"Mom, wait! It's…" Tess glanced at the closed garage door. "This is silly… can you stand here and wait while I get your car out? I think we'd better take it instead."

"I think so, too."

"Have you got the keys in your purse?"

"No, they're on the hook beside the door."

Tess ran back to the house and got them, but before getting Mary's car out of the garage she had to move her own. She maneuvered it backward into the cramped alley, left the engine running and got out.

Mary said, "Use the activator on my key chain. I've got a new automatic garage-door opener."

"You do? Wow! Way to go, Mom!"

"Kenny installed it for me."

Tess's exuberance soured. Saint Kenny the Garage Door Installer. What did the guy do, live over here?

The new garage door rolled up smoothly and Tess shimmied into the crowded building beside her mother's sensible five-year-old Ford Tempo, backed it out, got out to transfer Mary's suitcase… and found her mother smiling at Saint Kenny himself, who'd come walking over from across the alley. He was dressed in gray sweats and moccasins and hadn't showered or shaved yet. His brown hair stood in tufts as if shot with a pellet gun. His skin looked rough with morning whiskers. He didn't seem to care.

Tess stood beside her mother's car, motionless and ignored while her Z idled in a rich baritone.

"Morning, Mary," he said pleasantly.

"Good morning. What are you doing up so early?"

"Having coffee. Reading the paper. Saw you out here so I came to see you off. Got everything?"

"My suitcase is still in Tess's car. We were going to take hers but mine is roomier."

"Want me to get it?"

"Well… sure, if you don't mind. She's trying to shuffle both of these cars here and…"

He went to the Z, opened the passenger door and extracted the suitcase from the cramped space behind the seats. He took it to Mary's car, opened the back door and shoved it inside, then opened the front door for her and helped her get in.

"Careful, now," he said while she hung on to the roof with one hand and gingerly fit herself inside.

"Oh, these old bones"-she gave a breathless chuckle-"just don't want to fold up so good anymore." When she was in she peered up at Kenny and said, "I was just telling Tess that if she wants to know where anything is she can ask you. The sprinklers and hose… oh, I forgot about gas for the mower. I think Nicky is going to have to mow while I'm gone, but he doesn't know you have to mix the gas with the oil otherwise it'll-"

"Don't worry about it. I'll see that it gets done."

"The gas can is-"

"I know where the gas can is, Mary, you just worry about getting that new hip." He reached in and squeezed her shoulder. " 'Bye, now, and good luck."

He slammed the door and for the first time that morning looked over the roof of the car at Tess. He could keep his expression as deliberately flat as Tommy Lee Jones. Contrarily, she waited to see if he'd greet her in any way at all. He did not, only let his eyes drop to the word Boss on her chest, then sweep critically over her silver-and-turquoise earrings that shimmered like suspended raindrops at her jaws. Finally he stepped back and waited for her to get in and back the car up.

She threw herself into the driver's seat and slammed the door so hard her eardrums popped. She'd back the car up all right! Right over his damned clumsy feet, if she could!

Ringing an arm along the top of the seat, she shot backward only to discover, to her chagrin, that she had not backed her own car far enough out of the way. Another foot and she'd have hit it. Exasperated, she rammed the Ford into park and threw her door open.

"I'll get it," he said, and headed for the Z.

"Don't bother!" she shouted, a deprecation and an order rolled into one.

He ignored her and got into the forty-two-thousand-dollar black bullet-every man's dream car-leaving her sputtering with anger. The Z moved backwards and waited. All she could do was slam into her mother's Ford and pull ahead to make room for him.

Mary said innocently, "That Kenny is so thoughtful."

Yeah, Tess thought, Saint Kenny the Z Mover. Probably got a hard-on right now, just sitting in the thing.

She rolled down her window and waited, seething, while he veered her car into the slot before the garage, got out and took his sweet old time glancing along the length of the sexy black vehicle that he'd probably give his left nut for. If he had a left nut.

He sauntered over, dropped the keys into her outstretched hand and said, "Nice car."

She retracted her arm like a sprung window shade and took off up the alley with as great a burst of speed as a four-cylinder can muster. (Where was her three-hundred engine when she needed it?)

