After Jeff and Marianne brought their adopted twins home from mainland China, Dr. Lee had become Esther’s primary physician. In the process of caring for the seriously ill child, he had become a close friend-an uncle almost- to the rest of the family. In order to help Ruth stay connected to her roots, he was teaching the family to speak two separate Chinese dialects. He was also helping turn Jeff Daniels into a passable expert in home-cooked Chinese cuisine.
“Well,” Joanna said, “that’s a relief. I’m surprised he didn’t insist on you seeing him long before this.”
“I didn’t tell him,” Marianne said, smiling wanly. “But I thought you’d be glad to hear that I was taking some of your advice, and not just about seeing the doctor, either. I was supposed to do housework today, but I’ve spent most of the morning working on the Thanksgiving sermon.”
The parsonage’s once pristine living room was a shambles. Toys, books, and papers were scattered everywhere. The couch was almost invisible beneath a mound of unfolded laundry. On the floor, smack in the middle of the debris field, lay Ruth and Jenny. Frowning in concentration, the two girls were building a structure out of a set of pre-school-sized Legos. Joanna and Marianne picked their way through the mess as far as the couch. There they took seats on opposite ends of the couch and heaped the clothing into an even higher mound between them. Once seated and without a word of discussion, they both began folding clothes.
“If you’re working on a Thanksgiving sermon,” Joanna said, “that must mean you plan to stick around long enough to deliver it. What’s the title?”
“‘Stop Digging’.”
“ ‘Stop Digging’,” Joanna repeated. “What does that mean?”
“You should know,” Marianne said. “You’re the one who told me to talk about the black hole. To stop digging is the first rule for getting out of holes.”
“You really are taking my advice.”
Marianne smiled. “I told you,” she said. Glancing at her watch, she frowned. “What’s Jenny doing out of school so early? She’s not sick, is she?”
“She’s been suspended,” Joanna replied matter-of-factly. “For fighting. Have you read today’s newspaper?”
“The
“Do you happen to have a copy?”
“It’s probably still in the box down by the street. I’ll go get it.”
“No,” Joanna said. “Let Jenny.”
Minutes later, Joanna unfolded the paper, opened it to the page containing Marliss Shackleford’s
A reliable but unnamed source tells us that Cochise County Sheriff Joanna Brady, a widow, will soon tie the knot with Bisbee newcomer Frederick W. Dixon. Dixon, a former tavern owner, is currently unemployed.
“That witch!” Joanna exclaimed, carefully choosing one word over another because of the listening children playing on the floor. “How dare she say he’s unemployed. Butch spends at least four hours every morning working on his book, and he looks after Jenny every afternoon after school. Not only that, he’s spent the better part of the last three days taking care of Junior.”
“Who’s Junior?” Marianne asked. “You didn’t adopt another dog or horse, did you?”
Briefly Joanna brought Marianne up-to-date on the Junior dilemma.
“And who’s the unnamed source?” Marianne asked, looking at the newspaper column again when Joanna had finished telling the Junior story. “Your mother, I presume?”
Marianne and Joanna’s friendship-a relationship that dated all the way back to junior high-held very few surprises for either of them.
“You guessed it,” Joanna said. “And that’s why Jenny got in a fight at school today. Some of the boys were teasing her about my getting married. She didn’t think it was true because I hadn’t gotten around to telling her.”
Marianne smiled a genuine smile then. “Naturally she beat them up. Given that kind of provocation, I probably would have, too. So it is true then? You and Butch really are getting married?”
“He asked me yesterday,” Joanna replied, “and I said yes.”
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. That’s one of the two things I came by to discuss you. If you’re going to quit the ministry, you can’t do it [t least after the wedding.”
“Which is when?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t had a chance to talk about that yet. I’ve been too busy.”
“And the other thing we need to discuss?” Marianne asked.
“Marliss Shackleford. How do I keep from killing her the next time I see her?”
Marianne glanced toward the children. Jenny and Ruth teemed totally engrossed in their building project, but Marianne knew better than to trust to appearances. “Maybe we’d better go into the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”
An hour later, feeling as though an interior pressure valve had been released, Joanna packed up Jenny and headed home. “We’d better stop by Butch’s house and let him know you won’t be there after school today.”
But Butch Dixon wasn’t home. Parked in the Outback’s spot in his carport was a decrepit bronze Honda.
“Hey, look,” Jenny crowed in delight. “The Gs are here. Grandpa’s still in the car.”
The Gs were Jenny’s paternal grandparents, Jim Bob and Eva Lou Brady. For two cents, once Joanna spotted the car, she would have kept right on driving. The possibility of her remarrying was something she had long avoided discussing with her former in-laws. Unfortunately, by the time Joanna saw the Honda, Jim Bob had seen the Blazer as well. He was already climbing out of his car.
“What’s the matter?” Jenny asked, glancing at her mother’s face. “Aren’t you glad to see Grandpa Jim Bob?”
“I’m glad all right,” Joanna said, but her voice didn’t sound the least bit convincing.
As soon as the Blazer stopped, Jenny shot out of the passenger seat. Jim Bob caught her, scooped her into his arms, and swung her high in the air.
“There’s my girl,” he said. “How’s tricks?”
“I got suspended from school,” Jenny replied at once. “For three whole days. I can’t go back clear until Wednesday.”
“Suspended, eh?” Jim Bob said. “Maybe you’d better come home with me tonight. That way you can tell Grandma and me all about it.”
“Can I go, Mom?” Jenny begged. “Can I, please?”
“May I,” Joanna corrected automatically. “And yes, I suppose you may.”
“And should I tell them about you-know-what?”
While Joanna sent her daughter a withering look, Jim Bob looked questioningly from Jenny to her mother. “Tell us what?” he asked.
“Butch and Mom are going to get married,” Jenny blurted. “Marliss Shackleford said so in the paper.”
Jim Bob Brady waved one hand as if swatting at a pesky fly. “Oh, that,” he said. “All I can say is, it’s high time.”
And that was all there was to it. Joanna had gone to great lengths to avoid telling Jim Bob and Eva Lou Brady that there was a new man in her life, someone who wasn’t their son. And yet, here was Jim Bob accepting the news at face value and giving every indication that not only did he approve but also that he couldn’t see why it had taken Joanna so long to make up her mind. He seemed to accept her decision with the same kind of aplomb Jenny had.
Joanna swallowed hard. “You and Eva Lou don’t mind then?”
Jim Bob put Jenny down and then gathered Joanna into his arms. “Of course we don’t mind, honey bun. Why would we? When Andy was alive, you were the very best wife a man could ask for, but he’s gone now. You have the whole rest of your life ahead of you, Joanna. You’re young and bright and you deserve some happiness. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”
