down the side of my face. "Okay, but I'm beginning to get an inkling of how you felt in my house."

I smiled at him, congratulating myself for having chosen such an agreeable man to spend the last years of my life with.

"I can't wait for Little Lloyd to get home from school," I said. "He's going to be thrilled to have you here all the time, and you're going to relieve Hazel Marie's worries about him being surrounded by nothing but women. I just hope you can put up with people coming and going, and all the noise and something going on all the time. You might miss your peaceful days after a while."

"I'm looking forward to it. Besides," he went on, "I've already thought this through. Since I've started a new project, I'll just keep on using the study at my house every day. Like an office, you know."

"What project are you talking about?" From the way he'd pestered me about getting married, I'd thought I was the only project he had.

"I'm writing a legal history of Abbot County. Didn't I tell you about it? Anyway, all my research and notes are at my house, so I can spend a few hours every day working over there, then just shut the door and come home."

"You better remember to come home," I said, moderating my words with a warm smile. "And I mean every day at the exact time you're supposed to." I stopped and frowned. "Listen, Sam. You think our being here will put a crimp in what's going on with Hazel Marie and Mr. Pickens? I mean, I'm fairly sure-but I'd never come out and ask-that he's spent a night or two here since we got married. I doubt he'll feel so free to come and go with us here."

"I expect you're right. But that could be good. It might make him realize what he's missing."

"Lord, I hope so. I'm about to think that Hazel Marie's wasting her youth on that man. She's going to end up an old maid, if she's not careful."

James came in about that time, and Lillian, taking command since she was back in her domain, gave him his orders. The two of them began carting clothes up the stairs, with Hazel Marie making burdened trips right behind them.

"Let's just put everything in Coleman's room," she said, "until we get my bedroom suite fixed up."

At the same time, I began emptying the closet and drawers in my old room to clear it for Hazel Marie's things. Lillian and James made heavily laden trips both up and down the stairs, and it was beginning to look as if we'd never get the house straight again.

When Little Lloyd came in from school, he dropped his book bag and looked around in wonder. "What in the world's going on?"

"Miss Julia's come home!" Hazel Marie said, with enough pure pleasure in her voice to gratify me. "And Sam's with her, and so is Lillian."

"Really?" Little Lloyd said, his eyes wide. "Everybody's going to live here with us every day and all the time?"

"That's right," Sam said. "You think you can stand us?"

"Oh, boy, I sure can. Where's Miss Lillian?"

"Somewhere on the stairs, I expect," Sam said. "And you and I ought to be giving her a hand."

The boy started toward the back hall, but not before giving me one of his special smiles, which confirmed for me that I'd at least made one right decision.

Chapter 6.

We were at breakfast a couple of days later when Luther Pruitt showed up at the back door. Sam, who had asked him to come, opened the door for him, and in he came, so lanky and tall that his white hair almost scraped the top of the door. He was wearing bib overalls and heavy work boots, and carrying a tool box, a thermos, and a heavy hammer. Behind him came a shorter man, younger and more muscular, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. A loaded tool belt was strapped around his hips. He, too, was carrying a thermos, as well as a portable radio.

Sam introduced us, and I thanked Mr. Pruitt for agreeing to construct a dressing room for Hazel Marie.

"Won't be nothin' to it," he told me. "I built a many a closet in my time." His eyes twinkled, as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "This here's Willie, my brother's boy. He's not good for much but holdin' a plumb line, but he keeps me comp'ny."

Willie grinned, revealing a gap where once an eyetooth had resided. It gave him a roguish air, and I began to have my doubts if these two were the best carpenters available. Sam had vouched for them, though, and after asking about their families, he turned them over to me. But not before he planted a kiss on my cheek in front of them all and told me he'd be at his house most of the morning. Pretending that such an overt show of affection hadn't mortified me to my bones, I joined Hazel Marie in leading the workmen up the back stairs.

