Desert Heat

“Well,” Eva Lou said, ignoring her husband’s caution. “Are you hungry?”

“I am,” Je

Joa

With her suitcase in hand and still carrying the precious plastic bag holding only pitiful reminders of the man who had owned its con-tents, Joa

There she clambered into the old-fashioned, claw-footed tub with its make-do shower and turned on the water full blast. She stood under the water for a long, long time, letting the steamy spray mingle with the tears on her face while the roar in the pipes muffled the sound of her sobs. Usually, Joa

She toweled herself off and felt a surprising rush of gratitude that she was doing so in the familiar surroundings of her own bathroom in her own home. At least that part of her life was the same, and it would continue to be so. In Tucson, at the hospital, she had focused to-tally on dealing with the immediate problem of paying the hospital bill, but now she realized that through the insurance she owned, life insurance on both of them which Milo Davis had encouraged them to buy and helped them keep, she and Je

Hastily pushing that thought aside, she tied the belt on her robe and emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her wet hair. In her absence, both Eleanor Lathrop and Maria

Hollow-eyed, Je

“So when the doctor came back out,” she was saying, “I left Margaret sitting there watching television and went over to ask him how Andy was. I mean, Joa

Jim Bob Brady nodded solemnly and patted his wife’s hand while she wept quietly into a hanky. Je

“Sounds like everybody did just about everything they could do,” Jim Bob observed. “Some things can’t be helped, now can they.”

Looking from one face to the other, he happened to glance up and see Joa

She wasn’t all right. In fact, she was furious. She hadn’t wanted Je

“I’m okay,” Joa

The old man hurriedly started to rise to his feet. “We can get out of your way and head on into town right now if you like,” he said.

“No. Don’t rush off. We need to talk, all of us.” She glanced at Maria

“I skipped out,” Maria

Joa

Reverend Maculyea shook her head dubiously. “That may be too soon, what with the autopsy and…”

“Autopsy?” Eva Lou echoed in dismay. “Do you mean to tell me that they’re doing an autopsy on my boy? Why on earth would they need one of those?”

“They’re routine, Mrs. Brady,” Maria

Eva Lou Brady remained unconvinced. “I don’t care what they call them,” she insisted. “From what I’ve heard, everybody knows Andy died of a gunshot wound. I don’t see any good reason for them to go cutting him up that way, no reason at all.”

“Can we do it Saturday at the church?” Joa

Maria

“Will I be able to come?” Je

“You’ll be there,” Joa

For the next two hours or so, the five adults huddled over the dining room table, choosing music and scripture passages, selecting people to give eulogies and to serve as pallbearers. It was a painful but necessary process. With every small decision, Joa

By nine, suffering from emotional overload, Je

“Where’d that come from?” Joa

“I’m not naming any names,” the pastor returned, “but one of my most faithful parishioners gives Jeff and me one of these every Christmas whether we need it or not. And don’t think I’m not grateful. I could never afford to buy this stuff on my salary. We save it for special occasions, and this seems special to me. I figure if anyone ever needed a drink, you do tonight. Here.”

Maria

Joa

“How do I go on?” she asked. “How do people do it?”

Maria