Wednesday passes pretty quickly.
Thursday is an eternity. On my work shift, I triple-wash
every glass and dish. I stack and restack
the dinner plates, rearrange the bowls.
Mary Sue glares at me the whole time.
“Don’t be so ambitious,” she scolds.
“Makes the rest of us look lazy.”
That wouldn’t be hard, I feel like saying. (But I don’t.)

At home, I heat up the least-burned piece
of Denise’s meat loaf and choke it down.
I sweep the kitchen and vacuum every room.
Dad calls home at precisely eight-thirty.
“I’m giving my last exam, so don’t wait up.
But leave the lights on, OK?”

OK, Dad.    No problem.    Click. Breathe.

Carolann and Malcolm are outside waiting.
They look as nervous as I feel.

“We should split up tonight,” Carolann suggests.
“Take different ways to the church. Just in case.”

This seems like spillover from her mystery-book reading.
I turn to Malcolm. “Can’t hurt,” he shrugs.

“OK,” I say. “I’ll take Maple—you two take Walnut or Main.”

We head out separately. We meet up again shortly
in the churchyard, where Harry Keating
promised he’d be waiting,
but he is nowhere to be found.