Mom got a dish towel and dried her arms and hands. "Oh, well... Martha Jane's gonna be here the last Sunday in October with her husband, you know, tha... guy from Connecticut she married. We're gonna have a little barbecue out back on the patio. Your daddy's out there repairin' the barbecue stand. Anyway, you gonna be here that Sunday afternoon? Last weekend in October?" Yeah," I said, pouring a glass of milk. "I guess." You gonna bring JoAnn? Martha Jane never met JoAnn. Martha Jane says she. Melinda inched to the side as if to hide the backpack. "What's going on?" Heather demanded."I don't know what the hell you're talking about." When you answer like that, it means you do." Get bent, Heather," Melinda said in a low and reluctant voice as she spun around, her hair flying. She grunted again as she hauled the backpack over her shoulder. Heather caught her as she started to tip over. A zipper burst open, and Heather spied the edge of a pink notebook. Heather reached for it, but. More

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