“On the mend,” she said. She went back to sorting through photos: a river baptism, a picnic, a pile of watermelons with a baby perched on top, Miss Zula with a small white dog, Miss Maddie with an elegant woman wearing a long mink coat. John Grant on the cusp of puberty, his face bland with boredom on a Sunday-afternoon visit, Rob next to him, his eyes crossed and his tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth. A woman standing behind them, dark haired and light eyed, her hand on John’s head.

“John’s mother?”

“Yup. That would be Miss Lucy.” And: “I’m taking this box out to the van.”

She had been trying very hard to keep John out of her thoughts, mostly because Rivera could read sexual desire and frustration as easily as she could a fortune cookie. But then Rivera seemed fairly distracted herself. She was thinking about this, about how tired and strained Rivera looked, whether that came from last night’s party or if something else was wrong, and how likely that seemed, given her long silence, when the phone rang. They both jumped, and then Rivera reached over to hit the speaker button.

“This is Win Walker. Is that Angie or Rivera?”

“Both of us,” Rivera said. “You’re on the speaker.”

“Hey,” Angie said, trying to sound friendly.

“Harriet asked me to call you to let you know that Tab is still in the hospital, and he’ll be here for a few days at least. They’re talking about bypass surgery. But the Rose girls want to make sure everybody knows that the wedding is still on for Saturday, as long as Tab is on the mend.”

Angie dropped her head. There was a swipe of dried mustard on the cuff of her jeans. How that had got there, she had no idea. She studied it with great interest while Win Walker went on with his report. She fought the urge to ask him whether he didn’t have other, more important phone calls to make, because she certainly had better things to do with her time.

“Okay,” Rivera said finally. “Thanks for letting us know. Is the whole clan down there?”

“Pretty much,” Win said. “Miss Maddie and Father Bruce are sitting with Harriet and the boys. Caroline and John went up to the lake to tell Miss Junie in person—”

Angie let out a small sound, one that Rivera caught. She shot her a questioning look, which Angie pretended not to see.

“—and Miss Zula has gone with them. You never know how Miss Junie will take the news.”

Angie made another small sound; she couldn’t help herself.

“Well, thanks again,” Rivera said, still looking at Angie very hard.

“Hold on a minute, Miss Maddie wants to talk to you.”

There was a scuffling and then Miss Maddie’s high, wavering voice came over the speaker.