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you have driven away without checking on the child or ensuring the woman had a ride home?” Nolan’s respect of Grace’s brother rose by the moment.
    Craig looked at Nolan. His eyes were honest, and he was not offended by Craig’s interrogation. “You’re right. Grace is right. I overreacted. Thanks for understanding. Let’s go get that mattress.”
    ~*~*~*~
    Grace watched from her window as the two men laughed and carried in Nolan’s things. He had a credenza that she would have paid a fortune for, if she had a fortune to spend. She sighed. Making ends meet was hard enough without dreaming of furniture that she couldn’t afford.
    Grace measured the cinnamon and the trace bits of nutmeg and ginger she used in her applesauce. With everything ready, she set up her pans. Jugs of apple juice stood ready to add liquid if necessary. She arranged a chair with a Dutch oven on the seat and set up her apple-peeling gadget. She was on her second box of apples before Craig returned.
    “I found you some more hands, Grace. Where do we start?” Craig stood at the sink scrubbing his hands in preparation for a morning of fruit peeling.
    “Why don’t you scrub? Do you mind? The water is really drying out my hands for some reason.”
    Turning to Nolan, Grace smiled her welcome. “We’re happy for the company, and you’re welcome to just sit there and amuse us.” Grace chuckled and went back to turning her apple crank.
    “I can turn that. Why don’t you do something that you don’t trust me with? Peeling fruit would not be a good one. The last time I peeled a potato—well, let’s just say that I’ve seen larger plums than that potato after I was done with it.”
    Grace laughed. “This little jobbie does the peeling for me and doesn’t take off more than I want it to.”
    She showed Nolan how to pull the peel away from the fruit and dump it into her compost bucket. As they worked together, the fruity trio joked, laughed, and the rest of the morning flew past. Before long, the spicy aroma of Grace’s applesauce drifted down the hallway and woke Melanie from her extended nap. They all jumped when her voice called from down the hall, asking what they were having for lunch.
    “And you joke about my bottomless pit.” Craig smiled at his wife as she waddled into the room. He turned to Nolan. “This is Melanie, my wife, and recently she’s become the meal monitor.” Nolan’s chuckle grew deeper as Melanie bopped her husband’s head on her way to the saucepans.
    “I am so exhausted. Did I mention that I’m tired? I want to sleep some more. But, this baby thinks it’s lunch time, and looking at that clock, I must agree with him.” Melanie stood over the stove smelling the delicious aromas and kneading her back with her fists as she tried to work out the kinks of her unbalanced body.
    “Sandwiches anyone?” queried Grace as she mentally calculated the amount of leftover roast in her freezer.
    “Ok, but if you provide lunch, we’re taking you out for our ‘last supper.’ That ok with you, Mel?”
    Craig looked at his wife’s expression before continuing. “You’re welcome to come too, Nolan. We’d love to have you.”
    “Last supper?” Nolan and Grace both waited, confused, for an explanation.
    Melanie smiled. “It occurred to us last night that this baby might arrive any time now. I was due yesterday, so we should go out one last time as a couple without ‘visible’ children.”
    Grace shook her head as Melanie finished her explanation. “That’s a great idea, and I wish I could join you, but I just can’t. I’ll be up until almost midnight as it is, finishing these apples. Tomorrow, after church, I have the peaches to do. They’ll peak by then. I can’t go anywhere until I’ve canned all of this. I can’t afford to lose the fruit or the money from the fruit.”
    Nolan saw through Grace’s words. She wanted her brother to have his ‘last supper’ alone with his wife, and the truth made a