A pause. “I could bring them in the kitchen and unpack them for you. Maybe Dolly needs some help.”

Dolly scrambled to all fours again, prepared to crawl farther into the house. What chore could she pretend to be in the middle of?

“That’s all right, Mrs. Fryt,” JJ said smoothly. “I’m sure Dolly’s doing fine. Why don’t I just unpack these right here? Line them up here so they can get a little more fresh air.”

“Oh, but then you’ll have to carry them inside one by one and that will take you so long with your—I mean, they ought to go in the icebox, so they’ll keep.”

“Oh, now, Mrs. Fryt, these are still just a little green,” he said. “My grandma always said that tomatoes were best when they were ripened in the sun. They had the most flavor that way, she said.”

“Your grandmother,” Mrs. Fryt grumbled. “Wasn’t she afraid they’d spoil?”

There was silence a moment. Dolly relaxed, and sank back down into sitting.

Then, Mrs. Fryt again: “Besides, if you want sun, you’d better bring them around to the back.”

JJ said nothing.

After a moment, Mrs. Fryt spoke again. “How is your grandmother?”

“She’s fine, thank you.”

Dolly pressed her fingers to her lips. She had thought that Wilma was dead!

“Will she be coming back home?”

“I don’t think so,” JJ said.

“Are you planning to stay?”

There was a pause. “Not sure,” he said.

“I see Dolly’s been taking her share of breaks,” Mrs. Fryt said. “There’s lipstick on some of those cigarettes. Unless you have another woman here visiting you. You aren’t married, are you?”

JJ laughed. “No, I’m not married.”

“I didn’t think so. Dolly said she was bringing you something from the bakery, so I supposed you didn’t have a wife.”

“Well, you supposed right, Mrs. Fryt.”

“Are you sure I can’t take those into the kitchen for you?” There was a clomp: She must have taken a step up onto the porch steps. Dolly sank lower behind the door.

“No, thanks, Mrs. Fryt, they’ll be fine,” JJ said. “Thanks again for bringing them over.”

“Mercy me, JJ, don’t bother standing up,” she said quickly.

“Here’s your towel,” said JJ.

“Thank you,” she said. “Well, I’m right across the street, if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Fryt,” he said. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Well, that’s what neighbors are for, isn’t it?” she proclaimed.

With that, she must have gone; there was utter silence. Dolly’s breath felt heavy, and she tried to catch it.

Wilma was alive!

So why on earth wasn’t she here in Pine Rapids?