Reaching the north end of the alley, she glanced in the rearview mirror to find him ignoring her retreat while continuing to ogle her car.

She made a left turn onto Peach Street and her mother said, "You shouldn't be so rude to Kenny, Tess."

"He was rude to me! And nobody touches my car! Nobody!"

"Why, Tess, he was just being helpful."

"If he wants to help me, he can stay out of my way!"

"I don't see what harm it did for him to move your car such a tiny ways. He's a careful man."

"He didn't even ask me! He just…just got in as if it were somebody's old junker! Do you know how much that car is worth? Forty-two thousand dollars, that's how much! And he just couldn't wait to get in it, could he! Probably gonna run all over town telling people he drove it! Nobody but me has ever driven that car! Nobody! I don't even let valets park it!"

Mary was staring at her daughter in dumbstruck surprise.

"Why, Tess."

"Aw, hell, just forget it, Mom. He and I absolutely rub each other the wrong way."

"Why, you've barely spoken to each other. How can you rub each other the wrong way?"

"Mom, I said forget it! Will you?" Tess realized she was yelling but was unable to stop herself.

After a perplexed pause Mary mumbled, "Well, all right… I just…" Her voice trailed off as she turned her face to the side window.

I shouldn't have yelled at her, Tess thought, especially not today. But sometimes she could be so dense! Prattling on about what a good boy Kenny was, totally ignoring the fact that he'd snubbed her for the second time, unaware of how unacceptable it was for him to touch a car worth that much money without permission. She could tell from the silence, and from the way Mary kept her face turned away, that she didn't believe she'd said anything wrong and was trying to figure out why she'd been snapped at.

"Momma?" Mary looked over with hurt in her eyes. Apologies had never come easy to Tess, and this one stayed locked in her mind. "Just forget it, okay?"

They drove on for a while but the silence remained heavy. Outside the sun sat smack in the middle of Highway 160, forcing Tess to slip on her sunglasses. Things here looked the same as always. This was a poor county, Ripley, its chief income generated by transfer payments-Social Security, survivors' benefits, unemployment and welfare checks. Seemed as if half the residents of Ripley County lived in trailer houses. But the land was pretty. Red clay earth, green grass, lots of creeks, a few dogwoods on the fringes of the woods, big patches of yellow buttercups in bloom, rolling Ozark foothills, horse farms and little country churches about every five miles. They passed fields where biscuit-colored cows grazed, and a farm where goats stood on the tin roof of their shelter and a great whiskey-brown turkey fanned its tail and watched them pass. Farther along, they rumbled over the Little Black River, which ran full and brilliant as it was struck by the morning sun.

While they rode, Tess let the beautiful morning do what her absent apology should have done-take the edge off the tension in the car.

Finally she asked, "Want to hear my new song, Momma?"

Mary turned from her absorption with the view, eager to be in Tess's good graces again. "Of course I do."

Tess snapped her tape into the deck and a musical intro came on.

Mary asked, "This the one with the bad note?"

"This is the one."

They rode toward the sunrise with Tess's voice singing about a marriage in jeopardy.

When the song ended Mary said, "Not a thing wrong that I could hear. That's very nice, honey. Will they be playing it on the radio soon?"

"Not till fall. There's another single-maybe two-they're going to release first before the album comes out."

"Has it got a title yet?"

"The album? No, we're still waffling on that. Jack wants me to call it Water Under the Bridge, which is the name of the first single, but the label executives say it makes me sound like I'm water under the bridge. So they don't want that. I kind of wanted to call it Single Girl, from an old Mary Travers song we revamped, but the MCA guys don't want to name it after a song that's been done before, no matter how old it is or how different from our version, so I don't know what's going to happen."

"Single Girl would be appropriate for you, I suppose," Mary remarked.

Tess repressed a sigh of exasperation. "I know you wish I'd get married, Momma, but it's just not practical in my career. And besides, I haven't met anybody."

"Well, what about this Burt?"

They reached the intersection of Highway 67 and Tess turned left toward Poplar Bluff. "I hardly know him. Don't push this, please, Momma. I'm happy doing what I'm doing, and until I'm not, marriage isn't something I'm interested in."

"But you're thirty-five already."

"Meaning what? No children?"

"Well, it's something to think about."