Finally he tipped the mug down and lifted a hand in silent greeting.

She raised hers, too, and felt a peculiar twist inside, a warning. Not Saint Kenny, she thought. Don't even think it.

But his watchfulness made her aware of her long bare legs and short silk wrap and the little she wore under it.

She turned back to the sprinkler, which still wasn't in the right spot. Once more she had to run out between the rows before she got it where she wanted it, high-stepping over the damp plants with her muddy feet and dirt-flecked legs while Kenny watched. The oscillator came back and slapped cold water across her rump. She yelped once and might have heard him laugh-she wasn't sure. Maybe it was just her imagination mingled with overt discomfort at cavorting in her sleepwear while he watched with his toes curled over the edge of the step.

Her feet got thick with mud. She worked them in the grass while standing in place, waiting out two oscillations of the sprinkler to make sure it was covering the garden right. Finally she turned her back on Kenny and made her way up the sidewalk, leaving wet footprints behind. On her way up the steps she felt his eyes still following, and, reaching the top, turned with the screen door half-open, to check. Sure enough-he stood as before, holding his coffee mug at chest height with both hands, not even pretending to disguise his interest. The sun had picked a path between the trees around his house and glanced off the roof of her car like a comet in her eyes. His face, to the right of the reflection, remained inscrutable. He did not move; did nothing more than watch her and make her heart dance as it had not in years, while she wondered foolishly if there had ever been a Sunday morning when Faith's car was parked behind his from the night before.

Silly woman, she thought, that's none of your business.

But when she turned and went inside her heart was still pounding.

At twenty to ten she was heading upstairs to put on her own clothes for church when she saw Kenny and Casey come out of the house dressed in theirs. As they walked single file to the garage Tess realized what she was doing: noting the comings and goings of these people just like any other nosy neighbor.

She went to the ten o'clock service at First Methodist and heard Kenny's choir for the first time. They were passably good, and she could pick out Casey's voice as clearly as if she were singing alone. The choir loft was situated at the rear of the church, and she resisted the urge to crane around and look up there.

She recognized faces all around, and on this particular morning, it felt very fitting to be back again. Reverend Giddings announced from the pulpit that she'd be singing with the choir next Sunday, so everyone knew she was there in the congregation, and a good dozen people in her vicinity turned to smile at her. When the recessional hymn began, she piled into the aisle with everybody else, and people murmured kind remarks about her singing, and how nice it was to have her back home. Some touched her on the arm the way shy hometown folks will do. She smiled, and lifted her eyes to the choir loft, where Kenny had shucked his jacket and was directing in rolled-up white shirtsleeves. Casey caught her eye and waved unobtrusively.

Outside a steady procession of people came up to say hi, to offer congratulations on her successful career and ask if she would be doing any formal autographing while she was in town. Some she knew, some she didn't. Many people inquired after Mary, and wished her a speedy recovery. Judy's and Renee's families had gone to the earlier service, so Tess waited alone for the appearance of Casey and Kenny.

They came out when the crowd was thinning, and though Tess caught sight of both of them, her gaze remained on Kenny. He was resetting the collar of his suit jacket, and unless she was mistaken, searching the crowd for her. The moment their eyes met, his stopped moving and his hands sort of drifted down his lapels as if he forgot what he was doing.

He came directly to her, with Casey one step behind, and spoke anxiously.

"Well, what did you think?"

"Very respectable. I enjoyed the music a lot. I'm looking forward to practice on Tuesday."

"Hi, Mac," Casey said, and they hugged.

"Hi, sugar."

"I thought about our song all night long."

"Jack's going to call me on Tuesday the minute he hears it."

"Oh, great. Listen, some of my friends want to meet you. Would you mind?"

"No. Bring them over."

She brought up two girls who also sang in the choir. When Tess had given them several minutes of polite chitchat, the three girls drifted off, leaving her with Kenny.

"Casey's excited about the song you two finished," he said.

