Jody’s shoulders ached that evening. Normally, she got up every hour and at least walked around the table a few times, but today she had wanted to get the veil that she’d spent days working on done. A bride from up near Sherman would be there on Friday for her final fitting, and the veil was literally the crowning glory. The dress was a simple off-the-shoulder satin, but the chapel-length train was set on a pearl tiara. Beads were not only scattered across the whole thing, but Jody had hand beaded the lace around the edges.

While she finished the last two feet of the train, her mind had wandered back to Quincy, and she worked for three hours without standing up. She locked up the shop and was about to go upstairs to stretch out when the phone rang. Mitzi was in the bathroom. It was Paula’s turn to make supper, so Jody went back to the sewing room and picked up the receiver.

“The Perfect Dress,” she said.

“Is this Jody?”

“Yes, it is. Who’s this?” If it was someone calling about Lyle’s motorcycle, she intended to give them an earful.

“It’s Quincy. I thought I recognized your voice. I’m calling about the old trailer out on the property that I’ve bought from Lyle. He says he won’t move it because it belongs to you. What do you want me to do with it?” he asked.

“Pour gasoline on it and throw a match at it.” There were too many memories attached to the small trailer for her to want to keep the damn thing, and besides, the roof leaked. When it rained they’d had to set a bucket in the middle of the floor to catch the drip.

“You could sell it. The tires are good and—” Quincy said.

“Wait a minute,” she butted in. “Don’t do anything with it. I’ll come out there right now and hook on to it.”

“I’ll meet you there,” he said.

“I can do it all by myself,” she told him.

“It’s my property. Wouldn’t want you to steal any of my dirt,” Quincy chuckled.

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” she said.

“See you later.” He ended the call.

Paula looked up from the stove when Jody arrived in the kitchen. Mitzi was at the counter, cutting up salad greens.

“So did we have a prospective bride on the phone?” Mitzi asked.

“No, it was Quincy,” Jody said. “Y’all will have to save me some supper. I’m going out to get my travel trailer. He’s officially bought the place from Lyle and wants the old trailer gone.”

“I’m surprised you’re bringing it back here.” Paula eased fettuccine noodles down into the pot of boiling water.

“You sure you want that thing? Why don’t you just tell him to take it to the salvage yard?” Mitzi said.