Chapter 10: The Altar Guild

Dale stood in the kitchen doorway and said nothing for a long moment.

Then he dropped the bakery bag on the counter.

"Give me that key," he said.

"No."

"That's Mom's house. You don't walk in and take her things."

"It's my house too," I said. "I grew up in it."

Everett stood up from the table.

He did not say a word, and he did not raise his hands.

He was six foot two and he simply stood between my brother and me.

Dale looked at him, and then at the housekeeper, and his face went red.

"You'll lose this job," he told her. "You know that. You'll lose it today."

"Yes," she said. "I expect so."

Dale stalked out.

I heard the front door slam and his car start.

"He's going to warn her," the housekeeper said.

"Good," I said. "I want her warned. I want her to sit there and have to watch."

At two o'clock the front room of the house on Alder Lane held fourteen women.

They sat on the sofas and the good chairs with teacups on their knees and plates of lemon bars on the low table.

My mother was in the middle of the big sofa in her pale blue dress, with a cushion under her sling.

She looked exactly like a woman who had been hurt and had forgiven it.

The pastor's wife sat beside her, holding her good hand.

I walked in through the open front door with Everett at my shoulder and the housekeeper behind us.

The room stopped talking.

"Callie," said my mother, and her voice trembled. "Sweetheart. You came."

"I came to get something from the dining room, Mom."

"This isn't a good time. As you see, I have guests."

"I know," I said. "That's why I came now."

Dale was standing in the dining room doorway behind the sofa with his arms folded.

"You're not going in there," he said.

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