She snapped out of her daydream, stopped mopping the counter, and turned slowly to where Sharon Lou stood at the far end. Seated across from Sharon was Carol Gastineau, a sturdy woman in a snappy tweed business suit with a briefcase laid next to her coffee cup. “You’ve been off work for fifteen minutes now,” Sharon reminded her. “Why don’t you go on home?”

Billie smiled tiredly, took her apron off, and went around the counter, but only to take a seat on one of the empty stools. “The boys have been out since this morning, playing football I imagine. I’d just as soon hang around here than be in the house alone.”

“Is that old house bothering you, honey?” Carol said with a smile and a gleam in her eye and Billie knew she’d said the wrong thing. Carol was the local real estate agent, and land was her life. “You be sure to tell me,” she went on, “because if it is, I just know we can come to some kind of arrangement.” She drummed her fingers on the genuine imitation leather of her case as if it contained all of the treasures one could ever wish for. “I’ll bet I can get you a good price for your old place, well, not too much, but a decent price just the same. Now,” she snapped the clasps on the case and arched her eyebrows, “what kind of house do you have your heart set on?”

“Put your teeth back in your mouth, Giggy,” Sharon said sharply, “she didn’t say she was selling or buying.”

Carol huffed and sipped her coffee. Giggy had been her nickname in high school, back when she was a cheerleader and one of the popular girls while Sharon Lou Moore was just a face in the crowd. But nowadays the only person to remember was Sharon, and she twisted it like a knife every chance she got.

“I was only trying to help,” Carol muttered into her cup. “And you know, this coffee’s cold. Lou honey, would you be an angel and warm this up?” It was more a command than a question, a reminder of who was being served there and who did the serving.

Sharon shrugged it off and, with a bigger smile, overran her cup. “Oh. Sorry about that. Giggy.”

“I appreciate the thought, Carol,” Billie said, signaling a truce. “But I’m not really interested in getting rid of my house right now.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“That new boy in town,” Sharon said, then caught Billie’s look. “Excuse me . . . new man. Billie’s kinda taken up with him.”

“You don’t have to make it sound so back alley,” Billie complained. “He’s just a nice guy’s all.”

Sharon leaned across the counter as if it were a back fence. “You never did tell me about the other night when he went home with you ’uns.”