He offered, “I’ll tell you if you tell me. You go first.”

Sara had dressed for church, but she wasn’t going to take the bait. “I talked to Jeffrey,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Y’all married yet?”

“You know we’re not.”

“Don’t forget I want to be a bridesmaid.”

“Hare-”

“I told you that story, didn’t I? About the cow getting the milk for free?”

“Cows don’t drink milk,” she returned. “Why didn’t you tell me he’d been exposed?”

“There was some oath they made me take after medical school,” he told her. “Something that rhymes with step-o-matic…”

“Hare-”

“Super-matic…”

“Hare,” Sara sighed.

“Hippocratic!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I wondered why we all had to stand around in robes eating canapés, but you know I never pass up an opportunity to wear a dress.”

“Since when did you develop scruples?”

“They dropped around the time I was thirteen.” He winked at her. “Remember how you used to try to grab them when we took baths together?”

“We were two years old when I did that,” she reminded him, giving a disparaging downward glance. “And the phrase ‘needle in a haystack’ comes to mind.”

“Oh!” he gasped, putting his hands to his mouth.

“Hey,” Tessa called. She was walking down the street, Bella at her side. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s okay,” Sara told her, relieved and disappointed at the same time.

Tessa kissed Hare’s cheek. “You look so pretty!”

Hare and Sara said, “Thank you,” at the same time.

“Let’s go up to the house,” Bella told them. “Hare, fetch me a Co-cola, will you?” She dug around in her pocket and pulled out a key. “And get my shawl off the back of my chair.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, sprinting toward the house.

Sara told Tessa, “We’re running late. Maybe we should-”

“Give me a minute to change,” Tessa said, darting up the stairs to her apartment before Sara could bow out gracefully.

Bella put her arm around Sara’s shoulder. “You look about ready to collapse.”

“I was hoping Tess would notice.”

“She probably did, but she’s too excited about you coming along to let that get in the way.” Bella leaned on the railing as she sat on the front steps.

Sara joined her aunt, saying, “I don’t understand why she wants me to go.”

“This is a new thing for her,” Bella said. “She wants to share it.”

Sara sat back on her elbows, wishing Tessa had found something more interesting to share. The theater downtown was running a Hitchcock retrospective, for instance. Or they could always learn needlepoint.

“Bella,” Sara asked. “Why are you here?”

Bella leaned back beside her niece. “I made a fool of myself for love.”

Sara would have laughed if anyone else had said it, but she knew her aunt Bella was particularly sensitive where romance was concerned.

“He was fifty-two,” she said. “Young enough to be my son!”

Sara raised her eyebrows at the scandal.

“Left me for a forty-one-year-old chippie,” Bella said sadly. “A redhead.” Sara’s expression must have shown some sort of solidarity, because Bella added, “Not like you.” Then, putting a finer point on it, “Carpet didn’t exactly match the drapes.” She stared out at the road, wistful. “He was some kind of man, though. Very charming. Dapper.”

“I’m sorry you lost him.”

“The bad part is that I threw myself at his feet,” she confided. “It’s one thing to be dumped, quite another to beg for a second chance and have your face slapped.”

“He didn’t-”

“Oh, good Lord, no,” she laughed. “I pity the wayward soul who tries to raise his hand to your aunt Bella.”

Sara smiled.

“You should take that as a lesson, though,” the older woman warned. “You can only be rebuffed so many times.”

Sara chewed her bottom lip, thinking she was getting really tired of people telling her she should marry Jeffrey.

“You get to be my age,” Bella continued, “and different things matter than they did when you were young and fancy-free.”

“Like what?”

“Like companionship. Like talking about literature and plays and current events. Like having someone around who understands you, has gone through the things you have and come out at the other end that much the wiser for it.”

Sara could sense her aunt’s sadness, but didn’t know how to alleviate it. “I’m sorry, Bella.”

“Well”-she patted Sara’s leg-“don’t worry about your aunt Bella. She’s been through worse, I’ll tell you that. Tossed around like a used box of crayons”- she winked- “but I’ve managed to maintain the same vibrant colors.” Bella pursed her lips, studying Sara as if she had just noticed her for the first time. “What’s on your mind, pumpkin?”

Sara knew better than to try to lie. “Where’s Mama?”

“League of Women Voters,” Bella said. “I don’t know where that father of yours got off to. Probably down at the Waffle House talking politics with the other old men.”

Sara took a deep breath and let it go, thinking now was as good a time as any. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

Sara turned to face her, lowering her voice in case Tessa had her windows open or Hare was about to sneak up on them. “You mentioned before about Daddy forgiving Mama when she cheated.”

Bella cast a wary glance. “That’s their business.”

“I know,” Sara agreed. “I just…” She decided to come out and say it. “It was Thomas Ward, wasn’t it? She was interested in Thomas Ward.”

Bella took her time before giving a single nod. To Sara’s surprise, she provided, “He was your father’s best friend since they were in school together.”

Sara couldn’t remember Eddie ever mentioning the man’s name, though, considering the circumstances, it made sense.

“He lost his best friend because of it. I think that hurt him almost as much as the possibility of losing your mother.”

“Thomas Ward is the man who runs this church Tessa is so excited about.”

Again, she nodded. “I was aware.”

“The thing is,” Sara began, wondering again how to phrase her words, “he has a son.”

“I believe he has a couple of them. Some daughters, too.”

“Tessa says he looks like me.”

Bella’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you saying?”

“I’m afraid to say anything.”

Above them, Tessa’s door opened and slammed shut. Her footsteps were quick on the stairs. Sara could almost feel her excitement.

“Honey,” Bella said, putting her hand on Sara’s knee. “Just because you’re sitting in the henhouse, that don’t make you a chicken.”

“Bella-”

Tessa asked, “Ready?”

“Y’all have fun,” Bella said, pressing her hand into Sara’s shoulder as she stood. “I’ll leave the light on.”

The church was not what Sara had been expecting. Located on the outskirts of the farm, the building resembled pictures of old Southern churches Sara had seen in storybooks as a child. Instead of the huge, ornate structures gracing Main Street in Heartsdale, their stained glass windows coloring the very heart of the town, the Church for the Greater Good was little more than a clapboard house, the exterior painted a high white, the front door very similar to the front door of Sara’s own house. She would not have been surprised if the place was still lit by candles.

Inside was another story. Red carpet lined a large center aisle and Shaker-style wooden pews stood sentry on either side. The wood was unstained, and Sara could see the cutmarks in the scrolled backs where the pews had been carved by hand. Overhead were several large chandeliers. The pulpit was mahogany, an impressive-looking piece of furniture, and the cross behind the baptismal area looked like it had been taken down from Mt. Sinai. Still, Sara had seen more elaborate churches with more riches openly displayed. There was something almost comforting in the spare design of the room, as if the architect had wanted to make sure the focus stayed on what happened inside the building rather than the building itself.