Haywood laughed and told Isabel he believed he could eat just another small slice of that coconut pie if she’d cut him off one.
Out in the kitchen, Jane Ann set the remains of a pork roast on the kitchen counter. “Come for a ride?” she asked her brother. She slid soiled tableware into the dishwasher basket. “It’s been ages since you and I took the horses out together.”
“Sorry, kid, I really did tell Eric I’d pick him up before two. Maybe next time.”
“Sure,” she said, trying not to whine.
A CD she’d borrowed from Annie Sue lay on the counter where she’d left it when they came home last night. Drops of water had splashed on the cover, and she carefully blotted them away with a paper towel, then set it atop the refrigerator out of harm’s way.
“It’s just that I never get to see you alone. Now that you’re at Carolina, you’re gone most of the time. And when you do come home, you’re either hanging out with Gayle or your friends. It’s like the older you get, the less I see of you. Like you’re not part of the family anymore.”
“You and I spent the whole morning together,” Stevie protested.
“In church? Here with Mom and Dad? I don’t count that being together.” She went back to putting away the leftovers.
“Well, what about yesterday? You were at the carnival with your friends all day while I was out here alone with the ironing board and washer.” Stevie held the refrigerator door open for her. “Things change.”
He grinned and draped a dishtowel over her head. “But you’re always going to be my doofus sister, no matter how old I get.”
Jane Ann crumpled the towel into a ball and aimed it at his head; he ducked and caught it just before it hit his tea glass on the counter.
“Good hands,” she said. “I still wish you’d come riding, though.”
“I wish to hell I could, too, kid.” He sounded so sincerely regretful that she was mollified.
“Well, don’t let it wreck your life. Actually, I’ve got homework myself. Two more acts of Shakespeare to read.”
“Miss Barnes’s class?”
“Yeah, and she expects us to know the meaning of every single word.”
“I know. I had her, too, remember?”
Twenty minutes later, Stevie was helping Eric throw his duffel bag in the back of the Jeep.
“This is crazy, you know that, don’t you?” he said when they were on the road and heading east, not north toward Shaw in Raleigh.
“When else’ll we have this chance?” Eric said logically. “Sunday afternoon? The place should be deserted. You don’t think it’s fair Lamarr should get cheated out of what’s rightfully his, do you?”
“No, but—”
“Besides,” he argued, “if we get caught and you’re with us, Deb’rah and Mr. Dwight won’t let them do anything to us.”
“Don’t count on it,” Stevie said darkly. “She let A.K. sit in jail three weekends last summer, remember?”
Brad Needham sighed and clicked off the television. Hard to concentrate on anything under the circumstances, and while he enjoyed watching public television (or enjoyed the idea of watching it), lap quilting and cooking shows just weren’t doing it for him this afternoon.
On the floral couch where she had been drifting in and out of sleep since lunchtime, Janice roused herself with a yawn. “I was watching that, Bradley.”
“Sorry.” He clicked it back on.
“You coming down with something, hon?”
“No, why?”
“I don’t know. Ever since we got back, you’ve been sort of blue. And like your mind’s elsewhere.” She looked up into his dark brown eyes. “You’re not worried about work or anything, are you?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” he said, gratefully seizing on her suggestion. “In fact, I was thinking about running over to the office to work on my report for a couple of hours.”
He took his stockinged feet off the pale blue velvet has sock that matched his pale blue velvet lounge chair and slipped on the sneakers that were neatly tucked beside the chair.
“Oh, hon!” She sat up in protest. “Can’t you do it here? I thought you finished that thing before we left California.”
“I did. But there are a couple of facts I want to check before I print it out—some data I need to get off the mainframe—and you know me. I won’t rest easy till I get it done.”
Janice smiled at him indulgently as he stood and hitched up the jeans he always wore for Sunday chores. “Oh, you! Always worrying about one more detail that needs doing.”
