“I’m not through,” Miss Loretta says. “Paris, Vy wanted this first Thanksgiving to be at your house, since you like to cook, and that, every year thereafter, you children vote to see whose home you’ll spend it at next.”

“Well, we can just skip Lewis,” Janelle says.

“Why?” Miss Loretta asks.

“It’s a long story,” I say. “A very long story.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she says.

“No, Miss Loretta. We don’t want to bore you with it. But tell me something. Are you still going to go on the cruise?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t go now. There’s no way I could step foot on that cruise ship without Vy.”

“That’s sweet,” Janelle says.

“So does that mean you’re coming to the funeral?”

“Absolutely. Vy begged me not to get sentimental. But I never listened to her when she tried to boss me around, I’m certainly not going to start now. If there’s anything I can help you girls do, please yell right out that window.”

“We will,” I say, as we both give her a hug. “And thanks for being Mama’s friend all these years.”

Janelle is nodding when I blurt out: “Miss Loretta, did Mama ever learn to play bridge?”

“Goodness, no! Vy was terrible at it. Just terrible,” she says, and is laughing as she walks out the front door.

Janelle and I are sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and sifting through Mama’s “junk drawer,” which is full of every possible receipt for every possible thing she has ever bought. But when I come across a layaway slip for none other than Thomasville furniture, I pull this out from the stack. “Janelle! Look at this! Mama has a five-thousand-dollar dining-room set in layaway!”

“You have got to be kidding!” She takes the slip from my hand, and just as she does, the phone rings.

It’s a collect call. And I know whom from. “Yes, I will,” I say. “Hi, Lewis.”

“Hi, Paris. How’s everybody doing?”

“We’re hanging in here, I guess. Can you come?”

“Yeah, they’re letting me out, but my lawyer’s gotta escort me. It’s for security reasons. But at least I get to be there with y’all. That’s how I see it, anyway.”

“He can come,” I whisper to Janelle.

“Good! We need you here, Lewis!” she yells.

“All right, then. I’ma hang up. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”

“You have to hang up so soon?”

“Yeah. We just came from court. But don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

“We love you, Lewis.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he says. He’s spent, too. All of us have been running on fumes these past few days. But now I need to perk back up. I get two pills out of my purse and down them with my coffee.

“What’s that you’re taking?” Janelle asks.

“Just something for tension headaches.”

“Let me have one,” she says.

“I can’t. They’re prescription.”

“So? If they work for you they should work for me.”

“Okay. But only take one, because they’re strong.”