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"Ruby Bee's taking a nap," she whispered, gesturing for them to come inside.

Cherri Lucinda held out a paper bag. "The best we could find was a Git 'N Go. One of the sandwiches is tuna salad, the other roast beef. We got you some chips and a couple of candy bars, too. Your change is in the bottom."

"This is real thoughtful of you," said Estelle.

Stormy leaned against the door, her duffel bag in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. "Can I ask a favor? Cherri Lucinda here said that you offered to do her hair. I've been thinking for a long time that I need a new look. As long as we're stuck here for the evening, would you consider doing something with mine?"

"You're making a big mistake," Cherri Lucinda said as she resumed examining herself in the mirror. "Don't come crying to me when you see what you've done."

"Well?" Stormy said to Estelle. "It beats sitting around listening to gunfire."

Estelle felt like she'd been cornered by a pit bull. This particular pit bull was six inches shorter and most likely thirty years younger, but her eyes had a disturbing gleam and it was hard to guess how she'd react if she didn't get her way. Estelle nodded and said, "I suppose I can give it a try, even though I'm used to my own equipment. What do you want?"

"To be a brunette, for starters," Stormy said as she dumped the contents of the plastic bag on the seat of the chair. "I'll take care of that while you eat, and you can cut my hair afterward."

"You'll be sorry," said Cherri Lucinda, her face inches from the mirror as she explored a blemish on her chin.

Stormy picked up a box with the depiction of a radiant brunette. "So will you if you don't shut up. You should know that when I make up my mind to do something, I do it no matter what. Remember when I told you that I was going to knock the crap out of that bouncer if he touched my tit one more time? I'll bet he does."

She went into the bathroom, and seconds later water began to run in the sink. Estelle took out the sandwiches and put them on the bedside table as Ruby Bee woke up and made a selection. "How long have you and Stormy been friends?" she asked Cherri Lucinda.

"Couple of months. Do you honestly think my face is plump?"

"Only in a fetching sort of way. You remind me of one of those actresses who always ends up with the handsome hero," Estelle said tactfully. "Maybe that's why you look kind of familiar. Did you work at Kmart before you became an entertainer?"

"I've worked a lot of places." Cherri Lucinda dangled some curls across her forehead. "So what do you think? Does it make me look like a chipmunk?"

Estelle was casting around for a way to soften her answer when there was a knock on the door. She took a quick peek through the blinds, then opened the door and let Rex Malanac inside. "I suppose you want your hair cut, too," she said irritably. "If I had this much business back home, I'd have hired a limo to take me to Memphis."

In spite of the fact it was dark outside, he was still wearing sunglasses and the canvas hat. "I did not realize I was interrupting what used to be called a hen party when I was in college. I'm in need of some change to use the pay telephone at the corner. I went to the office, but it's locked and the lights are off."

"Can't a college professor figure out how to use the phone in a motel room?" said Cherri Lucinda, making it clear she hadn't forgotten the exchange in the van.

"One cannot make long-distance calls on the room phones," he said. "No doubt the owners of this establishment have been stiffed on many occasions. Is she"-he pointed at the supine form on the bed-"ill or in some sort of distress?"

Ruby Bee's voice was muffled but her tone was unmistakable. "The only thing causing me distress is the procession through this room. You'd think this was one of the rooms in Graceland, what with everybody traipsing in and out like a herd of tourists. I'm surprised I haven't heard cameras clicking."

Estelle took her wallet out of her purse and poured coins onto the corner of the bed. "How much change do you need? I've got what looks to be three dollars' worth."

"That will have to suffice," he said.

Stormy came out of the bathroom, her hair obscured by a terrycloth turban. "What's going on? Are we gonna play poker or something?"

Cherri Lucinda rolled her eyes. "Now there's a swell idea. I'm sure the professor here is a big fan of strip poker. He's probably hoping you'll lose so he can see that butterfly of yours. Ain't that right, Rex?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he said.

Stormy put her hands on her hips. "I'll drop my pants if you'll drop yours."

Ruby Bee groaned loudly. "What does a body have to do to get some peace and quiet around here?"

"Come on, Rex," continued Stormy. "Let's have a little game of show-and-tell."

Cherri Lucinda began to play with the top button of her jeans. "Hey, I've got a mole on my thigh. Can I play, too?"

Estelle stood up. "Cut this out, and I mean it. You all are acting worse than a third-grade Sunday school class. Nobody is taking off anything in this room. Now you either behave or march yourselves right out the door. Go squabble in the parking lot and try not to get yourselves shot."

Stormy's hands fell to her sides. "It was just a joke. Are you still willing to cut my hair?"

Cherri Lucinda looked at Rex. "Do you think my face is plump?"

He smiled. "No one would accuse you of being emaciated, but you are hardly Rubenesque."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"This is craziness?" said a muffled voice.

Estelle had to agree with that.

4

"Watta You want?" asked Dahlia as she opened the front door. Her puckery frown made me feel as welcome as a bout of the flu.

"I dropped by to see how the babies are doing," I said, frantically trying to remember their names. It had been a tempestuous topic at the bar-they were Buchanons, after all-but most of it had rolled right past me. "Ruby Bee's been telling me how cute they are."

"They're sleeping, and the last thing you wanna do with twins is wake ' em up. I wouldn't so much as tickle their toes if Armageddon commenced to begin across the road."

I reminded myself of my promise to Kevin and nodded sympathetically. "What if I take a quick peek from the bedroom doorway? I'd love to see them, Dahlia."

"All right," she said as she gestured for me to come inside. "But just for a second and keep your voice low. Rose Marie wakes up ever'time a dog barks in the next county. When she starts howling, Kevvie Junior does, too. It's all I kin do not to join right in."

I tiptoed to the bedroom door, ascertained that there was a blanket-clad bundle in each crib, and eased the door closed. "I sure could use a cup of coffee before I go," I said, "but if you're busy with something else…?"

Dahlia shrugged and headed for the kitchen. "I don't reckon I've got time to learn how to do brain surgery afore lunchtime. There's still coffee in the pot from breakfast. Sit there at the dinette and I'll fetch some for you."

I did as ordered. Dirty dishes were piled beside the sink, and an empty milk carton lay on the floor next to an overflowing trash can. Keeping my hands off the tabletop to avoid contact with what appeared to be petrified grape jelly, I said, "How old are they?"

"Eight weeks, give or take." She took a cup from a cabinet, then set it down and turned around. "What do you really want, Arly?"

What I really wanted was to leave, but I smiled and said, "To see the babies and have a cup of coffee. I should have come by as soon as you came home from the hospital, but I figured you were too busy for visitors."

"That didn't matter to anybody else. After three days, I told Kevin to get his pa's shotgun and stand out on the porch in case the County Extension Club pulled up in a chartered bus. You and Raz must be the only two folks that didn't come calling-not that I'd let him get within spittin' distance of the babies, ornery ol' sumbitch that he is. Ever'time I see him riding around town with that sow in the front seat, it's all I can do not to start throwing rocks."