I put a Band-Aid on my knuckle and ate leftover ribs for breakfast-cold, right out of the refrigerator, licking the sticky sauce off my fingers instead of using a napkin or even a paper towel. The phone rang as I started up the stairs to get ready for church. I picked it up on the third ring.

"Hello"

"Trudy, are you still there? You will go home right now. Mother is mortified. Dad is ready to commit you. You've proven your point. You've embarrassed me. I'll be home tomorrow, and you'd best be there," Drew said.

"You can kiss my naturally born southern hind end, Drew Williams." I hung up. That felt even better than murdering the alarm clock had.

The phone rang again, but I gave it a threatening look and reminded it that the hammer was still out in the toolbox. It stopped on the fourth ring. Guess I made a believer out of it.

I held up the two new dresses hanging in the closet and decided on the red one. I liked the yellow with the Hawaiianprint jacket, but I would want to wear the hat with it, and today I wasn't covering up my hair. Not one resident of Johnston County, Oklahoma, was going to say I wore a hat out of shame for a bad decision.

I slipped the red dress over my head. It was as comfortable as one of Gert's nightgowns. The jacket didn't bind me up, and the shoes felt pretty darn close to house slippers.

Billy Lee was sitting on the porch when I opened the door. He wore bibbed overalls and a short-sleeved chambray shirt. Both were crisply ironed, and his shoes were polished.

"You going to church?" he asked.

"Yes, I am"

"Which one?"

"Same one I always go to. The one on Main Street. You?"

"I go to the same one me and Gert always went to. The one on Broadway Street. Thought if you were going to our church, we might ride together."

It looked like the property came complete with Billy Lee Tucker in all phases-work, eating, church. "Maybe another time. You want to come with me today?"

He shook his head so hard that if he'd been wearing glasses, they would have been flung to a far corner of the yard. "No, thank you. But it's an open invitation if you ever want to go with me"

"Thanks. I just might do that someday."

He followed me out to the Impala and opened the door. "You look lovely. Is that a new dress?"

"Yes, it is, and thank you," I said.

"Red is a good color for you. It goes well with your hair."

I had a panic attack in the church parking lot. I wasn't even sure I could get into heaven if I didn't uphold the standards set by my mother. What would happen to the rich and shameless if I didn't wear black Versace and control-top hose to church on Sunday mornings?

Eyebrows almost hit the ceiling, and there was a steady drone of whispers, but no one brought out a rope with a noose on the end when I walked inside. Betsy wore the same black suit she'd worn to Aunt Gert's funeral, and her bleached hair had been cut. Marty wore a black sheath-style dress with a lacy jacket, and her red hair was swept up with a clip. If they had their hearts set on a new Thunderbird, they'd best call in a plastic surgeon. A new hairdo wouldn't be enough to do the trick. I slid into my normal place, leaving room for Drew out of habit.

Betsy leaned over and whispered into my ear. "What in God's name are you wearing?"

"A new bra, panties, no hose, a dress with matching jacket, and shoes," I whispered back.

Marty leaned past her and gave me a dirty look. She should be careful with those mean glares. A dead alarm clock could testify that I was never taking any guff again, and the hammer was in the toolbox, ready and waiting.

The Sunday school director made a few announcements. The choir director led us in a hymn, and the preacher took the pulpit. He preached on about forgiveness. He was one funeral late and two cousins short. I'd forgive my cousins if they apologized from the depths of their evil souls. I would forgive Drew when he was lying in a casket with his hands draped over his cheating heart.

"Drew is going to kill you, coming to church looking like that," Marty said the minute the benediction was delivered.

"Crucify, is more like it," Betsy said.

"Which one of you wants Aunt Gert's house when he does?"

Marty shivered.

Betsy's eyes bugged out.

"Then you'd better protect me, because I swear to God, I'll leave it to one of you. You'll be sure to take care of it for me, won't you?" I reached the door and shook the preacher's hand. He blinked fast a dozen times before he called me by name. I'm sure he was in shock, but I don't reckon it was fatal, since he didn't drop graveyard-dead.

I was glad for air-conditioning when I got into my car and drove west through town toward the Western Inn's restaurant. I cruised past the funeral home, the H&R Block, the flower shop, drugstore, E-Z Mart, a bank, clothing stores, and all the makings of a small town with a four-block business area and two red lights.

I knew most of the people in the restaurant, and a few mumbled a cautious hello. They didn't want to get too close to the crazy woman, since scientists hadn't yet proved whether crazy, like stupid, is inherited or contagious.

The waitress brought a glass of water to my booth and asked if I wanted to see a menu or if I would be having the buffet. I chose the buffet, so she told me to help myself. Mabelle Strong slipped in behind me as I was loading my plate with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, and hot rolls and eyeing the fried okra on the other side. --- -- - - - -- - - - - -

Mabelle had wispy blue gray hair that barely covered her scalp. Her lipstick had run into the wrinkles around her mouth, and a bed of crow's-feet cradled her bright blue eyes.

"Trudy Williams, you need to go home and stop this nonsense. You look like a cheap floozy. Have you lost your mind, girl? Gert would be ashamed of you," she said, without lowering her voice a bit.

"How are you doing, Mabelle? I suspect that Gert would be standing on a tabletop clapping for me this morning. That is a lovely brooch you're wearing. I believe my Uncle Lonnie bought that for you back before he died. Now, what were you saying about my state of mind?"

She turned sixteen shades of red, one of which matched her lipstick perfectly. It looked as if she was going to succumb to acute cardiac arrest, but she managed to suck in enough air to keep her heart pumping. It would have been terrible if she'd dropped right there, because it would've slowed down the line, and the fried okra was on the other side of the buffet.

I ate alone and wondered if Billy Lee was having Sunday dinner with some of the folks from his church. Did they tell him he looked like a dirt farmer and to go home and change his clothes? I didn't think so. Compared to Gert, Billy Lee probably didn't even qualify as an oddball.

After lunch I went home and changed into my new overalls and orange sleeveless knit shirt and started cleaning out my bedroom. I carefully wrapped all the ceramic animals in old newspapers and filled two empty boxes I found in the garage. After I taped the lids shut, I carried them down to the living room. I'd haul them down to Durant to the Goodwill store the next time -I went that way.

I found a flat-edged screwdriver in the toolbox out in the garage and went after the shelves and their cornice boards with the gusto of a hungry hound dog. But the screws had been there since the sixth day of creation and wouldn't budge. I leaned into the screwdriver with all my might, and a cornice finally let go. I started to back that sucker right out of there, only to have the one on the other end of the shelf let go and the whole shelf crash down on my bare right foot.