BARBARAANNETTE WAS ALWAYS GLAD to see Mary Beth, but she often wished it were some other time. Yesterday, for instance. Or tomorrow. It didn’t matter. Though she loved her sister dearly, the time was never quite right for Mary Beth and Barbaraannette. They both knew it and avoided one another when possible, but being sisters in a small community meant they saw each other often.
Barbaraannette said, in a vain effort to get things off right, “Mary Beth, you are looking sensational!”
Mary Beth arched one charcoal eyebrow and unleashed her metallic voice. “Same as I looked last Thursday, dear. What’s this I hear about you giving away a million U.S. dollars to that no-good women-chasing wife-abandoning nightcrawler Bobby Quinn?”
Same old Mary Beth, going straight for the giblets.
“How about a cup of coffee,” suggested Barbaraannette. “A little caffeine to calm you down.”
“Thank you, dear.” Mary Beth said, heading for the kitchen. “A million dollars. Better you should pay someone to beat you senseless with a two-by-four than give that man a copper penny.” Mary Beth worked at the Grant Anderson Medical Center, Cold Rock’s largest hospital, where she ran the Family Planning Clinic with legendary exactitude.
Barbaraannette followed her sister into the kitchen. “I’m not giving anything to him, Mary Beth. The reward is for whoever finds him.”
“Same difference.” Mary Beth poured herself a cup of coffee from the Chemex.
“No it isn’t.”
“Either way, you’re a million dollars poorer, dear, and for what? A man hardly worth thinking twice about. You were married to him three years. Were you happy?”
“Part of me was.”
“What about the part above your waist, dear?”
Barbaraannette blushed. “I didn’t mean anything like that.”
Mary Beth said, “Don’t think you’re the only girl in this town who was part happy with Bobby.”
“I’m the only one he married,” said Barbaraannette. But she knew that what her sister said was true. Since high school Bobby Quinn had applied great energy toward sowing his oats. Marriage had only slowed him down a little. “I know Bobby was a little wild.”
“He was a lot wild, dear.” Mary Beth’s eyes remained granite, but a faint hint of color came and went on her throat. “That man knew how to charm a woman every which way, and make her thank God she’d had the bad judgment to let him.” She sipped her coffee. “By the way, did you know that Art Dobbleman is sitting outside in his car trying to get up the nerve to come knock on your door?”
“Art?” Barbaraannette went to the window and looked past the curtain. “Where? In that gray car? I wonder what he wants.”
“He probably wants you to put your money in his bank instead of spending every last dime of it chasing that no-good Bobby.”
“I always liked Art. We went out once. He was a perfect gentleman.”
Mary Beth nodded. “That was always his problem.”
Barbaraannette laughed.
Mary Beth drained her coffee cup. “Are you ready?”
“Ready? For what?”
“It’s Saturday, dear. Did you think I dropped by simply to chat?”
“Oh!” Barbaraannette had completely lost track of time. Saturday was the day she and Mary Beth visited their mother, Hilde Grabo. “Did you call her?”
“An hour ago. She should be expecting us.”
Barbaraannette nodded. The phone call made it more likely that Hilde would recognize them this time, but it was no guarantee.