Ridley held up Miss Maddie’s basket and started the bidding. The volunteer fire department went head to head with the college Faculty Club and the combined resources of the Mount Olive AME church. An individual had no chance at all, unless he was willing to put a second mortgage on his house.

“Sold!” Ridley Smith slammed the gavel down less than thirty seconds after the first bid had been shouted out. “To the deacons of the Mount Olive African Methodist Episcopal Church, two thousand forty-one dollars and fifty cents. Miss Maddie?”

There were hoots and whistles of appreciation as Miss Maddie walked off, head held high, on the arm of her nephew Martin.

“Granny Junie sent me to say you should go ahead and bid, if you care to.”

John turned to find Markus Holmes standing behind him.

“She thought maybe you’d feel like you couldn’t bid because Caroline isn’t here. She said you should go ahead, if you want.”

“I wasn’t planning on bidding,” John said.

“Because,” Markus said, as if John hadn’t replied at all, “you could go in with me and Tony.” He pointed to Tony Russo, who was standing on a chair with a video camera pressed to his face. “We’re going to bid on Rivera’s basket. Unless you were going to bid on Angie’s?”

John met his brother’s eye over Markus’s head. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll go in with you on Rivera’s basket. Put me down for fifty dollars.”

“It’ll take more than that,” Markus said. “How about a hundred? It’s for a good cause.”

“It’s for fireworks and watermelons,” said John. “But okay, count me in.”

Unless I miss my guess,” the mayor was saying in a voice that reverberated through the microphone, “I smell somebody’s mama’s secret recipe for macaroni and Vienna sausage casserole. Let’s see what else we got.” He held up the sheet of paper that listed the contents of each of the baskets.

“Well, now, look at this. I can’t remember the last time I had Coca-Cola cake. I believe I’ll have to start the bidding at fifty dollars.”

“I hope Tony is getting this,” Rivera said to Angie when Marylou Scott went off with Ogilvie’s high school football team. The boys had come up with close to three hundred dollars among them so they could each claim a spoonful of casserole, a chicken wing, and a few crumbs of cake. Now only two baskets remained on the table, but it seemed to Angie that the crowd was significantly bigger than it had been.