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Volunteer more.   Join clubs.   Be part of things.   Why don't you volunteer at the hospital or the nursing home?   You're so good with taking care of people."
    "I love R.J., hon.   I don't want to divorce him.   I just hope he snaps out of this and decides he doesn't want to divorce me."
    "Do you think that could happen?   I would hate to have Bobby leave me."
    "I'm sure that will never happen.   Umm, hon?   Have you ever seen anything or heard anything about R.J.?   You know a lot of people…."
    "There's always gossip about R.J.   People like to talk and he's always doing something stupid or trying to fleece someone.   But this isn't exactly news.   Oh, my goodness!   I'm almost forgetting why I'm here."
    "What have you heard?"
    "Oh gee, I don't know.   Nothing new I guess.   I have too much on my mind to pay attention to stupid gossip.   You know the Art and Craft Show? I'm co-chairperson, this year.   And I need your help!"
    "If you hear anything from now on, will you please tell me?"
    "Okay, sure.   Why don't you just throw yourself into helping me and maybe this mess will blow over."
    "What do you need?"
    "Oh you know, be a gopher, make calls, help sell shirts."
    "Sure."
    "Hey--did you finish my dress yet?"
    "It's almost finished.   Want to come upstairs and try it on?"
    They walked up the stairs and into Annabeth's bedroom where the sewing machine was always open and from an old trunk, painted with the usual embellishments, Annabeth pulled out a black linen sheath she was sewing for Julie, holding it up for inspection.
    "Gee it looks great.   Let me try it on."   Julie tossed off her sundress and pulled the sheath over her head.   "Mmm, fits perfectly," she commented with pleasure, walking toward the mirror.
    "Yes, you look wonderful.   Very sophisticated."
    Julie walked back toward Annabeth, twirling once in a circle like a runway model, then she stopped to peer into Annabeth's sewing trunk.   She pulled out lengths of fabric, some pastel, some print.   Toward the very bottom she found a piece of soft rayon floral print, brightened here and there with gold thread.   "Oh I love this."
    "Yes, isn't it pretty?   Laurel sent it to me from New Orleans.   I thought I might sew something to wear to Sally's..."
    Before she could finish her comment, Julie had interrupted.   "Oh wouldn't I love some palazzo pants from this.   You could get more from Laurel, couldn't you?"
    "I guess so."
    "Oh, please!"
    "All right, Julie, palazzo pants."
    "Did I tell you that Ginger said to come to supper?"
    "No you did not!   Tonight?"
    "Yeah, tonight.   I told her you probably could make it."
    "Well, thanks a lot."   Annabeth glanced at her watch.   Three-thirty.   There would be time.   "If I'm going to supper there, I'd better get into the kitchen and bake some of those orange-pecan muffins Dad likes so much."
    "Oh, I love those too."
    "Want to stay and help me?"
    "I wish I could but I have to pick up little Bobby from his friend's.   But you could make an extra batch and bring them over tomorrow when you come to house sit for the cable man."
    "Okay, sure."
    By five-thirty, Annabeth was at her father's house, setting the supper table for her stepmother, Ginger, the basket of still-warm muffins on the sideboard.   At six, they sat down to eat, three adults at a table that was designed to seat eight people.
    Will Copeland had consumed two of the muffins along with his baked chicken, canned asparagus and mashed potatoes made from a mix.  
    "Don't eat too many of those muffins, honey-pie.   Think of cholesterol.   I've got your father on a little diet," confided Ginger to Annabeth as though Will were not in the room.   "Since he retired, he's been gaining weight.   Despite all the extra golf."
    "Mmm" assented Will, reaching for a third muffin before his wife could remove the basket to the kitchen.
    "So you're getting divorced, we hear?" asked Ginger.
    "What?" asked Will.
    "Yes, Annabeth is divorcing