“You’d had all you could take.’’ Mama patted Delilah’s hand, perhaps thinking of all those nights she waited to hear the key turn in the lock with Husband Number 2.

“That’s right, Rosalee. And when Jim Albert started flirting, I was ripe. I still didn’t know who Bob was playing around with, but I was certain he was playing around. Again. A couple of days later, I went back to the drive-thru, and there was Jim. I didn’t have the first feeling for him. A man with a diamond pinky ring, can you imagine?’’

She was married to a man with whitened teeth and clear-polished fingernails. Myself, I didn’t see how a pinky ring was that much worse.

“He told me he had some special cartons of soda at discount prices in the back. I knew full well that was malarkey. But I didn’t care. He left this girl with funny braids in charge.’’

I flashed on Linda-Ann, the slacker clerk.

“We went to his office and he locked the door.’’ Delilah traced the rim of her butterfly cup. “We did it right there, on a stained couch of brown-and-white plaid that smelled like stale cigarettes. I remember looking at a bare lightbulb on the ceiling. A Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders poster hung on the wall. The poster was crooked, and the beige paint was peeling.’’

Tears dropped as dark spots on the front of Delilah’s pink housedress.

“I didn’t feel a thing.’’ She hid her face in the lacy handkerchief.

Mama stroked her hair. “Let it all out, honey.’’

Something had been niggling at me throughout Delilah’s confession. I thought and thought. Her sobs slowed to whimpers. Finally, it came to me.

“Ms. Dixon, did you say you asked your husband to forgive you?’’

She lifted her face from the handkerchief. “Oh, yes. I got down on my knees and begged. But Bob was furious. Angrier than I’ve ever seen him. I was actually frightened he’d hurt me. And I never felt that way about him or any other man.’’

“He must have gotten over it,’’ Mama said. “He seemed sweeter than strawberry pie at the beauty parlor.’’

Delilah blew her nose. Mama’s hankie wasn’t up to the challenge. I tore two squares from the paper towel roll and handed them over.

She spoke from behind a wad of towel. Her voice was bitter. “Oh, Bob’s a very good actor. He’s had a lot of practice, pretending he isn’t cheating.’’

“So he was angry you’d been with Jim Albert?’’ I asked.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “When he stormed out of the house that night, he was in an absolute rage.’’

“Delilah, honey?’’ Mama and I exchanged a look. “Did Pastor Bob own a gun?’’

Maddie taped crepe paper to the wall at the VFW lodge. The garland was as straight as the center line on a flat stretch of Florida highway. Marty followed behind—unsticking the tape, draping the paper, and tying it into festive bows.

“Hmph.’’ Maddie looked over her shoulder. “You’ve got it looking like a fancy birthday cake, Marty.’’

“That’s kind of the point, Maddie.’’ I was supervising. “It is a party, after all. It’s supposed to look pretty.’’

“I’d hardly call a pot-luck prayer breakfast a party. What are they going to do? Put top hats on the biscuits?’’

Marty made a final paper loop-de-loop. “For once in your life, could you not criticize everything, Maddie?’’ She tied a purple bow onto a gold streamer, keeping her eyes on her hands. “This is a big deal for Mama, even if it’s not exactly your style.’’

I was afraid Maddie was going to toss the heavy tape dispenser at Marty’s head. Ever since that promotion, our little sister had become more emboldened about speaking her mind.

“Hmph,’’ Maddie huffed, as if she had plenty to say. But when she looked at Marty, tongue peeking sweetly from the corner of her mouth in concentration, Maddie put down her would-be weapon.

“Explain to me again why we’re here while Mama’s off cavorting with her obnoxious boyfriend?’’ Maddie said.

“Fiancé,’’ I corrected. “They’re going to be married, whether you like it or not.’’

With all the excitement over going to jail and getting engaged, Mama had almost forgotten about her church’s annual Save a Sinner breakfast. That’s not the official name. It’s shorthand for my sisters and me. The members of Abundant Hope invite as many non-members as they can, plying them with a lavish, Southern-style breakfast. All the church ladies and a few of the men bring their specialties. The hope is guests will be so caught up with food and fellowship, they’ll commit themselves to the Lord between the homemade biscuits and the egg-and-sausage casseroles.

Mama remembered at the last minute she was supposed to be in charge of decorations. Meanwhile, Sal had made dinner reservations at the new country club. He wanted her to meet his golfing buddies and their wives. Since it was another opportunity to show off her engagement ring, Mama hadn’t hesitated. Which is how my sisters and I wound up spending our Friday night at the Veterans of Foreign Wars lodge, picking up the decorating ball that Mama had dropped.

I stood back to admire our handiwork.

A Welcome banner hung across the stage. Jesus held out a beckoning hand on a color poster, with John 3:16 inscribed in big type across the bottom. The churchgoers know the Bible verse by heart. But, for the less faithful, there was a cheat sheet beside the poster:

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

White plastic cloths covered all the tables; a vase of silk irises and marigolds decorated each one. Purple and gold are the school colors for Himmarshee High. Supplies in those shades are always left over, so they get used for just about every party in town, except funerals.

“Well, sisters, it looks as good as it’s gonna look.’’ I said. “Let’s eat.’’

I opened the box of pizza we’d ordered. We all took a seat at the one table we hadn’t decorated. In the morning, it would be crowded with platters of grits and red-eye gravy; biscuits and fruit butter; country ham and sweet potato pancakes.

Maddie helped herself to a pizza slice from the pepperoni-and-sausage side. “What I don’t understand is how they think they can still throw this big church shindig. Everyone knows the pastor vamoosed after knocking off his wife’s lover and stealing from those poor hurricane victims.’’

“Allegedly, Maddie.’’ Marty lifted out a piece from the cheese-only side. “Allegedly. No one has talked to the man, so we don’t know Pastor Bob’s side of the story.’’ She took a tiny bite. “Haven’t you ever heard of the concept ‘innocent until proven guilty?’ ’’