She wiped at the tears and narrowed her eyes at me. "Why do you tell me things like that? Who are you? I thought you were my daughter, but she's dead. She and Gert died together. Oh, Crystal will be so sad. Excuse me; I have to go lie down. This is too much for me right now. Does Drew know?"

"I'll take her to her room, Miss Trudy. You might as well go on. Maybe tomorrow will be better," Lessie said.

It was dark when I got home. Billy Lee was in his shop. I knew because I could see the light out there. What was he doing? There wasn't a sign hanging on the hedge that prohibited trespassing, and he was the one who'd made himself indispensable at my house, so I could go over there if I wanted. Nothing jumped out of the twilight and attacked me when I stepped through the hedge. Sweat dripped off my jawbone and beaded up under my nose. My hands were clammy as I slipped inside the building. The Harley was still in the same place. The room where my bedroom set had been was now empty, but there were four other doors.

Leave me alone in a room, and I'm instantly curious about what's in the drawers or behind doors. Momma trained me early in life that it was bad manners to go prowling around in other folks' belongings, but it didn't keep me from wanting to slip my hand into the pocket of that coat lying on the bed or take a quick peek inside the bathroom vanity drawer. It was an exercise in willpower that had gotten only slightly easier as I got older.

Perhaps if she'd let me prowl around more, I would've caught Drew in those first years of our marriage. Not that I was blaming it on Momma. Who knows what kind of person I would have become if I'd been given carte blanche when it came to snooping?

Which door did I take? The noise had died down, leaving me with doors number one, two, three, or four. Did he keep tigers and lions behind door number one? I eased it open, only to find the beginnings of a headboard, one of those tall, antique cannonball replicas. I could see it in Aunt Gert's old bedroom, which was to be my guest room.

"Hey," he said.

He was close enough behind me that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. I jumped as if I'd been caught snooping in a dresser drawer.

Scarlet crept into my cheeks. "I was bored"

He pointed at the starting of the cannonball bed. "You like it?"

"It's beautiful."

"Thought it might look good in your spare bedroom. Maybe with a nightstand and a little vanity dresser with a round mirror. Not many folks come to stay very long, so you wouldn't need a lot of drawer space in that room. You mentioned liking cannonball beds when we were in Jefferson." He looked at me.

The town flashed before my eyes, but the shy kiss on my cheek after the trip made me touch my cheek.

He went on. "So, you're bored. Want to help me work on the built-ins for the new office? I could use another set of hands."

"I would love to help you. I'm completely ignorant of anything mechanical or electrical, but I'll do whatever you can teach me" I followed him through door number one.

"Can you hold a sander and keep it going with the grain of the wood? This is the first room I work in. This is a table saw. That's a planer. Over there is a jointer. It gets the wood cut into pieces and ready for the next room. Here, put on this mask. You don't want a sinus attack because you breathed in too much dust." He handed me a white paper mask, and I slipped it over my nose and mouth.

He handed me a sander, told me to sit on a bench in front of a workstation, and gave me a five-second lesson. Not a single piece of gym equipment could give the arms a workout like that sander did. It took a while before I convinced it I was the boss, but after that we got along fairly well. When Billy Lee was ready to call it a night, I'd sanded several pieces of wood-some short, some narrow, some long, some wide. I didn't know how it would all fit together, but Billy Lee was the magician. I barely qualified to be in the show.

He inspected my work. "You did a good job. I'll hire you to work any evening you want to come out here"

"Hire me. I'm just privileged to learn from the master. I should be paying you."

He grinned.

I pulled off the mask and laid it aside. "You are a genius with wood. Where all have you sold your work?"

"Far and near," he said.

"Okay, details. Where is the most impressive place one of your pieces of furniture sits right now?"

"Your bedroom"

"I'm serious."

"Okay. I made a dining room table to seat twenty and chairs to match for the governor's mansion in Oklahoma City," he said.

"I'm surprised it's not in the White House. If the president ever comes to visit Oklahoma and sees it, I'm sure he'll order one. Want a glass of iced tea? There's a pitcher already made in the refrigerator."

"No, I think I just want a long bath and a good night's sleep," he said.

"Well, then, good night," I said.

"Good night, Trudy," he said softly.

I thought of him taking a long bath while I did the same. And even though I was literally tired to the bone, both mentally and physically, it took a very long time before I went to sleep.

Awarm breeze rattled the wind chimes and added to the chorus of crickets and tree frogs. I wasn't complaining. It was the last week of July, and we had a breeze, even if it was a hot one.

The outside of the house was painted a buttery yellow. With the white gingerbread trim and new windows, it looked like a Thomas Kincaid picture. Billy Lee had made and hung a new porch swing on the east wing of the porch, back in the shadows of a mimosa tree. I enjoyed the swaying motion with my left knee drawn up and my right foot hanging close enough to the porch floor that I could push off and keep the swing moving.

The sun had fallen behind the treetops, and the last light of day filtered through summer leaves in fading rays. I loved sunsets and sunrises more and more, especially when doubts crept up. Most days I could keep them at bay; on others it was like being at the starting gate at a horse race.

One moment the doubts were behind bars, the next they were running full speed ahead. That night I worried. How many more sunsets would I enjoy before I was diagnosed with Alzheimer's? Would I be in the nursing home when I was sixty-five years old? Billy Lee had said that we'd cross that bridge if we ever came to it, but he was my dearest friend; I could never burden him.

Then there were those other two more pressing matters. Number one: whether or not to go back to work in two weeks. If I was going to quit my job as a teacher's aide, then I should resign in time for the school administration to find a replacement. I thought about the pros and cons. I didn't need the money, and we weren't finished remodeling. Lately I'd been going out to the shop with Billy Lee in the evenings and working until dark. The equipment and all that power terrified me. I didn't even like the sander. But I enjoyed finish work, staining especially. Billy Lee used a spray gun to apply the sanding sealer and coats of varnish, but staining was done by hand using a paintbrush and wiping rags. I loved the way the grain popped right out, every knothole and swirl coming to life when color was applied.

I pushed off with my foot again and contemplated going inside where it was cool. When I'd first moved into the house, I could hardly wait for the air-conditioning to be installed. And here I was sitting out in the hot night air, sweat beading up under my lip and on the back of my neck, trying to think my way out of my problems.