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have potbellies.”
    “But she probably got a Vietnamese potbellied pig,” said Jane.
    “Who cares where she got it,” said Ethel. “The problem is, it’s a pig. And Clara does
not
live on a farm.”
    “Lots of people in California got potbellied pigs for pets during the nineties,” said Jane. “It was quite the fad.”
    “Well, maybe in California,” said Ethel. “Everyone knows that those people out there are all half-crazy anyway.”
    Jane just rolled her eyes.
    “Where does Clara intend to keep her pet?” asked Louise.
    “That’s just it,” declared Ethel. “She keeps the nasty thing in her house. I’ve heard that it actually sleeps in her bed.” She shook her head in utter disgust. “The woman is clearly losing her marbles.”
    “Oh, come on,” said Alice. “Maybe she’s just lonely. It hasn’t been that long since she lost her husband.”
    “Well, I remember what it’s like to bury a husband,” said Ethel. “And you didn’t find me sleeping with a dirty old pig.”
    This pronouncement sent the three sisters into sidesplitting laughter. Ethel just sat there, staring at them as if they were no saner than Clara Horn. “Well,” she finally said as she reached for her oversized purse, “I never.”
    Alice was the first to recover. “Sorry, Aunt Ethel. We’re not laughing at you. It’s just so funny—about the pig and all.”
    “Yes,” agreed Louise, placing her hand on Ethel’s arm as she used her lace trimmed handkerchief to wipe tears of laughter from her eyes. “I must agree with you, dear, I never would have considered sleeping with a pig after I buried my husband either—”
    Jane lost it all over again, and Alice was not far behind her. Louise, still stifling her own giggles, kindly took Ethel by the arm and walked with her out the back door.
    “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” said Jane, wiping her wet eyes with a tissue. “That was just so funny.”
    Alice nodded. “Yes, and you know how laughter’s contagious. As soon as you got started, I just couldn’t help myself.”
    Jane rose from her chair and went to the back door. “Well, it’s also good medicine. I needed a laugh.”
    “I just hope we didn’t offend Aunt Ethel.”
    “Not to worry, it looks like Louise is smoothing it all over.” Jane pointed out to the garden where the two older women stood talking amidst the roses.
    “So, do you think it’s really true about Clara?” asked Alice as she rinsed her teacup and set it in the dishwasher.
    “You mean that she sleeps with a pig?”
    “Please,” begged Alice. “Don’t get me going again.”
    “Why not?” said Jane as she walked to the cupboard and reached for her big mixing bowl. “I’ve heard they make nice pets. Very intelligent. Only one problem.”
    “What’s that?”
    “They start out cute and small, but they can grow up to be enormous. They can weigh hundreds of pounds.”
    “Goodness. I can’t imagine Clara Horn caring for something like that.”
    Jane was sifting flour into the bowl. “I thought I’d whip up some sugar cookies. They’re not fancy, but I just got a yen for them this morning. Maybe it’s all this down-home talk about pigs.” Jane laughed.
    “Sugar cookies sound delicious to me,” said Alice. “Are you using Mother’s old recipe? She used to make the best ones. Bigger than my hand with the fingers widespread. Of course, my hands were a lot smaller then.”
    “I probably won’t make them that big. They might not look very dainty for our guests.”
    “Perhaps I could take a few to Vera,” said Alice. “She wasn’t feeling well yesterday.”
    “That’s a great idea,” said Jane. “I’ll set aside a special plate for her and Fred.”

    Alice took Vera her cookies later in the afternoon, but on her way, she saw Clara Horn wheeling an old-fashioned baby buggy down the street toward her. Alice paused to say hello. “And who’s in the baby carriage?” asked Alice, but she was afraid she already