“You didn’t eat at the club?” It was a silly question. Tolly had no doubt been sitting in the bar all night. He was swaying slightly.

“No, I wasn’t hungry earlier. How did your meeting go?” He fixed his stare on the serving platters and bowls stacked on the counter, then swiped a finger through some chocolate frosting. He licked it off and gathered more, which he dragged down her left cheek.

“Tolly...”

“What, dear? I’m just being playful. You always say I’m too ser-ee-ous.” He slapped her butt hard enough to sting. “I’m going to change clothes. Will you cook me a steak and baked potato?”

“That will take a while, Tolly. Wouldn’t you rather have a nice chicken salad sandwich?”

Genny swung the kitchen door open. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. I can’t find my keys. Hi, umm, Tolliver, nice to see you, oh there they are next to the refrigerator, goodnight y’all.” Genny was backing out of the room.

“Don’t be so quick to leave, Genevieve,” Tolly said, eyes glittering. “Come tell me what you and my lovely wife did tonight. Explain the mysteries of your cult to me.”

“Tolly, please, Genny needs to get home to her kids.” Violet dried her hands and swiped the frosting off her face. She moved to walk Genny out, but Tolly halted her with a hand to her abdomen.

“Oh,” Genny said, “It’s all pretty boring stuff. Just girl talk and nibbling on snacks.”

“Then you all can have your goddam meetings in someone else’s house. I thought y’all were doing something worthwhile.” Tolly made an exaggerated shrug and laughed, adding, “Not really.” He sneered at Genny and headed toward the staircase.

Violet waited until he was out of sight and walked to Genny’s side. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “He’s had a rough day.”

Genny was crying. “Violet, you don’t have to stay here. Come with me.”

“Don’t be silly.” Violet opened the massive oak door. “He’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Genny walked into the night with a backward glance, promising to telephone in the morning. Violet stood stock-still, too embarrassed to move. “Drive safely,” she called, closing and locking the door.

She selected a frying pan for the steak and placed a large potato in the sink to scrub. She was turning on the oven when Tolly entered the kitchen. He leaned against a far wall, arms folded, and watched her work.

Violet said, “How was the hospital today?”

“One of my patients bled out. It was swell.” Tolly rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Can’t trust the nurses to do their fucking jobs.”

“Oh, Tolly,” Violet struggled for the right words. “I am so sorry. I’m sure you did everything you could.”