Joyce swallowed hard and shook her head. She looked so miserable, I wanted to give her a hug. But I had a feeling that was the last thing she wanted from one of us. “What in the hell is going on?”

“You need to go in that restaurant and ask Odell that question,” Yvonne advised.

“How long have y’all known about that woman?” Joyce narrowed her eyes and looked directly at me. “Milton, I know how some men like to boast to their male friends when they’re involved with another woman. Sadie and Buddy told me how often you and Odell spend time in his office with the door closed. I don’t believe you didn’t know what he was up to before now.”

If she thought I had been covering for Odell, there was no telling what she would do to me. “No, I didn’t. I just found out a few weeks ago one Saturday evening when I accidentally stumbled up on him and Betty Jean and them kids at this same restaurant. I didn’t shame him then because I didn’t want to make a scene. Well, that Monday, I went to the store and told him to his face that I didn’t like what he was doing! I couldn’t let him give the rest of us married Christian men a bad name!” I boomed.

“Not only that, he been stealing money left and right from your folks’ business to support that woman and them kids. Part of the money he is using, is probably coming out of your paycheck,” Yvonne tossed in. “We couldn’t keep listening to you praise him knowing he was making a fool out of you and your parents.”

“Yvonne, you knew about it and wasn’t friend enough to tell me?” Joyce wailed, choking on a sob.

“Odell had enough wool to make a blanket pulled over your eyes. If we hadn’t brung you over here to see it, would you have believed me if I told you?” Yvonne asked with her hands on her hips.

Joyce gave her a blank stare. “That biggest boy looks pretty old,” she commented. “He must be at least four . . .”

“Yup. Which means Odell started up with Betty Jean right after he married you,” I pointed out.

Joyce inhaled suddenly, with her mouth hanging open. “Betty Jean? Y’all even know her name?” She looked so miserable now, I was surprised she wasn’t pulling her hair out and cussing a blue streak.

“Yup. He told me the whole story,” I admitted.

“Joyce, I don’t know how you want to handle this. If I was in your shoes, Milton would be mincemeat by now. You need to let Odell know you here. You want me to go ask him to come out here and face the music?” Yvonne said in a harsh tone of voice.