“Well, it was the neighbor ladies. Some took this and some took that. There was Mrs. Albertson and the widow Nagelman and Neal Seavitts, that woman he’s married to. I never saw her before, but she was right up front, stuffing things in a gunnysack she brought. Some others too I don’t remember, there was eight or ten of them all at once. I was talking to them after the Sunday service last week. They asked about Velma’s things, what became of them. I said you hadn’t taken any of it and they could come for a look, see if there was anything they wanted. That’s all I said. They came by the next day and they didn’t hardly leave me and Lee enough to eat on.”

“What were you thinking, Jim? How could you let them do that? They’re nothing but thieves and vultures, those women. Picking over her things. The nerve of them. They were Velma’s things, they belonged to us. That’s all we had of her. They weren’t yours to give away!”

Jim scuffed a toe in the dirt, embarrassed. Lee backed away, not wanting to put himself in the way of Emaline’s wrath. Jim’s blue eyes were watery. He looked as though he was feeling as bad as a man could feel.

“I would of said something if I knew you wanted all that. Didn’t seem right for me and Lee to keep it all, a couple of bachelors like us. All we need is a frypan and a coffeepot and somethin to eat with, plates and forks and knives. That’s about all we got left now they’re through, that and the quilts on the beds. I told them not to touch those because I didn’t want to freeze to death.”

Jim had taken his hat off to greet her. As always when he removed his hat, his hair stuck up like a boy’s. It made her unreasonably angry, as though he had acted like a boy instead of a man when he failed to protect Velma’s things.

“Of course I wanted her things. I couldn’t bear to part with any of it. That’s why I didn’t get it sorted out before. Charlie brought me out here this morning and Calla came to help and it’s all gone.”

“Gosh, I’m awful sorry, Emaline. Them ladies was so anxious to get their hands on everythin. I guess I ought to said no, but you hadn’t said what you wanted to keep, so I let it go.”

“My poor mother. In her whole life she never had a man who was worth a damn. Frank was a saddle tramp and Watson was a drunk and you were supposed to be the good one. And now look what you’ve done.”