‘What will it be after the procedure? Good as new?’

‘It takes about six months to regain full vision.’

He found the whole prospect gruesome. He declined to ask how she would lie facedown on the post-op trek from Winston, much less at home.

Around seven, he laid out her new robe and ran her bath, then made a simple dinner, which he carried upstairs.

‘The good news,’ she said, ‘is that Irene isn’t going back to Florida for the winter. Except for Christmas, she’s staying here and painting.’

It was rare for any of the Florida crowd to spend a winter in these parts. To them, snow was good only for Christmas card scenes, and ice storms were good for nothing.

‘She invited me to paint with her in her studio—I’ll do several pieces for the auction.’ A small light in his wife’s eyes. ‘We can have her over for dinner and a movie!’

‘What does she hear from Kim?’

‘Irene will take several of her grandchildren out to Los Angeles in March. Kim is thrilled about having all these nieces and nephews. Okay, your turn,’ she said, ready for his gazette.

Esther had suffered a stroke which affected her left side—droopy eye, some temporary speech impairment, arm movement disabled. This hateful circumstance was accompanied by the early stages of pneumonia.

Ray had been located at Wesley’s big-box home improvement store and summoned to the hospital, where he said repeatedly to the nurses, I tried to tell her; we all tried to tell her. Wilson wrote a prescription for Ray. The daughters showed up, saying in chorus, We tried to tell her; Mama never listens.

To add to the shopping cart of health issues, Wilson suspected artery blockage, possibly valve stenosis, but these tests could not be done until tomorrow. There was a distinct possibility that Esther would be ferried to Charlotte via the copter service.

On his way off the floor, the charge nurse had caught up with him. ‘She said tell you or somebody to be sure that big bag of Snickers behind th’ TV in her den makes it to the swearin’-in. She wants th’ kids to have that candy.’ The nurse gave him a meaningful look. ‘Super important, she said.’

‘The swearing-in is more than a week away. Will she still be in the hospital?’

‘Probably not, but she said if I don’t pass that message along, I’ll get plenty of time to think about where I went wrong.’ The nurse thought this was hilarious, but also true.

Esther’s famous candy giveaway. Even on her deathbed—and he hoped this wasn’t it—Esther would be in campaign mode.

As for life closer to home, he reported that Dooley was getting in late tonight, and would visit next door before coming over around eleven. He would stay up to greet him. And here was some good news: Dooley was requesting only one family dinner, not two, hoping that tomorrow night might be good for Cynthia.

‘He’ll be spending time with Kenny and Sammy, anyway, so maybe tomorrow is a good night for Buck and Pauline and Jessie and Pooh—if that works. We’ll make it easy.’

He was accustomed to his wife being up for anything; it was unsettling to see her drained of the energy he unfairly relied upon.

‘You’ll be able to see better after the surgery,’ he said. ‘But there is a downside. You’ve always told me I’m pretty good-looking, and now you’ll know the bitter truth.’

She laughed a little.

He tucked her in with a quote from Victor Hugo.

‘“Sleep in peace, God is awake.”’

•   •   •

THE FIRE HAD DIED DOWN and he didn’t poke it up. The room was warm against the October night.

‘Can you use a snack?’ he asked Dooley.

‘What is it?’

‘Cynthia’s egg salad, made this morning, with extra mayo on whole wheat from Winnie.’

‘I could use a snack.’

He opened the container of egg salad, gave Dooley a root beer. ‘Cynthia turned your bed down.’

‘Five-star,’ said Dooley. ‘Thanks a lot. Has Sammy been nicer to you?’

‘I haven’t seen him since Saturday.’

‘He was different tonight.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He didn’t try to pick a fight. Harley and Kenny say he’s doing better.’

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘So something you did must have worked.’

‘Time will tell,’ he said, pouring himself a glass of water. ‘I missed my trip to see the truck because of the funeral.’

‘I’ll run you down Saturday, it’s only two hours. I’ll kick the tires for you.’

He laughed. ‘You’re a good guy.’

‘You, too, Dad. Cheers.’

Chapter Twenty-two

In all his days in ministry, he couldn’t remember fixing anybody up. Not directly, anyway. He had prayed for Puny to find a husband and she did, but he hadn’t exactly brokered the deal.

‘I suppose we could have them over for dinner and a movie,’ said his wife.

He measured out a spoonful of honey for his oatmeal. ‘What if it doesn’t work?’

‘They could just be friends.’

‘What would I say to Omer?’

‘That you’d like him to meet someone who loves Scrabble.’

‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘But dinner and a movie? That’s four hours. Shouldn’t it be just coffee? I read that somewhere. Or maybe lunch at the Feel Good?’

‘Lunch. I’ll join you.’

His wife didn’t often join him for lunch. ‘Yay-y!’ he said.

•   •   •

BEFORE STRAPPING ON HIS BACKPACK, he made a call.

‘Add this to my tab, please. As soon as you can, take an extension ladder to the Woolen Shop and remove the plastic bag that’s caught on the awning thingamajig.’

‘That’d be y’r retractable lateral arm,’ said Harley.

•   •   •

IT WAS TEACHER’S WORKDAY at Mitford School; Miss Mooney arrived at Happy Endings at ten sharp.

‘I need a great audio book,’ she said. ‘I have only fifteen minutes of wild liberty.’

‘Out of Africa!’ he said, trying to give her a break on an O title.

‘Already have it; I’ll take a quick look. If its okay, I’ll be here at three o’clock sharp. Coot’s reading lesson.’

‘How are the lessons coming?’

‘He’s very eager and hardworking. I dislike asking, but you could give a hand.’

‘In what way?’

‘He needs someone to read to him on occasion, it would be a great help.’

‘I can do that,’ he said.

‘And it would be wonderful if you could ask for something in return. Something he could teach you.’

Coot’s ancestor, Hezekiah Hendrick, had founded the town. He had always wanted more understanding of that family lore.

Abe jangled in around ten-thirty.

‘I’m here to buy a book.’

‘It’s about time, buddy.’

‘But only with a free coffee.’

‘Always available.’

‘I’ve just realized my cell phone is bigger than my bookcase.’

‘Oy!’ he said.

Abe had a laugh, poured himself a cup. ‘So what’s left in the O Sale? October is toast, there should be a big markdown.’

‘We started with a big markdown.’

‘Right. But the markdown of the markdown adds a little pizzazz in the home stretch.’

He had discussed the notion with Hope, who hadn’t been averse to another five percent off a few titles at the end. ‘Let’s see what we can do.’ He scrolled their O inventory on the computer.

‘Othello. The play.’

‘No Shakespeare,’ said Abe.

‘Of Mice and Men.’

‘I have mice already.’

‘Old Man and the Sea.’

‘Not into fishing.’

‘That’s my best offer on markdowns.’

‘Great,’ said Abe. ‘I’m off the hook ’til November. I’ve been meaning to ask, why do you think gentiles were invented?’

‘Tell me.’

‘Somebody has to pay retail.’

Winnie arrived with a bakery box.

‘What are y’all laughin’ about?’

‘Not much,’ said Abe.

‘Chocolate donuts!’ Winnie lifted the box lid. ‘Two days old, but still good.’

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I pass.’

‘I’m in,’ said Abe. ‘Why us?’

‘Overstock,’ said Winnie. ‘It’s turned too cold for tourists, we have to get rid of ’em somehow. Where’s Coot? He likes chocolate.’