I let out a string of words that could have blistered the paint off the woodwork, then checked to make sure I hadn't sprained an ankle or broken anything. If a rotten mouse kept me from my trip, it would be a sorry varmint when I caught him. Everything was fine except for my dignity, so I started up the steps, only to walk into a spiderweb that stuck to my face like superglue. No amount of grabbing at it dislodged that hateful web. In desperation I grabbed the first thing that came to hand, which was an old pillowcase, and wiped the gunk from my face. The grocerystore plastic bags were looking better by the minute. Who needed a suitcase, anyway?

But I was there, so I figured I might as well try to find one. Everything was covered in white canvas, and I could almost hear the theme music from a scary movie playing in my head as I carefully peeked under each tarp. There were lamps, rolltop steamer trunks that would be perfect to house some of my quilts, and gorgeous small tables for the living room, but not a single suitcase.

I was about to give up the search when someone pounded on the front door. It was nearly ten o'clock at night, and no one even came to see me in the daytime, so who on earth would be beating down my door at that hour? I reached for the cord to turn out the light and realized it had broken. I unscrewed the hot bulb by holding the pillowcase in my hand and hurried down the attic steps on tiptoe. I ran through the bedroom, grabbed up a housecoat, and yelled that I was on my way from the top of the stairs.

Billy Lee was on the other side of the door with a big grin on his face. He held up a small suitcase, one of the new ones on wheels with a handle that popped up and down. "I brought over an extra in case you need it."

I unlatched the screen door and opened it. "Come on in."

He took two steps back. "I don't think so. Not at this time of night and with you already in your nightgown. Look across the street. Viola is peeking out her curtain. Probably heard me knocking on the door."

"I really don't care. We aren't teenagers, and you can come inside if you want. Besides, you're over here all the time. Day and night," I said.

"No, really, all kidding aside, I've got to get things ready for the trip."

He left, and I toted the case upstairs. The grapevine would be on fire the next morning. Billy Lee had delivered a suitcase to Trudy. Gossips would be speculating about whether I was packing my things to move back in with Drew. But after that stunt with the car, would he even take me back? And I'd be gone two whole days, so if someone was nosy enough to call, I wouldn't be there to give out answers. I smiled the whole time I folded shirts and jeans-and my two good Sunday dresses in case I needed them.

I slept poorly. I made mental lists of what I'd buy when we stopped at the Galleria. Billy Lee surprised me the next morning when he parked a big dark blue van under the shade tree in the backyard. I didn't know he owned anything other than a rusty old work truck.

I had the door open before he knocked. "Hey, where did that van come from?"

"Keep it in the garage part of my shop building. I customized it to haul eight-foot pieces of lumber so the wood won't get wet if it rains."

I settled into the bucket seat and wrapped the seat belt across me. "I like it. Sits up high."

"Someday when I'm not buying wood, we'll take my car somewhere"

That was the first inkling I had that he owned a car. Life did have its little surprises. What else did Billy Lee have out there in that big old building with its big old garage doors`? My curiosity was piqued, but I didn't want to pry.

"What kind of music do you like?" he asked.

"Country," I said.

"George Strait?"

"Love him."

He put in a CD, and we listened to George for almost an hour. That alone was a treat. When I rode with Crystal, she listened to rock music. I'd learned to tune it out and go deep inside myself to think about other things while she bobbed her head and tapped on the steering wheel. When Drew and I went anywhere, he listened to classical. I treated it the same way and let it flow in one ear and out the other while Drew tapped on the steering wheel and hummed along. The only time I got to listen to country music was when I went anywhere alone.

"What kind of specialty wood are we going after?" I asked, when he took the CD out and handed me the case to pick out another one.

"Aspen"

"What is that?" I flipped through and found an Alan Jackson that I liked and handed it to him.

"It's very expensive and the new in-thing for furniture and cabinets. Got pretty grain in it." He slid the CD into the slot, and Alan started singing "Livin' on Love."

"How expensive?" I tried to ignore the lyrics, but they sank into my soul when Jackson sang that without somebody, nothing ain't worth a dime.

Did I believe that? Yes, I did. But I had Billy Lee, so life was worth more than a dime!

Billy Lee talked above the music. "What I plan to buy today will easily fit in this van and will run about two thousand dollars."

"What in the world are you going to build?"

"This and that. I'd rather talk about you than wood, Trudy. Tell me why you didn't finish college. You were always so smart. I figured you'd be running NASA or the FBI by this time in your life."

"I got married. Actually, I wanted to teach, but Drew wanted a baby right away, and then he wanted me to stay at home and raise her. We didn't need the money, so I did. When she started school, I got a job as a teacher's aide just to keep from dying of boredom, and that's what I've done ever since. Smart as you are, I'm surprised you don't run NASA or at least a Third World country."

"I like what I do and where I live. What would you do differently if you could undo and redo?" he asked.

I thought about that for maybe a mile. "My first thought is that I wouldn't have gotten married at all, but if I hadn't, then I wouldn't have Crystal. I might have been more aware of my surroundings. I don't know. What would you have done differently?"

"Not one thing"

I must have had a quizzical look on my face.

"Anything different might have kept me from being where I am today, and I'm happy to be riding down the road with you."

I smiled. Alan was singing that you couldn't give up on love because that was the thing we had to keep us going.

"You going to answer that comment?" Billy Lee asked.

"I'm sorry. I was listening to the song. If I could go back with the knowledge I have today, I would have spent more time with Gert and less with those who've tossed me away."

He nodded seriously. "I think I might have been a little bolder."

"So we both might have done a few things differently?"

"Maybe, as long as it didn't change the course of this day," he said.

The CD finished, and again he handed me the case. I chose an old George Jones, and we listened to it as we rode. It was eleven o'clock when we walked into Neiman Marcus. The young salesperson only snarled her nose slightly when she looked up at us. She wore her jet-black hair slicked back into a bun at the nape of her neck. Her neat black power suit could have been one of mine if she'd been Dumpster-diving in Murray County, Oklahoma, when Drew cleaned out my closets.

"May I help you?" she asked cautiously.