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told me they’re famous for their battles.”
    “Let’s just say that, with them gone, McGill, Georgia, is enjoying the longest crime-free streak right now that they’ve had in years. Since those two went out on their first date.”
    “I’m afraid to ask.”
    “As you should be.” Savannah drew a deep breath. “Supposedly, Butch checked out some other girl’s butt there in the Dairy Queen while he was eating his banana split.”
    “Uh-oh.”
    “Yeah. What Vidalia did to him is still a popular story, told in hushed whispers around campfires. A cautionary tale to husbands and boyfriends with roving eyes.”
    “So, I shouldn’t offer him a banana split in front of her?”
    “Not if you value your life ... or your gonads.”
    He winced. “I’ll remember that. I’m rather attached to my gonads. . . as they are to me.” He brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes and looked down at her lovingly. “How are you today? Little Jillian told me that you had a bad dream last night.”
    “I did.”
    “Same one?”
    “With a slight, wedding-theme variation. Jillian and Gran comforted me.”
    “Yes, Jillian told me that part, too. Said she made you feel better by keeping the bogeyman away.”
    “I’m sure her motives were totally altruistic and had nothing to do with sleeping in a comfy bed rather than on the floor with her siblings.”
    “I can’t blame her. I’d rather have slept with you last night myself,” he said, his voice deep and low.
    She looked up into his eyes that were so filled with affection for her ... along with a healthy helping of lust. And she wondered how she’d resisted him for so long. Now that they’d crossed the line into a romantic relationship, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.
    “Are you hungry?” he said. “We could go wrangle some free donuts at Patty Cake. And the guy at the service station on Lester and Main, he’s been giving me his leftover coffee if I get there before he throws it out.”
    Ah, yes ... now she remembered how she’d resisted him.
    “And you were doing so well,” she said.
    “What?”
    “Never mind. Come inside and I’ll make you some breakfast.”
    He hesitated. The haunted, frightened look returned to his eyes. “In there? With ... all of them? With Vi and Butch? With Marietta’s purple miniskirt?”
    “I’ll protect you.”
    “But I don’t want you cooking for me. You need your rest.”
    “Stop with that protective crap. And don’t worry. I wasn’t going to cook. I was going to give you wienie hors d’oeurves and ham spread on crackers with wedding cake for dessert.”
    His face lit up. “Oh, cool.”
    “You’re hopeless.”

    Half an hour later, they were sitting at the picnic table in the backyard, Dirk eating reception leftovers and Savannah enjoying a standard-issue eggs-and-bacon breakfast, when two of Savannah’s favorite people came around the side of the house.
    “Ryan! John!” she exclaimed as she jumped up from her seat and hurried over to them.
    They folded her into warm embraces, each taking turns clucking over her, expressing their sympathies about the thwarted wedding ceremony.
    “I have to tell you, I’m cursing Fate that something so rotten would happen to you , of all people! Talk about unfair!” Ryan Stone said, his handsome face registering the same degree of pain and outrage that most people would feel over mass puppy-cide.
    “My darling, it’s beastly!” said John Gibson in his aristocratic, British accent. “And when I heard that all of your wedding apparel and accoutrements were burned as well, I could hardly bear it!”
    She reached up and tweaked John’s thick silver mustache. “Eh, don’t fret. What’s done is done. Can’t be helped now.”
    Ryan walked over to the table and shook Dirk’s hand. “I’m sorry, man,” he said. “We were really looking forward to seeing the two of you tie the knot. It’s been a long time coming.”
    “Tell me about it,” Dirk said. He held out a