“I was supposed to buy the groceries for this whole week, so I’ll go,” Nessa said. “I agree with Nanny Lucy, though. We need to buy a cow.”

“You going to milk it when we do?” Flynn teased.

“If I put out my money to buy it, then you should have to milk it, and April has to feed it,” Nessa shot back at him. “Let’s have supper, and then I’ll make a run up to Paris. There are some other things I need from Walmart, so I can kill two birds with one stone.”

“I’ll go with you,” April said. “While we’re there, we might as well buy the groceries for next week. That way we don’t have to go back on Tuesday evening.”

“You got a hot date on that night?” Flynn pushed himself up off the sofa and took his place at the kitchen table.

“I did, but I’m standing him up next Tuesday,” April said. “His name is Wally Mart, but like most of the guys I’ve known in the past, he’s just there to take my money, and if I don’t have any, he tosses me out on my butt.”

Nessa set a basket of hot biscuits on the table and then sat down. “Looks to me like all three of us have had some bad luck when it comes to dating.”

“Please don’t marry Jackson and leave us.” April picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes, scooped a big spoonful onto her plate, and then passed them across the table to Flynn.

“What . . . I don’t . . . Why . . . What did you say?” Nessa sputtered.

“I still had one eye open last night when you came home,” April told her. “That was not the shirt you had on when you left for a walk. You were barefoot, and you weren’t wearing shorts. I don’t want you to marry him and leave us. I can cook, but not as good as you, and Flynn only knows how to make soup and sandwiches. We’ll starve if you leave.”

“Did you and Jackson . . .” Flynn froze with a spoonful of mashed potatoes in the air. The potatoes fell off the spoon, missed his plate, and landed on the plastic place mat.

“I told you this morning that I sat down in a pile of fire ants, and that Jackson rescued me. I was wearing his shirt because my shirt and shorts as well as my flip-flops are still out there in the woods by an old log. After being nearly devoured by those miserable ants, I’m donating my shirt and shorts and flip-flops to them. I don’t ever intend to take a walk down that path again. As for the rest, I’m pleading the Fifth-and-a-Half Amendment that says that a lady don’t kiss and tell,” Nessa said.