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a round of golf.” Jeanne wrapped her arms around her neighbor.

“Lucky break. My shoulder was bothering me that day,” Frank said defensively.

“Your shoulder is always bothering you,” Jeanne shot back in a fun-poking way. “Face it, Frank. You’re just a sore loser.”

Frank muttered something under his breath. Jeanne threaded her arm through Colleen’s. “Don’t mind him. He hates losing, especially to a girl.” The two women giggled and went inside the house.

“You are such a peach, Colleen. The house always smells fresh when we get home.” Jeanne took in a deep breath. “Don’t tell me you stopped at the market?” Jeanne approached the refrigerator, knowing what the answer would be. “Really, Colleen. You are such a darling. You and Mitchel take such good care of things when we’re away. We don’t have to worry about anything while we’re gone.” Jeanne pulled out the cheese and opened the box of crackers while Frank brought in their luggage.

“Oh, sure. Let me do all the work while you fix yourself a snack.” Frank loved to tease his wife. He would never expect her to haul their suitcases out of the car. He told her that carrying her pocketbook was strenuous enough.

“Yes, I’m just lollygagging around, fixing us some snacks.” She took out a bottle of beer and poured it into a frozen mug she retrieved from the freezer and handed the mug to Frank. “Here you go, my liege lord.”

He placed the suitcases in the hallway and took the mug. “Nothing like a crisp, cold one after fourteen hundred miles of highway.”

“You can thank Colleen for providing this pleasure.” Jeanne cut some of the cheese and placed it on the plate with the crackers. “Let me know how much I owe you for all of this. Please sit.”

“Yes, thank you, sweet Colleen. It is much appreciated.” He took another sip of his beer and put the half-filled mug in the refrigerator. “I’ll be back for the rest of this as soon as I empty the trunk.” Frank proceeded to move the suitcases and boxes from the car to their appropriate spots. Boxes went in the garage for sorting. Luggage went into the den for unpacking.

Jeanne turned to Colleen. “I’m going to open the wine, and you can catch me up with what’s been happening in our quiet hamlet.”

A glass of wine sounded like a good idea, given what Colleen was about to tell them. Or should she wait? The decision was made for her when Jeanne asked, “How are Jackson and Mitchel?”

“Jackson is doing great. He’s made good friends with Buddy.”

“Ellie Bowman’s dog?” Jeanne sounded surprised.

“Yes. And get this. She’s been letting Jackson into the yard. He’s there every day.”

“Seriously?” Jeanne’s eyes widened. “How did that happen?”

“You know, Jackson shot up in height this year. Well, one day Mitchel and Jackson were on the street tossing a baseball. Jackson was at the end of the street in front of Ellie’s house.” Colleen paused, realizing Mitchel would be the next subject. “Jackson was finally tall enough to see over the fence. Buddy was just sitting there, watching and wagging his tail. Jackson walked over to the fence, Buddy jumped up, still wagging his tail, and ever since Jackson petted him on the head, they’ve been BFFs.”

“But how did he get inside the fence?” Jeanne prodded.

“Oh, yeah. You know how I invited her a dozen times for tea, but she always declined.”

“Yes. She never leaves the house.”

“Right. I guess she was feeling guilty. I really don’t know, but one day, out of the blue, I got a note asking if it was all right for Jackson to play in the yard. I almost fell over. After what happened with Mitchel—” She stopped immediately.

“What happened with Mitchel?” Jeanne sat up straight. Frank came down the hallway and repeated what Jeanne had just said. “What happened with Mitchel?”

“Is he OK?” Jeanne asked.

Colleen looked over at Frank. “You better sit down. But first, get your beer.”

Jeanne looked genuinely concerned. “Is Mitchel OK? Is he sick?”

“No. And no.” Colleen answered. “It’s no secret that Mitchel was drinking more than he used to. I don’t know what got into him, but his drinking was getting worse.”

“I have to be honest,” Jeanne said. “I thought he had gotten a little bit too sloshed at a few parties. I’m no one to talk, but at least I’m still able to talk when I’m drinking. I may not make a whole lot of sense, but I can usually enunciate my words.”

Frank broke into the conversation. “Jeanne’s right. I noticed it a couple of times, but I wasn’t really paying that much attention. But I guess you’re right about it escalating. The last party he got a little snarky with Andy. He called him a ‘dandy. Dandy-Andy.’ Andy didn’t seem the least bit offended, but it was rude and disrespectful. The man is ninety years old, for God’s sake, and he dresses better than almost anybody in the state of Missouri. Heck, pretty much anywhere.”

“I had no idea Mitchel had spoken to him that way. That’s terrible.” Colleen was upset, but not surprised about Mitchel’s behavior. At the rate Mitchel’s drinking had been escalating, it was amazing that terrible evening hadn’t happened sooner. Poor Andy. He didn’t deserve that.

“Never mind all that. I don’t think Andy really minded. What happened with you and Mitchel?” Jeanne reached out and touched Colleen’s hand.

“Just so you know, everything is under control. No one got seriously hurt,” Colleen reassured them.

“Well, that in itself isn’t very reassuring,” Jeanne said.

Frank interjected. “So start from the beginning. What happened?”

Colleen started with the same information she had already given them. Mitchel’s drinking had escalated. One morning, he was on the porch yelling at Jackson to come and talk to his father. They were late for school, so Colleen and Jackson continued on their way. That evening, Mitchel got home late, and he was very drunk. And he “got physical.”

Frank interrupted. “What do you mean ‘physical’?”

Colleen continued, fearing that Frank might do something

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