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people as they heard about Willie Lee. Each time Marilee would jump to answer, hoping it was the sheriff calling to say Willie Lee was found. After three more such calls, she waved at Parker to answer.
    Then Charlotte Nation drove up in her little red GrandAm. Marilee, sitting at the window, watched Charlotte unfold her long legs out of the car and come swiftly up the walk, her arms loaded with brown bags. Charlotte had brought containers of fried chicken and potato salad from the Quick Shop that had put in a delicatessen.
    Marilee looked at the food and felt sick; it was like funeral food.
    Charlotte reported that June had managed to correct both the Ford and IGA ads in time for Leo’s delivery of the disks to the printer for tomorrow’s edition. And that their new publisher, Tate Holloway, had arrived before schedule.
    “He did?” Vaguely, Marilee tried to be concerned about this.
    “Don’t worry about him,” Charlotte said, giving a dismissive wave. “He took it upon himself to come early, so he had to take what he got. And when Willie Lee comes home, you are going to be worn out, so sleep in tomorrow morning and just come on down when you get ready.”
    When Willie Lee comes home…
    As Charlotte’s Grand Am pulled away from the curb, Marilee, who felt the need to keep vigil out the front window, was dismayed to see her mother’s Cadillac pull in. The car bore a front license plate that said CCoopers, which was advertising of a sort for the discount appliance store owned by her mother’s second husband—Carl Cooper—one of those stores that plastered the television with cluttered and tasteless ads. What this did for Marilee’s mother, however, was give her the fame she craved.
    Watching her mother, a small woman with Lady Clairol blond hair who walked in short, quick strides,Marilee had the thought to run and hide, but like one inextricably caught, she kept sitting there.
    Her mother had come to talk about Marilee helping her get new tires for her Cadillac, because her husband could not be counted on to do this to her satisfaction.
    “Carl won’t take the time,” she said, having launched immediately into her request. “He insists on just goin’ down to the discount tire warehouse and getting the cheapest ones slapped on there…and he doesn’t pay attention if they balance them or not.”
    Marilee jumped in to say, “Mother, I can’t talk to you about this now. Willie Lee is missing.”
    Upon being told of her grandson’s disappearance, her mother became very agitated. Her entire countenance became one of doom, so much so that to look at her made Marilee have trouble breathing.
    Her mother then launched in with comments of a dire sort. “Anything could happen to him out there, all these perverts in the world.” And, “The boy is too friendly, doesn’t know a stranger. I hope he didn’t get in a car with somebody.” Then, “You never should have sent the boy to school anyway. He isn’t capable of regular school,” and, in a whisper that really wasn’t one and that Parker heard very well, “You should marry Parker, and then you could stay home with the boy.”
    Invariably her mother called Willie Lee the boy.
    “He has a name, mother. It is Willie Lee. ”
    “Well, I know that,” her mother said, looking confused and hurt and more fearful than ever. Marilee felt like a toad but did not apologize.
    Parker, who could stand no conflict, said, “Norma, would you like more coffee?”
    Marilee turned and went and shut herself in the bathroom, where she stared at her reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror for a long minute, asking all sorts of unintelligible questions of herself and God.
    Finally, her spinning brain settling somewhat, she opened the medicine cabinet and began a thorough search. Surely she had some pills left in here from the time when Stuart had walked out on her. Surely she did. Oh, Lordy, she felt like she was coming apart.
    A knock sounded at the door. Marilee, wondering