“People keep asking me that,” John said. “I don’t get it. Why shouldn’t I want to be here? I’ve got family and friends in Ogilvie, I like the town, and I love the college. I think I can do some good things for this department. I like the students.”

“And there’s Caroline.” Miss Zula wasn’t smiling.

“And there’s Caroline,” John agreed. “I’m thirty-six, you know. It’s about time I settled down.”

“You sound like Patty-Cake Walker,” Miss Zula said. “Life isn’t a cake recipe, John. Following the rules somebody else sets out for you won’t get you any prizes.”

“Why, Miss Zula,” John said, grinning. “You know I’m not about to pay Patty-Cake any mind, not with you close by to advise me.”

She flapped her handkerchief at him, but there was a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t talk nonsense. Now, what are you going to tell Bubba about his anniversary party?”

John considered. He had one card left to play, and his time was limited.

He said, “I’ll tell him you’re not willing to take part, but I hope you’ll reconsider. A fiftieth anniversary shouldn’t be ignored, Miss Zula. It would be rude.”

Her chin trembled, and then something surprising happened: she giggled. Miss Zula giggled like a young girl, and then she laughed.

“You just cost me five dollars, John Grant. Maddie was right, and I was wrong.” She slapped her knee and bent forward, her shoulders shaking. She took out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and Louie sat up straight and wagged his tail.

“Give Bubba what he wants, then. They can put my name up on their poster if it means so much to them.”

John held himself very still. “You mean it?”

She gave him a severe look. “I never say a thing I don’t mean, you know that. Now, if you had spouted a lot of nonsense about doing the right thing for this old pile of bricks”—she gestured around herself—“then I would have said no, and I would have meant that, you can count on it. I’m not an old table to be auctioned off to the curious. But you didn’t trot out those sorry excuses. Rude.” She laughed again.

John said, “I have this feeling there’s another shoe about to drop, directly on my head.”

“Perceptive as always.” She put her handkerchief away and settled her hands on the head of the cane again. “Let me be clear. I will give a reading, as requested. I will attend the ceremony and the dinner and even the reception—”

“But you don’t want the documentary.”

She fixed him with her most severe stare.

“Pardon me,” he said. “I interrupted.”

“You most certainly did. All those years among the Yankees has had a detrimental effect on your manners, John. I did warn your mama.”

“I am sincerely sorry.”