“You never did have those things wrong with you.” His father’s tone was curt.

“No, but I was well on the way to having both.” Jackson had had this same conversation too many times to remember. “I’ve got neighbors now. Miz Lucy’s grandkids have moved into her house. Two women and a guy. It’s kind of nice knowing someone about my age is over there.”

“I guess it would be,” his mother, Linda, said. “You haven’t been around anyone but old people in five years. When are you coming home for a visit?”

“Maybe Christmas.” Jackson said the same thing he always did. That was when he would go back to South Texas, even though just a few days away from Blossom felt like years. Until then he was busy with his business. “But my door is open anytime y’all want to get away for a weekend and come to Blossom.”

“We just might do that,” Linda said.

Jackson wasn’t about to hold his breath. His face wouldn’t look good in that shade of blue. He smiled at the old adage he’d heard both Uncle D. J. and Miz Lucy say many times when they knew some event wouldn’t happen or someone wouldn’t come through with a promise.

“Let me know a day ahead of time, and I’ll thaw some T-bones and grill them for you,” he said.

“Will do,” James answered, “and you know you’ve got a place in the firm anytime you get tired of messing around in that little Podunk town. Right now, it’s time for your mother and me to go to church.”

“Y’all have a good day,” Jackson said.

“You too.” This from his mother.

“And that ends the Sunday phone call,” he said as he shoved the phone back into his shirt pocket.

Tex came around the side of the house and plopped down beside him. Tongue hanging out and panting, the dog laid his head on Jackson’s knee.

“Been out for an early-morning run?” Jackson heaved a sigh of relief that the weekly phone call was over. “Your feet are wet. I bet you made a side trip by the creek, didn’t you? We belong right here in our little part of Blossom, Texas, don’t we?” He rubbed the dog’s ears. “Maybe if my brother and sister hadn’t been teenagers when I was born, things would be different, or if I hadn’t overheard my folks talking about me being an ‘oops baby’ to their friends, I would have felt like I belonged in their world. But that’s all water under the bridge. I tried to make them happy, but I was miserable.”

The dog jumped up, almost in a hunting-dog point at the side of the house. The hair on his back stood straight up, and he growled deep down in his throat.

“What is it, old boy?” Jackson asked.