“Well, I wouldn’t worry about her. If Stubby manages to graduate from high school, he’ll be the first in that family.”

“But she’s influential. People listen to what she says, and she always has a lot to say. I bet the phone wires are just buzzing, and meanwhile my reputation is going down the tubes.”

“What if Bill finds out?”

“Sue! There’s nothing for Bill to find out! I’m not attracted to Barney at all.”

“A lot of women are.”

“I have trouble believing that.”

“Why? These things happen, you know.”

“Culpepper’s belly hangs over his pants.”

“Just because you don’t find him attractive doesn’t mean that other women don’t.”

“Well, I do know Barney. He’s a family man, he likes kids, he’s kind of an overgrown kid himself. And even if he wasn’t devoted to Marge, where would he carry on an affair?”

“There’s lots of camps out in the woods. A roaring fire, a Hudson Bay blanket, a man with a gun . . . it could be kind of exciting.”

“Whatever turns you on,” said Lucy, neatly turning the tables on her friend. “Seriously, it’s an awful feeling when you know people are talking about you. I feel so exposed. I can understand how Marcia Miller must have felt. No wonder she left.”

“That, or a guilty conscience?”

“Who knows?” said Lucy, growing impatient. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

She hung up the phone and turned to see her mother entering the kitchen. She was glad to see she was still in her robe and slippers. So far during her visit she had appeared fully dressed each morning. When Lucy went in to tidy Toby’s room she found both twin beds neatly made and her mother’s suitcase zipped shut and placed at the foot of the bed.

“Did you have a good night?” asked Lucy.

“I did,” answered her mother, pouring a cup of coffee. “I’ve slept better here than I have in a long time. I think it’s sleeping in the same room with Toby. I hear his breathing, and it’s so peaceful that I fall right to sleep. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“You must miss Dad a lot.”

“Especially at night. I don’t like being alone. If I hear a little noise, I get frightened. I’m nervous all the time.”

Lucy nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“I wonder if you do. I don’t think anybody knows what it’s like until it happens to them. Losing a father isn’t like losing a husband.”

“Maybe,” said Lucy, not quite willing to admit that losing her father was insignificant compared with her mother’s loss. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Just an English muffin.”

“How about an egg or two? Or some hot cereal?” asked Lucy, eyeing her mother’s flat cheeks and stick wrists.