“The husband,” Dwight said. “Just minor stuff. Traffic violations, license irregularities. And any juvvie records for the boy would be sealed.”

Thinking of all we’d learned about Braz, I found myself hoping that Val was a decent son. I liked Tally, and on a purely selfish basis, I hoped she wouldn’t have her heart broken again by her second child.

The check arrived in a black plastic folder, and Dwight tucked a couple of bills inside the cover as I finished my drink.

“Ready?”

I nodded.

Out in the parking lot, he jingled his keys and asked if I wanted to drive.

“It’s still early and I’m not in any hurry now,” I said.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, the radio was tuned to a country station, or what passes for country these days, and Dwight flipped up and down the dial before turning it off with an impatient growl. “Hell of a note when you can’t find real country on the radio anymore.”

My stabs at conversation went nowhere, and we drove south on Old Forty-Eight in deepening silence till the lights of Garner faded behind us. The moon kept slipping in and out of hazy clouds, and the comfortable easiness that had been present between us during dinner seemed to be evaporating with each mile we traveled. He had sounded okay about Sylvia and Reid, but I wondered if maybe he was more down about it than he wanted to admit. It’s one thing to think a relationship’s going nowhere, quite another to have a friend cut you out so abruptly.

“Deb’rah?”

“Mmmm?”

As if paralleling my thoughts, he asked, “Did you mean it when you said you were tired of channel surfing?”

“Oh, God, yes,” I sighed. “I’m always clicking on the wrong guys. And now Minnie’s after me about my image. She thinks Paul Archdale may be planning to run against me next time and that I’m vulnerable to a whispering campaign.”

I’m a yellow-dog Democrat and Paul’s a Jesse Helms Republican, but that’s not the reason we dislike each other. We had a run-in over a dog once that could have gotten him disbarred and me reprimanded had we gone public with the situation. If he could get away with it, he’d smear me with the biggest creosote mop he could find.

“She keeps saying I need to just pick somebody respectable and settle down.”

“How about me?” said Dwight.

“Oh, I don’t think Minnie worries about your reputation. Men still get cut more slack these days. Even sheriff’s deputies.”

“No, I mean how about you and me get married?”

I looked at him in astonishment, expecting to see a big smile, hear a joking comment. Instead, the set of his jaw was serious in the glow of the dash lights and he kept his eyes fixed on the road.

“You’re not kidding, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Dwight—”

He still wouldn’t look at me. “It’s really not that crazy. Think about it a minute before you say no, all right? We’ve known each other since you were born. Our families like each other. We like the same old movies. We know each other’s moods and bad habits. You like Cal. Cal likes you.”