"Here it is," I said, opening the door of the guest room, which had been emptied the day before by Sam and James. "Hazel Marie, show them your plan."

She spread out the hand-drawn plan. "This is not to scale," she said, "because I don't know how deep closets should be. But, see, I just want closets all the way around. Except for the doors and windows, of course. And a door knocked through this wall to the bathroom."

Luther held the paper close to his lined face, then squinted his eyes at the walls. "Hit'll work. And if hit don't, well, good thing we brought the sledgehammer."

"Lemme see," Willie said, reaching for the plan. "Yeah, it will, with a few changes. How'bout we put you in some shelves and drawers, too. That'll still leave plenty of room for hanging clothes."

"That'll be wonderful," Hazel Marie said.

"And a full-length mirror."

"Oh, yes."

"You might want to have the closet doors decorated, too. Maybe use paneled doors, and have some dentil work on the crown molding. And you might think about a built-in dressing table with some real good lighting over it."

Hazel Marie was nodding, her smile getting wider. "Yes, yes. You know exactly what I want."

During all this, Luther had twitched out his tape measure and was taking measurements. He glanced at me, gave me a wry smile and said, "See, he ain't good for much, but he keeps me in business."

Yes, indeed, I thought, Willie had just about doubled what I'd expected to spend on housing Hazel Marie's clothes.

We'd not gotten halfway down the stairs when we heard a crashing and splintering racket as the carpenters began to knock out a wall. A cloud of dust rolled out into the hall, along with the strains of a country music station from the portable radio.

"My word, Hazel Marie," I said, turning to see the dust drift down onto the hall floor. "We'd better do something about that. Everything in the house will be covered in dust if they keep that up."

"I'll tell them to keep the hall door closed," she said, running back up the stairs. "That'll help with the music, too. Although I don't mind listening to Tim McGraw."

Lillian came to the bottom of the stairs, looking up. "What they doin' up there?"

"Knocking out the wall to put in a door," I told her. "Let's close off everything downstairs."

Another splintering crash resounded through the house, as Hazel Marie hurried down the stairs. "They're both wearing masks," she said. "We might ought to get some, too."

"I'm not wearing a mask in my own house," I said. "Surely they'll be through with that demolition before long."

"I want to see," Little Lloyd said, passing me on the stairs. "I might want to put in a door one of these days."

"Don't be long," I said. "You'll be late for school."

"Listen," Hazel Marie said, as she stood by the kitchen sink, draining the last of her coffee. "I'll drop Lloyd off at school, then I've got a meeting with Coleman and the sheriff to get the beauty pageant under way." She looked at me. "You want to go with me?"

"No, indeed. I don't have any business at the sheriff's department. You get your plans made, then tell me what you want me to do."

"Well," she said, gathering up her notes and her purse. "I'll tell them they have to come up with the contestants. Then we'll figure out what parts of the department should have a representative. I'll push for no more than ten. Fewer would be better, don't you think?"

"Lord, Hazel Marie, I don't know. I'm in uncharted waters when it comes to beauty pageants. From everything you've told me, you can do whatever you want and nobody'll know the difference."

"Well, that's true, and such a relief. We won't have to worry about following too many official guidelines, like we're the Miss America contest or something."

"Thank goodness," I murmured, having no desire to be involved with anything official or guided along lines I had no wish to follow. "I think I'll walk downtown," I went on, just as another splintering noise echoed from upstairs. "Anything to get away from that racket. Lillian, why don't you think of some place to go until they get through up there?"

"Yessum, I'm gonna go to the grocery store an' stay as long as I can. You want me to fix them mens some lunch?"

"Oh, I hardly think so. I expect they've brought their own. You might offer them a snack later in the afternoon, if you want to."

"I'll do it," Hazel Marie said. "One thing I know about working men. They do better work if they like the people they're working for."

"Lord, Hazel Marie, don't tell me that," I said. "If they're getting paid, they should do the best work they're capable of, regardless of who they like and who they don't."

