Brandon Westlake wandered in and was overjoyed at the news of the upcoming sale. He and Fred began chattering away about past bargains found and Internet profits reaped. One was as bad as the other. Cynthia managed a smile as she cleaned and stacked the utensil carnage from her baking frenzy while Dean sipped his coffee in silence, content to spend a few quiet minutes before the swarm of guests descended in earnest. He didn't have long to wait.

All four Dawkinses were seated at the breakfast table by seven and bending over backwards to be nice to one another when Dean delivered a tray of pastry. Paul and Paulette babbled about Telluride and how they wanted an early start for the fifty-mile trip on this summer sunshine morning. Joseph, smiling for the first time in Dean's memory, said he and Ginger planned to walk about town and perhaps hike up to the nearby Box Canyon waterfall. If that were the case, Dean wondered, why had Joseph also rented a Jeep and parked out of sight behind Bird Song?

When the first wave of guests were satiated and Maria on board to do duty with the next horde, Cynthia surprised her husband further by changing into a dress and asking if he wanted to accompany her to church. He quickly agreed and the two strolled, for the first time since Christmas, to St. Daniel's Catholic Church, a few blocks away. The service was a most pleasant experience. Even the sermon by the personable priest had an appropriate message of listening before pronouncing judgment. Dean was feeling more comfortable that Cynthia just needed time to get her priorities in line.

After leaving the church, amid handshakes and greetings from town friends, the couple was surprised to meet Pumpkin Green. He seemed compelled to explain his presence as he accompanied them back to Bird Song.

"I always hit a different church when I'm on the road. This week it's the Catholic's turn. This sermon was better than most, but I really dig the rowdy stomping ones you get in the black churches."

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Cynthia confessed they didn't attend as often as they should- as much as she did when her son was at home.

"You guys have a kid?" Pumpkin asked. Cynthia explained this was a second marriage and her first husband had died.

"I have a son about your age," Cynthia said. She opened her purse and took out a picture of Randy Byrne and Jen.

"What's with the knapsack?"

"He was hiking the Appalachian Trail."

"Kind of like me, huh?" She frowned and in a burst of unusual and caustic candor, explained how her son's life was much more complicated as he was about to become a father, baseball player and chuck his education and-although she didn't say it-mess up his life.




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