“No. I want to crawl into bed and hide my head in shame.” The most embarrassing part of all was that the pastor’s wife had seen the whole thing.

“Tomorrow morning, I need to go back to the Club.”

“For what?”

“I need the second half of the list.”

“What’s on the list?”

“I won’t know until I see it, now will I?” She didn’t mean to be short-tempered, but this afternoon hadn’t been one of her best.

“I don’t know if I want you driving. There’s an ice storm forecast.”

“Greg, I have to get that list. I told Sarah I’d take care of this. It’s my responsibility.”

“Then I’ll drive you.”

“You will?” Mary felt better already.

“Of course. Can’t have you out on icy roads.” Her husband finished off the candy bar and returned to the kitchen, where he rummaged through the bags on the counter. “You never did say why you bought all this candy.”

Mary looked over at the ten plastic bags that lined her kitchen counter and shuddered. Half of them were filled with candy bars. “You don’t want to know.”

Greg didn’t respond, but she caught him sneaking more Baby Ruth bars into his pockets and the sleeves of his sweater. He wasn’t fooling her, but some things were best ignored.

On the other hand, certain things had to be faced. “Greg,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m worried about Thom.”

“Why?”

“Did you see him with Noelle last night? The two of them were dancing.”

“Yes, dear, I saw them.”

“Doesn’t that concern you?” she asked.

“No.” He added a couple of candy bars to his pants pockets, as though she wasn’t going to see them protruding.

“Well, it should. Noelle is a sweet girl, but she’s her mother’s daughter. She’s not to be trusted.”

“Thom is an adult. He’s fully capable of making his own decisions. My advice is to stay out of it.”

Mary couldn’t believe her husband would say such a thing to her. “You don’t mean that! After what happened the last time—”

“You heard me. Stay out of it.”

“But Thom is—”

Greg just shook his head. She wanted to say more but swallowed the words. Fathers weren’t nearly as caring and concerned about matters of the heart; they lacked sensitivity. Greg hadn’t spent time with Thomas the way she had that fateful summer ten years earlier. The McDowell girl had crushed him.

Her husband started toward the garage.

“Greg,” she said.

“Yes, dear?”

“Put the candy bars back. I’m adding them to the charity baskets.”

He muttered something under his breath, then said, “Yes, dear.”