“Yeah, we noticed that,” JJ said, cringing a little when she lifted his legs to get his pants off.

Meanwhile, in the golden dining room, Nick dug into the waffles that Wilma had piled on his plate. She had seated him at an unused place setting, then declared that she ought to get started on the dishes and get the turkey in the oven for dinner. The red-haired girl, Anne, quickly moved to help her, and soon they had the table all clear except for Nick’s things. Elissa’s mother, meanwhile, was out in the hallway, cleaning up where JJ had been sick.

Nick felt awful to sit there and eat while the rest of them worked, especially since he’d been the one to interrupt their breakfast, but Wilma insisted. Wilma insisted, too, that her son Harry sit and keep Nick company, so Harry lit a cigarette and smoked and drank coffee from a china cup while Nick ate. He asked how Nick knew Elissa; Nick, between bites, filled him in.

“So my dad told you that Lissa was engaged to this Ben Granton?” Harry said at the end of it, stubbing out his cigarette in a golden ashtray.

“Yes, sir. That’s how come I’m back, because I read about him getting killed.” Nick was beginning to feel like a broken record, explaining himself like this. He just wished Elissa would come downstairs and tell him whether or not she would marry him. If she didn’t appear soon, he was about to make himself scarce. It was a real strain, being in this strange house and not knowing whether he was wanted, and he was getting powerful homesick. The Wisconsin maple syrup and the waffles were good, but they couldn’t compare to his mother’s corn bread.

“But she wasn’t engaged to him, and you weren’t engaged to anyone back home?” Harry said.

“That’s right, sir. I didn’t know she thought I was.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Where did you say you’re from?”

“Dover, Tennessee.”

Harry took a drink of coffee. “Well, like my mom said, Dad probably just wanted to be sure Lissa married a hometown boy. He’s always set a store by her. And he’s never really known anyone from the South, I guess. Except—” He stopped, looked at Nick. Then he shook his head a little, smiled, and took another sip of coffee. “Well, no,” he said, looking down into his cup. Then he looked up. “In any case, may I offer my apologies, whatever his motivations were. That’s just my dad. He’s used to getting his way. I know it isn’t a good excuse, but it’s the one we’ve always used for him.”

The sound of knocking at the front door carried into the dining room.

“Ah,” Harry said, raising his eyebrows. “Well, now you’ll get to meet Lissa’s fiancé.”

Nick’s stomach turned.