“Anyway, he has to have something to look forward to,” Parr added. He paused, looking into her eyes with unnerving directness. She met his gaze with an effort. “I guess he’s got you, Mary Beth. That’s something.”

That was definitely a dig. She didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Parr.” She set the empty cup down.

“Well, I do. Do you think pretending you’re his girl is going to help him get better? I know you don’t love him.”

So that was it. Parr really was jealous of poor, banged-up Bobby Joe. Let him be jealous. It didn’t mean she had to sit here and listen to him.

“Table’s all yours. I have to leave,” she said briskly, picking up her things.

He stayed in his chair. She was grateful for that.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Nowhere in particular.”

His gaze held her there.

“Well, nowhere that would interest you. I was thinking of buying new curtains for the kitchen in our house.” That was a lie. “There’s a housewares store not too far from here.” That was true. “They have a good selection. Ruffles, gingham, maybe plain shades—I haven’t decided.”

Surely he wouldn’t invite himself along on a boring errand like that. She’d tell him nothing doing if he dared to.

“Have fun,” he said.

Mary Beth gave a nod and made her exit. She could sense Parr’s eyes on her back as she maneuvered through the tables.

She had to get away from him.

Mary Beth went through the cafeteria doors without looking back.

She scrabbled through her purse, looking for her car keys. The damn purse had a habit of eating them. Her fingers closed around them. Mary Beth lifted her head and looked for her car. The lot was nearly full. Visitors generally arrived in droves by late afternoon.

The doors clicked open when she pressed the remote to unlock them. Absentmindedly, she slung her purse over her shoulder, then took it off again, about to put it in the passenger seat when she got in. A woman walking hurriedly through the rows of cars caught her eye.

Luellen. Her high heels clicked and every step made her tight skirt stretch to accommodate her stride. It clung. She’d gained a few pounds.

That was what happened when you hung around in mall food courts, Mary Beth thought furiously. And only Luellen would squeeze into an outfit like that to visit a hospital.

She was mad enough to spit. Mary Beth wasn’t going to let her supposed rival treat Bobby Joe like a wounded hero and chat up the nurses. Unless—it was nearly unthinkable—he had invited her.

That was impossible. He was in no shape to set up a rendezvous. And Parr hadn’t given him the tablet yet. This had to be Luellen’s big idea.