The table was crowded with glasses and bottles and open cans of Vienna sausages, at Wyeth’s insistence that they needed the full Hound Dog experience before they went back north and proclaimed themselves experts on the subject of drinking habits in the Deep South.

“You really did miss something fantastic,” Jude was saying. Her thin cheeks were pale even in the heat of the overcrowded room, but her eyes flashed with pleasure, as they always did when she had a new audience. Jude was ignoring Wyeth to size up Win, and Win was not completely immune. Angie reminded herself that it wasn’t her job to protect the gentle souls of the world from the more predatory ones, and Win Walker was a big boy.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw Miss Zula take somebody apart with such obvious delight. I almost felt sorry for the woman,” Jude finished.

“I wouldn’t feel sorry for Button Ogilvie,” said John. “She provokes Miss Zula because she likes the excitement.”

Wyeth said, “Sometimes I think they should just have an old-fashioned duel and get it over with.”

“Gunfight at the Ogilvie Corral,” said Tony. “We could tape it.”

“Oh, now, it’s not that bad,” said Win. “They just squabble a little.”

Meg said, “If you ask me, it’s all about unrequited love.”

Rivera’s head jerked up. She had been uncharacteristically quiet, sitting there between Jude and Meg. The problem was that Jude took some finessing at the best of times, and Meg was complicating matters considerably. She was leaning against Rivera’s arm, radiating a combination of satisfaction and smugness that was bound to get on Rivera’s nerves. Angie, who had watched Rivera negotiate her fair share of relationships over the years, could see that her interest and her patience were close to exhausted. Meg might have sensed that herself, because she was working very hard to impress.

“Are you saying Button Ogilvie is a lesbian?” Win asked, looking more amused than shocked.

“Not Button,” Meg said in an aren’t-you-silly voice. “Miss Zula.”

“Meg,” Rivera said in a weary tone. “Shut up.”

“I second that,” said John.

There was a small and very tense silence. “Why would you say that to me?” Meg said finally, blinking hard. “Aren’t I entitled to an opinion?”

“You’re not entitled to spread false rumors,” said Win, his smile gone now. “Maybe you shouldn’t have anything more to drink.”

“Meg, darlin’,” Wyeth said, smacking the table with both palms. “You and I haven’t been out on the dance floor yet tonight.”

She ignored him. Her expression was almost comical, a combination of hurt and irritation. “I think I know more about lesbians than you do, Win Walker. Shouldn’t you be someplace conducting a Bible study or something?”

John said, “Drunk and rude, both. Win, let me buy you another beer.”