"It don't hurt nobody to be nice," Lillian said. "So I'm gonna take 'em some of these muffins right now. An' see if they want some of my coffee."

I threw up my hands. "Do what you want, but don't start pampering them. They'll charge me by the hour, whether they're working or sitting around eating all day."

We all turned to look as a heavy-footed clattering came down the back stairs. Willie Pruitt bounded into the kitchen, saw us, gave a missing-tooth grin, then tiptoed toward the door. "Sorry," he said, "didn't know y'all was in here." He waved a crumpled piece of paper with penciled figures on it. "Goin' to the building supply to get lumber."

As he passed me on his way to the door, I couldn't help but look to see if his tool belt had pulled his jeans down below the modesty level. Not that I'm interested in such things, don't you know, but there was a child in the house.

I gazed longer than I should have, and was only brought up short by Hazel Marie's giggles. When Willie went out the door, she took her hand from her mouth and said, "That sure looked good, didn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Hazel Marie," I said. "He's just a fine-looking young man who badly needs some dental work."

"I wasn't looking at his teeth," she said, cutting her eyes at me. "And you weren't, either."

"Law, you two," Lillian chimed in. "Let that man do his work, and don't be eyeballin' all over him. Though," she went on, "them tight pants do make a mighty fine rearview picture."

Little Lloyd pushed through the dining room door with his book bag on his shoulder. "I'm ready, Mama."

"So am I," I said, collecting my pocketbook and preparing for my walk downtown. "And I hope we all have better things on our minds by the end of the day."

I waved as Hazel Marie and Little Lloyd left in the car, and I turned toward Main Street. I couldn't remember the last time I'd walked downtown without a specific purchase in mind. It wasn't like me just to wander off to look in windows or stroll the sidewalk in order to get out of the house.

I couldn't help but smile to myself as I waited to cross a street. What had I told Sam? Why, just that I'd missed the hustle and bustle of a busy household, with people coming and going and giving and taking. Now, all of a sudden, it was too much for me, what with disorder everywhere and two new people hammering and sawing and creating an uproar for who knew how long. And Sam underfoot most of the day and the entire night, with Mr. Pickens yet to be heard from. But he'd show up sooner or later, as he always did, and add his carryings-on to the general mixture.

I was a woman who liked things neat and in their place, a quiet and serene household, and it looked as if that was a thing of the past. And only because I'd married Sam and had to make room for him and Hazel Marie's clothes.

"Well, Lord," I said, under my breath. "I hope he proves worth the sacrifice of my peace and quiet."

A young person in baggy pants and sweatshirt with shaggy hair and unknown gender gave me wide berth as I passed by. So maybe my words hadn't been as far under my breath as I'd thought. I straightened myself and marched on, undeterred by being thought an old woman talking to herself. And why wasn't he in school, anyway?

I got to the corner of Main Street and turned right on the sidewalk. It was a beautiful morning with late-spring flowers blooming in the beds built up along the block. If I hadn't been so self-consciously at loose ends, I could've enjoyed a leisurely hour, like the old men sprawled on green benches watching the early shoppers were doing. As it was, I moved along with the people who were hurrying to offices and shops, readying themselves for the day.

I hardly knew what to do with myself, but I acted as if I had a purpose for being there. The new park, I thought. That's what I need to see. The garden club had taken on a small area of the courthouse lawn to improve with a gazebo and enhance with plantings, and I had contributed to the project. It was well within my province to see what my donation had accomplished. That's my purpose, I decided, and the reason I'm walking Main Street.

With a goal clearly in mind, I was no longer concerned about what anyone might think, which made me mad as soon as I realized it. It was nobody's business what I was doing or where I was doing it, and I didn't have to make up an answer for people who wouldn't ask in the first place. Still, I felt a whole lot better, now that I knew where I was going.

Striding along, enjoying the aroma emanating from Baston's Bakery and anticipating a rest in the gazebo, I could have missed her. And, oh, would that I had.

Chapter 7.