“Look, I’ll be straight with you. I certainly appreciate your offer to redo the kitchen, but can we postpone it for now?”

“Took a lot of money to convince my best guys to travel to Iminga. Exactly how long do you want to put it on hold?”

“Just for a few days,” Alma hastened to say. “I cleaned it out beforehand just like you asked me to. So they could get started. But something’s happened. And it may need your full attention.”

Parr groaned under his breath. He propped the cell phone between his shoulder and ear while he collected the fast food to throw it out when this unwelcome call was over.

“What did Bobby Joe do now? I almost don’t want to know.”

She rattled on. “He and Mary Beth had a fight about something. They’re not speaking.”

“Whatever happened, they have to figure it out for themselves. I can’t interfere.”

“I know. But couldn’t you just talk to him? Find out what’s going on?”

“If they aren’t sharing the details, then let it alone.”

His blunt advice kept her from going on and on about it. Parr meant every word. Especially since he was thinking that Bobby Joe might have asked some questions about Mary Beth’s new necklace, if he’d happened to see it.

Yet she’d kept it hidden. Parr had gathered that her sexual relationship with his brother wasn’t all that intense. It didn’t seem likely that Bobby Joe had ripped off her blouse during fun and games. No, Parr thought sourly. Bobby Joe saved that for other men’s wives, not his beautiful fiancée. Still, she might have been caught unawares. But Mary Beth wouldn’t have blurted out the truth: that Parr had given her the ruby strawberry as a memento of an affair that wasn’t going to happen, motivated by feelings he couldn’t allow himself to have.

Gail hadn’t been wrong when she’d characterized the gift of jewelry as personal. But she had no idea of its deeper meaning and never would.

Hell. Even though he was deflecting Alma’s concerns, Parr knew he had to get back home sooner rather than later.

He ended the conversation with his mother on a lighter note as he rolled out of the take-out place, on his way home.

Alma quietly replaced the receiver and turned to Howard, who was reading the newspaper in an easy chair.

“Parr says to leave them alone.”

“He’s right.” Howard carefully folded the sports section for later reading and set the newspaper aside. “You have to butt out, Alma, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I want this to work for Bobby Joe. He needs Mary Beth. It’s time for him to settle down.”

“Hmm. Seems to me you ought to be saying that about Parr. He’s older.”