“Oh, poor Ty,” Dolly sighed, leaning back against the porch railing, blowing out a long stream of smoke. The sun was at high noon; she was happily languid. “I’ll bet he never recovered.”

JJ smiled over at her. “I heard he’s starting law school this fall. I think he’s just fine.”

“Oh,” Dolly said, disappointed. She smoked, and looked out toward the Bear Trap.

JJ laughed. “You’re such a little hypocrite.”

“What?”

“You pretend you want the best for everybody, but what you really want is whatever makes for good gossip.”

“That isn’t true!”

“Uh-oh,” JJ said, pointing his chin toward the avenue. “Speaking of gossipmongers.”

Dolly looked. There was Mrs. Fryt, crossing toward them, the red zinnia atop her hat bobbing in time with her step. She carried a bundle in her arms. She was watching her feet as she walked, and proceeding slowly.

Dolly panicked. She was sure it had been more than an hour since she’d seen Mrs. Fryt coming home from the market—and she was sure Mrs. Fryt had spied her sitting on the porch steps with JJ. And now she was still sitting on the porch with JJ! What would everyone think when they heard that she had been lounging around on the porch all day with JJ Mickelson, eating doughnuts? She lunged for the ashtray and stubbed out her cigarette, then scrambled to all fours and crawled over to the door. JJ was watching her over his shoulder, laughing.

Well, he might not care what the gossips said, but Dolly wasn’t enough out of her senses to have lost all concern. She reached up and twisted the door handle. “She’ll expect me to be working,” she whispered. She slipped inside (fortunately, the heavy oak door was open already, so it was only the screen door that she had to struggle with) and latched the door behind her. She leaned against it, trying to quiet her breath.

She waited what must have been a couple of minutes before she heard Mrs. Fryt calling. “Well, mercy me, it is you, JJ Mickelson,” warbled the woman, adding, “I had to come see you with my own eyes before I’d believe it. Is Dolly still here?”

“Hello, Mrs. Fryt,” JJ said. “Yes, she’s inside working.”

Bless him, Dolly thought.

“I brought you some tomatoes out of my garden,” Mrs. Fryt said. “It hasn’t been the best year for them, but we do what we can with what we have. Mercy me, those steps seem taller than they used to be.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Fryt,” he said. Dolly pictured him reaching out to take the bundle. “It’s kind of you to walk them all the way over here.”

“Well, I may not be a spring chicken,” she said, “but I still do get around. If I could just have the towel back when you’ve unpacked them.”

“Of course.”