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By Root 925 0

went out and checked the burgers. They were plenty done, a little overdone, in fact, and I began lifting them off the grill. The wind and the high June sun were relentless. The two-foot corn plants fanning away from the other side of the yard looked bleached from the glare, and the ground between them was dusty, even though there had been enough rain this year. I was dumbfounded at the anger that had sprung up around me in the last ten minutes. It was all so easy to imagine: Daddy stalking into Hooker, Williams, Crockett in his boots and overalls and making a fuss, then Caroline being pierced with fear when she found out; Rose silently waiting for Caroline to perform a duty that everyone but she had forgotten about; Caroline incubating her wish that we not sign the transfer papers until it turned into a conviction. She was a lawyer, so it was easy to imagine her cross-examining me, and I fell into defending myself:

He wanted us to do it, and why shouldn’t we do it?

You could have opened the door and come in, even after Daddy closed it (slammed it?).

I didn’t want the farm, but others did, and anyway it was Daddy’s idea.

And we can’t watch him every minute, either. He’s got a driver’s license and two vehicles.

There’s bound to be some adjustment as his life changes.

We should all stick together instead of getting suspicious of each other.

“You going to bring those slabs of meat inside? People are beginning to wonder where you are.”

I jumped. It was Jess Clark, smiling from the open kitchen door.

“I was gathering wool as well as hamburgers.”

“Well, come into the living room. You’ll be amazed.”

“Cool?”

“By contrast.”

He wrapped his hand around the back of my arm as I stepped through the door. I said, “Remember this day. This is the day when everything I was worried about came to pass.”

“Really?”

I could tell by his face that he didn’t know what I was talking about. I said, “It’s too complicated to go into. Just remember that I knew it all ahead of time.”

“If you say so.”

I pushed through the door into the dim coolness of the dining room. Every laughing face turned toward me and I held out the plate of hamburgers. In the refreshing coolness, we ate with appetite and joked over our food in a way that was new for us. Pete was laughing and showing off, the way Jess seemed to get him to do. Ty expanded into a bemused host, dishing up seconds for everyone and teasing Pammy and Linda, who ate everything they were given without complaint. Rose had three of everything—she was talking too much to notice what I was putting on her plate, and whatever she found there, she ate. No annoyed looks, no studied rejection of my concern. It was great cover, this mealtime sociability, and it lasted and lasted. We were still at the table, talking, at ten o’clock. I couldn’t help watching Jess, who was sitting at the head. He looked handsome and animated, as if he were really having a good time, and glad of it. Of course, it was clear to me that he carried the good time with him. When the time came for him to leave, he would carry it away, back to the West Coast.

On Sunday after church, when we gathered at Daddy’s for our annual Father’s Day dinner, the contrast was clear. Daddy was sitting at the head of the table, and he was not having a good time. The crown pork roast that Shorty Humboldt over at the locker had fashioned for me sat heavily on the white tablecloth, surrounded by pickles and roasted potatoes and a big bowl of peas from the garden. Linda and Pammy were poking each other angrily under the table, and Pete was in the kitchen getting another beer—I could hear the refrigerator door open and close. Rose said, “You want me to carve it, Daddy? You just go down between the bones.”

“I know that.”

“I know you do.”

“Well, then, don’t tell me what to do.”

“I wasn’t—” But she caught my eye and shut up, as if I had cast her a glance of some kind. Ty said, “These potatoes look great.”

Linda said, “What’re those little sticks on them?”

I said, “That’s rosemary. It’s good. It’s an herb.”

Ty said, “Ginny’s been reading the paper