After hearing what Milton just said, a thought jumped into my head so fast, it almost gave me a buzz. “I got it. I know where we should tell Joyce about Odell and Betty Jean in a way she’ll have to believe us.” I didn’t wait for him to say nothing. “We’ll tell her we want to treat her to a nice supper for being so generous to us. We can let the cat out the bag in a restaurant.”

“Didn’t I just say we don’t need to tell her in a place where she can grab something to hit us with?”

I nodded. “Yup. The only weapon she could get her hands on in a restaurant would be something like a chair. With waiters and waitresses milling about, I don’t think they’d let her go too far. As soon as she gets hysterical, they’d just make us leave.” I was talking so fast I had to stop and catch my breath.

“Yvonne, why do you want to do it in a restaurant?”

“Hush up and hear me out. I ain’t talking about just any restaurant. We’ll borrow Willie Frank’s truck and take her to the same one in Hartville where Odell hangs out with that woman and them kids. When we get up in there, we’ll ask around until we hook up with the waitresses that know him, and we’ll get them to back up our story.”

Milton’s eyes lit up like lightbulbs. “Baby, that’s brilliant. Ooo-wee. I can’t wait.” His excitement didn’t last long. A few seconds later, his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “What’s wrong now?” I asked.

He hesitated before he answered. “Baby, we still got to worry about Joyce getting hysterical. She’d draw all kinds of attention that’ll make us look bad, too. People might think we as crazy as she is just because we with her.”

“So what?” I snickered and shook my finger in Milton’s face. “The important thing is, with them waitresses backing us up, Joyce will have to believe what we tell her.”

“But how would we keep her calm during the ride back to Branson? You know what a fool she is for Odell. She might forgive him and get mad at us for busting her bubble.”

“Milton, we ain’t responsible for Odell fooling around on her.”

“She might pull a kill-the-messenger stunt on us.”

“You mean blame us for delivering bad news?”

“Exactly. Please keep that in mind.”

“I will, sugar. But I don’t think we should let that stop us.”

“Look, Yvonne. The bottom line is, we’ll tell her and deal with the consequences the best way we can. Now go in the tool drawer and get me them pliers so I can pull the toenails off these damn chicken feet.”