“Gail? She’s gone.” Parr’s response was matter-of-fact. “And to answer your other question, I’d asked her to drive down because the contract amendments for the new project needed a real signature. I can’t do everything via e-mail.”

“FedEx would have been faster.”

“What’s it to you?” He seemed amused.

“I just think it’s weird that neither Bobby Joe or you told me she was coming or when she was leaving.”

Parr shrugged, rolling up plans, which were dog-eared by now, and gathering up paperwork, all of which went into the big canvas bag on the extra seat.

“So what? She’s back in Memphis. And it wasn’t only the contracts. The old carpenter who’s doing the finishing work on my mother’s kitchen left behind a whole case of woodworking tools and he had to have them. And I needed clothes.”

The idea of Gail selecting he-man outfits and carefully packing them for her big bad boss irked her a lot. Mary Beth blurted out one last question. “Couldn’t you just go to the mall?”

A smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. “I like the clothes I have. New jeans are stiff. I don’t have the time to break them in.”

“Oh. I see.”

It was a good thing that there was no one close enough to eavesdrop on the tetchy conversation. Mary Beth couldn’t seem to stop herself. The two paper coffee cups had been drained and stuffed with napkins. She pushed them to one side with her finger.

“You really don’t have anything to worry about, Mary Beth.”

His calm reply grated on her ears. She was too frazzled to be soothed. There was more to do than ever at the hospital and in Iminga.

Nothing was ready. Her dad was a nervous wreck trying to get their house fitted up so that Alma could stay with him until the renovations—which had gone over budget and past the completion date—were done. Besides not sleeping well, Mary Beth never got a chance to go to the gym. Yoga wouldn’t cut it. Spinning on a stationary bike might do. Working herself into a mindless frenzy sounded pretty close to what she was doing here at the hospital, but without the loud music.

“So tell me about what you’re up to.” His tone was encouraging. “You mentioned bringing in some work yourself so you could stay caught up. That’s a good idea.”

“I finished it.”

“Good for you.” He was patronizing her, not encouraging her.

Mary Beth twisted the ring on her finger. The second one, the let’s-kiss-and-make-up ring, which was beginning to itch.