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Mimi returned to the rocking chair with Janell Cannon’s beautifully illustrated book Stellaluna.

Lily cuddled her daughter on her lap, opened the book, and began to read.

Stellaluna was the story of a baby fruit bat who gets separated from her mother and so is raised, for a time, by a family of birds. The birds are kind to Stellaluna as long as she exhibits birdlike behavior.

She is not allowed to fly at night or hang upside down, and she is fed insects instead of the mangoes she loves. While Stellaluna appreciates the birds’ kindness, she is only happy when she is reunited with her fruit bat family.

Lily’s eyes filled as she read the book to Mimi. It was amazing how a simple children’s book could say so much. She identified with Stellaluna. A lost fruit bat, she was taken in by the McGillys. Their kindness was unquestionable, but it was contingent on her pretending to be something she was not. The McGillys were her bird family—well-meaning, but different from her — and capable of offering her only insects, not the mangoes she craved.

She tucked Mimi into her crib just as Ben returned with the pizza. After they ate, Lily asked, “So are you just gonna hang out here tonight?”

“Thought I would. Ken has some god-awful departmental function tonight.”

“So...would it be okay if I went out for a while?”

“Sure. I’ll look after Mimi if she wakes up.”

Lily was up from the table already.

“So where are you going?” Ben asked.

“I’m going out ... to get some mangoes.”

“What do you mean, mangoes? You can’t buy mangoes in Faulkner County”

Lily grabbed her car keys and walked out the door without bothering to explain. There might be no mangoes in Faulkner County, but she did remember something from her breakfast with Jack. Like a mango, it was sweet, juicy, and succulent. There were no mangoes in Faulkner County, but there were peaches.

CHAPTER 17

Jack opened the door of her farmhouse and surveyed the new, prim Lily. “Isn’t it kinda late for Jehovah’s Witnesses?”

“Jack, it’s me.”

“Lily? Omigod, what happened to you?”

“The Chatterbox beauty shop happened to me. Can I come in?”

Still slack-jawed, Jack backed away from the door so Lily could enter.

Once the door closed behind her, words started spilling from Lily’s lips faster than she could control them. “I don’t even know why I came here, really. I just feel so...weird. Before all this shit happened, my outside always matched my inside, but now nothing matches. Buzz Dobson told me it would improve my chances with the judge if I tried to look respectable, and now when I look at myself in the mirror I don’t even see me anymore.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Jack offered her a handkerchief. “I’m scared, Jack. I’m scared of losing Mimi, and I’m scared of losing myself. What if my insides change to match what’s on the outside, Jack? What if I pretend to be a bird for so long that I forget I’m a fruit bat?”

Jack’s brow knitted. “A fruit bat?”

“It’s just a metaphor.”

“Come here.” Jack pulled her close in a tight, warm hug. “You’re still you, Lily. You’re just wearing a costume. Think of it as Halloween in July.”

Lily buried her face in the collar of Jack’s soft coveralls. They smelled of sweet hay and horse flesh. “I need to be reminded of who I am by someone who understands, by someone who’s ...”

“A fruit bat?”

Lily smiled. “Yeah.”

“Lily, what I said the other night ... I know I did a bad job of saying it, but I still meant it. I know you still love Charlotte — that you always will love her, but where she is right now, she can’t help you.

And since she can’t, I’d like to be the person who does, who looks after you, helps you with Mimi, gives you the love I know you’ve been missing. I’d like to be that person. Even if it’s just for right now, I’d like to be that person.”

Lily looked at Jack — her broad shoulders, her strong, square jaw, and her clear blue eyes.

Looking at Jack, Lily felt kindness and kinship, but she also felt something else — a stirring she hadn’t felt since her wedding night when she had dreamed of Charlotte. Standing on tiptoe in her frumpy, Sunday school-teacher shoes, Lily kissed Jack on the lips, resting one hand on the back of Jack’s head to feel the velvety stubble of her close-cropped hair.

“Wow,” Jack said, when they broke apart. “That wasn’t a pity kiss, was it?”

“I don’t do pity kisses.”

“Good.” Jack leaned down and kissed Lily this time. It was a long kiss. Their lips were parted and locked, and Lily pressed her body against Jack’s.

Lily’s mind was protesting, but her body was telling her mind to shut the hell up. It had been so long since she had felt such closeness, and she needed it — needed the comfort of two bodies twined together, needed to be in the one situation where there was no denying what she was. When the kiss ended, Lily was gasping for breath.

“The way I see it,” Jack said, wiping some of Lily’s Mary Kay lipstick from her mouth, “we’ve got two options. I can make us a pot of coffee and we can sit in the kitchen and pretend like nothing happened. Or we can go upstairs.” She looked Lily square in the eye. “It’s your call.”