EVEN THOUGH I HAD TRIED TO DISCOURAGE YVONNE FROM TALK ing about Joyce, I still done a lot of thinking about her on my own. Some serious questions was coming at me. Had we done the right thing by exposing Odell’s misconduct? I hoped it wouldn’t force us to leave town, because I wasn’t ready to give up some of the friends we’d had for years, our lovely house, our jobs at the grill, our bootlegging business, and having Willie Frank nearby.

But I was realistic. Our lives would never be the same, no matter what. If Joyce stayed with Odell, they would never want to socialize with us again, and vice versa.

Odell’s deception was deeper than the Red Sea. But Joyce’s folks was as crazy about that sucker as Joyce was. It wouldn’t surprise me to hear that Mac and Millie forgave him when and if they found out about Betty Jean. I seriously doubted that they would let him off with punishment that didn’t fit his crimes, though. He’d be out of a job for sure, and they’d never trust him again. That was the least I expected. Even folks as gullible, forgiving, and stupid as Joyce and her parents, had to draw the line somewhere. If they didn’t, every colored person in Branson would talk about them like dogs. They’d be known as the town fools. All the folks who had thought Odell was such a great husband and a role model would drop him like a bad habit. When I turned onto our block, I pushed all of them wild thoughts out of my head. They had made my head hurt enough. “Yvonne, wake up. We’ll be home in a minute.”

She opened her eyes and sat up straight. “It’s about time.”

“This been one hell of a day,” I griped. “As soon as I walk through our front door, I’m going to get one of the biggest jars in the kitchen and fill it to the brim with the strongest booze we got, and drink every drop nonstop.”

“I’m going to do the same thing,” Yvonne said with a yawn.

We walked into our living room a few minutes after eight p.m. I was pleased to see that Willie Frank had been tending to a dozen-and-a-half guests. “Did Joyce enjoy the supper y’all treated her to?” he asked.

“Um, we had a unexpected mishap and didn’t get to eat nothing. I said something Joyce misinterpreted, and she got upset,” I replied in a low tone. We was standing by the end of the couch. There was a bunch of other folks around and I didn’t want them to hear us. “Anyway, before I could explain what I’d said, she took off running down the street and disappeared. We drove around for the longest time, but we couldn’t find her.”