“Just needs time,” said Vern. “She just missing Paul like we all is. She don’t wanna miss you too.” Vern looked down at the floor. He sniffed a few times. “Well, I’s missing you two already. I miss you both a lot.”

Ruth threw herself at the large man and held him. She smelled his sweat and tried to remember everything about him so she could always take his memory with her when they went to Mobile to start a new life.

Vern looked at her with shiny cheeks. His eyes were wet, but the tears that rolled down his cheeks were hard to see in the dim light.

“I’ll miss you, Ruth.”

“I love you, Vern,” said Ruth.

Vern wrapped both large arms around them and held them so hard Ruth could hear her own ribs creak.

And it occurred to Ruth for the first time that Vern would be alone. A man who’d always lived his life with Paul and a litter of kids would be alone, living next to a woman who threw dictionaries at people sometimes.

“You could come with us,” said Pete. “There’s good work in Mobile.”

“No, sir,” said Vern. “She need me here. Besides, I’s too old. I don’t even know who’s in the mirror no more.” He laughed, and his brilliant white teeth showed. “I’m an old man, boy.”

His smile turned into wet eyes. She’d known Vern to endure anything. He was the strongest human she’d ever known. She’d seen him get bit by a copperhead on the ankle. He was sick for two weeks, but never once did he moan or complain. And he recovered.

He walked out of the kitchen. The screen door slapped shut.

“I told you she wouldn’t understand,” said Ruth.

*  *  *

Ruth sat beside Pete in the truck. He drove, keeping his eyes aimed at the windshield. Neither of them said much on the ride. She knew what they were doing was impulsive and youthful and irrational and unsmart. But it felt right.

The duffel bags of clothes were the only things she’d brought with her. She didn’t even bring her jewelry boxes. She felt it would be wrong somehow, since Miss Warner was the one who gave her all the jewelry. Stringbean rode in the back seat.

They crossed the county line, and Pete stopped at a local watering hole. It was a swinging-door saloon, right at the edge of the neighboring town. Ruth waited on the porch while Pete asked the men inside where the justice of the peace could be found. The liquored-up patrons were in good spirits. They met Pete with whoops and hollers and laughter.

“Justice of the peace?” one man shouted. “What fer?”

“Can’t you figure it out, Byron?” said another. “This man’s getting himself hitched.”

“You mean he’s enveloping?” said another.

“Ee-loooo-ping, you big dumb drunk.”