Miss Julia Paints the Town by Ann B. Ross Page A

day?
    â€œNo,” I said aloud as I pulled into our drive, “I will not ask him. I will not demand answers. I will not let him know that anything’s amiss. But I will give him full opportunity to explain himself.”
    Then as I removed the key from the ignition, I smiled, thinking, This is a test. If he voluntarily tells me of his day, leaving nothing out, then that’s one thing. But if he doesn’t, then that’s certainly another. My mouth turned from smiling to a tight line of determination, and I went inside.
    Lillian started grumbling as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. “Everybody runnin’ ’round like chickens with they head cut off. I got my supper ready and jus’ look. Nobody here to eat it.”
    â€œWhere’re Hazel Marie and Lloyd?”
    â€œThey upstairs. I already call ’em, but they slow comin’ down. An’ Mr. Sam not here, an’ you go runnin’ off, an’ I had to put my beans back on the stove to keep ’em warm.”
    Just then, Hazel Marie stuck her head in and said, “Sorry, Lillian, but Lloyd only had a closing paragraph to do. We’re at the table now.”
    I followed her into the dining room and took my place at the table, patting Lloyd’s head as I passed him. When Hazel Marie seated herself, Sam’s empty place screamed for attention.
    â€œWhere’s Mr. Sam?” Lloyd asked.
    â€œI’m sure I don’t know,” I said, complacently, as if his absence was nothing to me. I nodded to Lillian as she brought in dishes and set them on the table. “Will you return thanks, Lloyd?”
    We bowed our heads in prayer, but my mind wasn’t on the giving of thanks, but rather on the pleading of a wounded heart.
    Then we heard a car door slam and soon after, Sam came through the back door. My heart lifted. At least he wasn’t spending the night at Helen’s.
    â€œHello, everybody,” he said, looking as normal as he always did, giving no indication that he’d been engaged in any wickedness whatsoever. Some people are like that. They can do the most underhanded things imaginable and still appear as innocent as a newborn. He took his place at the head of the table, giving me a wink as he smiled at us all. “Sorry I’m late. I got held up longer than I expected. How was your day, Lloyd?”
    The boy passed Sam the mashed potatoes. “Pretty good, now. One more week of school and I just finished my last paper. At least I hope I have. I was playing tennis this afternoon, and it just hit me that I’d done the bibliography wrong. So I had to go through it again and fix it.”
    â€œThat’s what you call an epiphany,” Sam said, nodding in approval. “Glad you had one before you turned in your paper. Hazel Marie, what’s going on with you?”
    Hazel Marie was looking a little bewildered, what with all the unfamiliar words being tossed around. But she perked up at Sam’s question. “Oh, this has been a day and a half for us,” she said. “Miss Julia and I have been at Mildred’s most of the day, and they still haven’t found Horace. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard. I didn’t know that somebody could just disappear.”
    â€œEverybody’s talking about it downtown, too,” Sam said. “I had lunch at the Bluebird Cafe, and if it wasn’t Horace they were talking about, it was Assured Estate Planners.” Sam shook his head. “Maybe it’s a good thing Stroud isn’t around. Some people’re mad enough to string him up.”
    Hearing the Stroud name, I lifted my head in anticipation of what he might say about Helen. But he made no mention of her, which was suspicious to me, in and of itself. He went right on talking and mostly listening to Hazel Marie, who was telling him about wanting Mildred to hire Mr. Pickens and about Tonya on her way home and about Mildred’s migraine