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answered. “Let me get him for you.” Then she paused. “I could just give him the recipe card, couldn’t I?”
    â€œYep, that would be grand,” Beatrice answered.
    There was a pause from the receptionist, and Beatrice heard the bell on the front door ring. She knew someone was coming into the funeral home.
    â€œLet me get Mr. Witherspoon for you,” Betty noted quickly and put the call on hold before Beatrice could say anything else.
    A few seconds passed and Dick picked up.
    â€œHey doll, what’s up?” he asked.
    â€œWhy did you tell Betty about the cake contest?” she asked before giving any greeting.
    â€œI don’t recall telling Betty about your contest,” he replied.
    â€œWell, somehow she knew about it and you seem to like to talk to her about everything.”
    Dick sighed. “I didn’t tell Betty about the contest and I don’t like to talk to her about everything.”
    Beatrice wanted to cry but she didn’t.
    â€œWell, don’t tell her anything else,” she ordered. “Betty likes to make fun of our church because her pastor has a doctorate and they have a special choir with those shiny handbells and she thinks they’re better than everybody else.”
    â€œOkay,” Dick said softly, “I won’t ever tell her anything about what’s going on at church.” He waited. “What did you call for?” he asked.
    Beatrice could tell he was trying not to be mad at her. They had lots of these kinds of discourses lately. He had never argued with her but she had noticed that he seemed to be losing patience with her. He had even started staying longer at work than he used to. Beatrice now suddenly realized that he was avoiding her, avoiding coming home.
    â€œAre you having an affair with Betty?” she asked, startling herself with the question.
    Dick chuckled. “Is that why you called?” he asked.
    â€œAre you evading the question?” Beatrice asked. Now she was starting to think it was possible. Maybe her husband was cheating on her, and she wondered if that was cause to be depressed.
    â€œBea, I am not cheating on you. I am not having an affair with Betty. You know she’s married to my first cousin.”
    Beatrice considered that and realized she was talking crazy.
    â€œOkay, you’re not having an affair with Betty,” she noted. “I believe you,” she added.
    â€œGreat,” Dick responded. “Now, is something wrong this morning? Do you need anything?”
    She shook her head and then remembered the last part of her conversation with Louise. “No,” she answered him. “I just wanted to see if you were coming home for lunch.”
    â€œNo, dear,” Dick responded. “I’ve got the Mackey funeral this afternoon. The family is coming at twelve-thirty.” He paused. “I told you that at breakfast,” he added.
    â€œOh, that’s right, I remember now,” although she didn’t. “Did Edith take Fred’s glass eye?”
    â€œI don’t think so, sweetie. What would she do with her dead husband’s glass eye?” he asked.
    â€œMake a necklace? I don’t know. I just thought you gave people those kind of artificial parts.”
    â€œNo,” Dick said slowly. “Not here,” he added. “Maybe some places do.”
    â€œYeah, maybe,” she responded. “So, see you at dinner then?”
    â€œNo, Bea, I’ve got Rotary tonight.”
    Beatrice then recalled the conversation they had earlier in the day. She had forgotten everything he had said after she talked to Louise.
    â€œOh, of course, I know that,” she said, trying to sound like she had just made a minor slip-up.
    â€œHave you talked to Margaret today?” he asked.
    â€œNo, why?”
    â€œYou just sound…” He paused. “I don’t know, a little down,” he added.
    â€œI talked to Lou.