real nice.”
I’d been enjoying the cool sheet beneath me. Now an unpleasant chill slid all the way up my body. I gave a quick little shiver. “You talked to him?”
His voice grew drowsier and drowsier. “Just for a little while. Mostly about Georgia’s football team. He was at the university when we were, but he and I never—” He slid into sleep.
I lay awake for ages, alternating between worrying about Tad and concocting reasons I could give for leaving town that week.
Neither of us slept well until nearly dawn, then we both slept like dead people until Ridd called at nine. “Tad’s still not back. Martha’s got to work, but I’m going out looking for him and leaving Bethany here in case he comes home. One of Walker’s associates is coming, too, to assess the damage. Can you all eat on your own?” We usually went to their house for Sunday dinner.
“We were eating on our own before you were born,” I reminded him. “We’ll go out somewhere.” Joe Riddley was still snoring beside me. He hadn’t even heard the phone. I hung up and closed my eyes, promising myself I’d snooze just one more minute. When I woke again, we barely had time to dress and sling the Sunday paper into the living room on our way to church.
In the narthex, a friend greeted me. “That was a good picture in the paper, Mac.”
“Thanks,” I told her. “We were all having a great time.” Of course, she was a little late with her compliments. It had been a couple of weeks since I’d been in the Statesman with a bunch of middle-school kids who were conducting a mock magistrate’s court.
The woman gave me an odd look and walked away.
Joe Riddley and I took our usual pew, with him on the center aisle. A lot of people turned around to look at us. They must have heard about the fire and wanted us to know they were sympathetic. It wasn’t our barn anymore, but it had been for thirty-five years.
I was checking my bulletin to see what the first hymn would be when I heard a light wave of whispers coming from the back. About the time it slapped the back of my neck, I heard Joe Riddley offer, “Why don’t you join us? There’s plenty of room.”
I looked up to see Burlin Bullock hesitating by our pew. I wished he were somewhere else—Outer Mongolia, for example—but figured the two of them couldn’t come to much harm in church, so I slid down. I took Joe Riddley’s arm to pull him after me, though, so Burlin had to sit on the aisle.
That was the most restless service I’ve ever attended. Maybe Burlin was used to it, being in politics all his life, but I was distracted by all that whispering and craning of necks toward our pew. In addition to praying for Tad, I added a special prayer of thanksgiving: “Thank you, Lord, for saving me from life in the political fishbowl.”
I was scared to death Joe Riddley would ask Burlin to join us for dinner and relieved when Burlin turned to Joe Riddley during the last hymn, shook his hand, and slipped out before the benediction. He had ignored me the whole service, for which I was grateful.
A lot of folks craned their necks to get a glimpse of the famous man as he left. We don’t often get worshipers who’ve appeared on national TV.
Celebrity dust must have rubbed off on us, because when Joe Riddley and I came through the doors and started down the church steps, everybody down on the sidewalk stopped talking and stood looking up at us. When they saw we’d noticed, they quickly turned away.
We stopped by the house on our way to the restaurant. My feet were still sore from the day before, and I wanted to put on some everyday shoes.
As soon as we got in the door, Joe Riddley called Ridd’s—with me standing at his elbow so I could hear. Bethany said they still hadn’t heard from Tad, but added, “Mama told Daddy that if Tad hasn’t come home by night tonight, we have to call Uncle Walker and Aunt Cindy. They may have some idea where he would have gone.”
I was ready to
I’d been enjoying the cool sheet beneath me. Now an unpleasant chill slid all the way up my body. I gave a quick little shiver. “You talked to him?”
His voice grew drowsier and drowsier. “Just for a little while. Mostly about Georgia’s football team. He was at the university when we were, but he and I never—” He slid into sleep.
I lay awake for ages, alternating between worrying about Tad and concocting reasons I could give for leaving town that week.
Neither of us slept well until nearly dawn, then we both slept like dead people until Ridd called at nine. “Tad’s still not back. Martha’s got to work, but I’m going out looking for him and leaving Bethany here in case he comes home. One of Walker’s associates is coming, too, to assess the damage. Can you all eat on your own?” We usually went to their house for Sunday dinner.
“We were eating on our own before you were born,” I reminded him. “We’ll go out somewhere.” Joe Riddley was still snoring beside me. He hadn’t even heard the phone. I hung up and closed my eyes, promising myself I’d snooze just one more minute. When I woke again, we barely had time to dress and sling the Sunday paper into the living room on our way to church.
In the narthex, a friend greeted me. “That was a good picture in the paper, Mac.”
“Thanks,” I told her. “We were all having a great time.” Of course, she was a little late with her compliments. It had been a couple of weeks since I’d been in the Statesman with a bunch of middle-school kids who were conducting a mock magistrate’s court.
The woman gave me an odd look and walked away.
Joe Riddley and I took our usual pew, with him on the center aisle. A lot of people turned around to look at us. They must have heard about the fire and wanted us to know they were sympathetic. It wasn’t our barn anymore, but it had been for thirty-five years.
I was checking my bulletin to see what the first hymn would be when I heard a light wave of whispers coming from the back. About the time it slapped the back of my neck, I heard Joe Riddley offer, “Why don’t you join us? There’s plenty of room.”
I looked up to see Burlin Bullock hesitating by our pew. I wished he were somewhere else—Outer Mongolia, for example—but figured the two of them couldn’t come to much harm in church, so I slid down. I took Joe Riddley’s arm to pull him after me, though, so Burlin had to sit on the aisle.
That was the most restless service I’ve ever attended. Maybe Burlin was used to it, being in politics all his life, but I was distracted by all that whispering and craning of necks toward our pew. In addition to praying for Tad, I added a special prayer of thanksgiving: “Thank you, Lord, for saving me from life in the political fishbowl.”
I was scared to death Joe Riddley would ask Burlin to join us for dinner and relieved when Burlin turned to Joe Riddley during the last hymn, shook his hand, and slipped out before the benediction. He had ignored me the whole service, for which I was grateful.
A lot of folks craned their necks to get a glimpse of the famous man as he left. We don’t often get worshipers who’ve appeared on national TV.
Celebrity dust must have rubbed off on us, because when Joe Riddley and I came through the doors and started down the church steps, everybody down on the sidewalk stopped talking and stood looking up at us. When they saw we’d noticed, they quickly turned away.
We stopped by the house on our way to the restaurant. My feet were still sore from the day before, and I wanted to put on some everyday shoes.
As soon as we got in the door, Joe Riddley called Ridd’s—with me standing at his elbow so I could hear. Bethany said they still hadn’t heard from Tad, but added, “Mama told Daddy that if Tad hasn’t come home by night tonight, we have to call Uncle Walker and Aunt Cindy. They may have some idea where he would have gone.”
I was ready to
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