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sweatshirt.  “I painted it myself.  I sell them at the art fairs.”
    “ It's beautiful,” Lila answered.
    “ I'll paint one for you.”  When Leona smiled, her cheeks were apple round and her eyes crinkled.
    “ I'd like that.”  Lila couldn't help but return the eager smile.
    “ So sorry, ladies.”  Ada breezed in from the kitchen, her Maids of Honor perched on a white cake stand.  “I was just frosting the cakes.  Is Betsy coming today?”
    The ladies glanced at each other, brows raised at the sight of the delicacy.  “She was out watering her begonias when I drove by.  I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Matilda said.
    Ada carefully arranged the food on the table, along with delicate dishes, flatware, and serving spoons.  There was a knock on the door, and she rushed to answer it.  Betsy Barker bustled in, hair piled high, loud-patterned blouse cut low.  She was ready to compete, with a plate full of fresh strawberry tarts.
    Ada brought in the mint tea, and soon everyone was settled with refreshments.  Lila dragged a folding chair to the corner of the room, then snatched one of the coveted Maids of Honor and sat down to watch as she savored the little cake.  She was curious about Ada's meetings, but hoped to remain as invisible as possible.
    Matilda was eager to begin the day’s proceedings.  “Did you hear about my cousin’s boy, Henry?”  All eyes were on the sisters.  “He was in a horrible motorcycle accident,” Leona said.
    “ It was terrible,” Matilda continued.  “His mother is so broken up.  He was their only boy.  He’d gone kind of wild, you know.  And then he bought that motorcycle.  We were all afraid something like this would happen.”
    They all clucked and nodded their heads.
    “Sheryl Paulsen finally passed away,” Betty began.  “Remember her?  She had that boy that wrote for the newspaper in Papillion.  They thought she was doing so much better.  They took her to the cancer center and everything.  But it came back and she got bad fast.”
    “ Sheryl was a good person,” said Leona.  “She didn't deserve that.  I'd rather go quickly.  Even if it wasn't in a nice way.  He got better than he deserved.”
    The room changed, as if someone had twisted the tuning pegs of a guitar, and a pluck into the air would produce a too-sharp note.  The last bite of Lila's cake stuck in her throat as she tried to swallow it.  Who was he ?
    Matilda nudged Leona sharply.  “You're not supposed to talk about that,” she hissed.  The air felt suddenly chilly, and the ladies wrapped their hands around their soft suede arms or glanced at their jackets hanging by the door, wondering if they ought to have kept them on. 
    They all looked at Ada, who cleared her throat and said in a quiet voice,  “You know, Tabitha Lawrence fell the other morning, just going out to get the paper.  She’s very fortunate she didn’t break a hip, like my cousin Alma did just last month.”  Whispers of agreement went round the room, followed by a chorus of soft leather purses unzipping and bony fingers poking around to find and smooth out their obituary clippings.

Chapter 7
    Sold
     
     
    Lila followed Ada and Gladys up the steps of the First United Methodist Church, carrying two loaves of Ada's homemade bread tightly wrapped in cellophane.  Ada peeked back at Lila over the top of a cake box.  “The auction is always such fun.  You won't believe the things people bring.”
    “I wish I had something to offer,” Lila said.
    “ No one expects you to bring anything, dear,” Ada replied.  “But who knows, maybe you'll pick up a little something for yourself.”
    “ I'm sure I'll find something to bid on.” 
    A woman walked past them, carrying a large purple hat with a stuffed bird attached to the brim.  Gladys pointed to it.  “That would look lovely on you, Lila.  And you know it will be good quality.  Her husband's a taxidermist.”
    Lila clamped her mouth shut,