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town.”
    There was only the one word from Layton Duddney: “Why?”
    Trella moved closer to the bed, momentarily leaving Councilman Sparks in the background. “Because he likes you.”
    But there was no response.
    â€œMay I speak to him?” Councilman Sparks asked, moving to her side.
    â€œGo right ahead. Just don’t expect anything.”
    Councilman Sparks took his time. This was harder than he thought it was going to be. He couldn’t help but remember when Layton Duddney had been a much younger and far more vigorous man who had conducted the business of Cherico for many years alongside his own father. The two had been an unbeatable pair of politicians, weathering every storm that had ever come their way. They had always managed to sweep suspicion and controversy under the Persian rugs of their City Hall offices. And they had also done their fair share of good things for the community.
    â€œIf you play your political cards right, Durden,” Layton had once told him, “you can lead a charmed life.” And that, along with other incentives, pep talks, and revelations from his own father, had settled him on a career as a Cherico city councilman.
    â€œLayton,” Councilman Sparks said, feeling something catch in his throat as he spoke. “I’m Durden. When I was a teenager, you used to call me Durdie. I remember distinctly the summer Mom made you stop, though. She said it made me sound like I needed a bath.”
    Layton remained in silent posing mode.
    â€œI told ya,” Trella said, her smile absent for once.
    Councilman Sparks decided to try again. “Layton?”
    Suddenly, there seemed to be a spark of recognition again, and Layton gave the councilman an intense, almost angry stare. “I said . . . I don’t need changin’!”
    Trella was shaking her head. “It’s no use, Mr. Sparks. I think he gets worse every day, like I’ve been telling you over the phone. But at least now you can say you’ve seen it for yourself.”
    That was all Councilman Sparks could take. He quickly thanked Trella for her time and assistance, and then headed out of Cherico Nursing Manor as fast as he could negotiate the succession of corridors. He had always told himself that the end justified the means. He had always had the best interests of the people of Cherico at heart. He had to believe that.
    Long before Layton Duddney had lost it, he had taken Councilman Sparks aside and talked turkey with him. “This little town will die on the vine unless you’re strong and aggressive. You think the people and the companies and the businesses with money out there know where the hell we are anymore? Your daddy and I figured out a long time ago that the main chance had passed our little Cherico by. We had the lake and the Tennessee River going for us, but we just pretended that they weren’t even there. So we did what we could to keep Cherico on the map, and that’s what you gotta do, son. And after both of us are gone, you gotta keep at it. That’ll be your legacy, son. That’ll be your legacy.”
    When Councilman Sparks started the engine of his SUV out in the parking lot, he had to steady himself with a couple of deep, cleansing breaths that caused his seat belt to tighten and press against his stomach. Then he glanced into the rearview mirror and was shocked to see the single tear coursing down his right cheek.
    Out loud, he said, “Now where the hell did that come from?”

4
A Gump in the Road
    A s they had done every now and then over the six years of their friendship, Maura Beth and Periwinkle were closing down The Twinkle. Of course, all the votive candles on the two-seaters were still flickering, the silver and gold star mobiles were dangling above them, and the quiet stylings of a Diana Krall CD were working their magic in the softly lit background. But the last customer—a paunchy carpet salesman passing through