"So am I."

She expected him to express an opinion about her encouraging Casey, but none came. Still, the remarks seemed to leave a blank between them, and he quickly changed the subject, as if to keep her captive a few minutes longer on this beautiful Sunday morning with memories of daybreak still lingering on their minds.

"So you're going to bring Mary home today."

"I've got the pillows all loaded in the backseat of her car."

"Well, I know she's mighty anxious to be back home."

"The truth is, so am I. It got a little lonely around there last night."

Neither of them made mention of the early-morning staring he'd done from his back step while she was jumping cabbage rows in her lingerie. They watched people getting in their cars at the curb and leaving, and realized they had nothing more to say but were lingering for the sake of lingering.

"Well…" she said, glancing at her watch. "I'd better be going. I can spring her anytime after noon."

"Yeah, I'd better find Casey, too. We left a ham cooking in the oven."

There was a parking lot at the rear of the church. When she turned toward it, he turned with her and strolled along at her side, his hands in his trouser pockets. They went around the side of the building past a crab apple tree that was blooming, their footsteps lagging, enjoying the sun on their heads and the simple act of strolling side by side through the lovely spring day. He walked her to Mary's Ford while thirty feet from it Casey and her friends stood talking near someone else's car.

" 'Bye, Mac!" she called, and they all exchanged waves.

Kenny opened the driver's door for Tess just as he had last night for Faith. He did it without hurry-a man who performed courtesies for women without conscious thought.

Tess got in, stuck the key in the ignition, glanced up and said, "Thanks."

The day was so hot and still that the birds had stopped singing. The heat beat up from the blacktop parking lot and from the vinyl car seat as Tess found her sunglasses and slipped them on. In no particular hurry.

She started the engine. In no particular hurry.

Rolled down the window of the open door. In no particular hurry.

She glanced up at Kenny again but couldn't think of a thing to say. The stroll from the church to the car had felt as natural as slipping into the pew had felt earlier. Much to her surprise, she found herself reluctant to leave him.

He acted as if he felt the same. He gave the car door a push with both hands, and said quietly, "See ya."

"Yeah, see ya," she replied, and realized, as she put the car in reverse and glanced in the rearview mirror, that the girls were standing there watching them.

She thought about him too much on her way to the hospital, about him and Casey and Mary, and how Mary loved them both, and about being back home, and this most peculiar lethargy that she was feeling this morning. It was easier to simply keep bumping into him than to avoid him, and each time she did, she lost a few more of her objections to him.

Sometimes it was more than bumping into each other. Like him with his coffee cup this morning. And her waiting till he came out of church after the service. These were not accidental encounters, they were planned.

To what avail?

Mary's car was like a kiln inside. Naturally, it had no air-conditioning, and Tess wondered again what she did with all the money she sent her. She sighed, dried the sweat from beneath her nose with one finger and wished she could return to Nashville tonight. It'd probably be better for everyone involved, she thought, including Kenny Kronek.

She found Mary bathed, dressed and eager to leave.

"Hi, Mom," she said, kissing Mary's cheek.

"Hi, honey."

"This is the day, huh?"

"At last. You got my car downstairs?"

"Right by the door."

"Well, then… let's bust me out."

A girl came in pushing a cart. "For the flowers," she explained, and left it. Tess started loading them up but Mary said, "Before you take them down, will you sign a couple autographs for some of the nurses who didn't get a chance to meet you? I told them you wouldn't mind."

Actually, Tess was in a hurry to get out of there. A hospital was a dreary place on a beautiful spring afternoon, but she signed some papers anyway for the list of names Mary gave her, then finished loading up Mary's flowers. She was surprised to discover separate bouquets from Kenny and Casey, apart from the one Faith had picked and brought over herself. Every day Tess saw more clearly how their lives were intertwined with her mother's.

Getting Mary into the backseat at the hospital proved fairly easy with help there to assist her. Basically, Mary was instructed to do all the work herself, bearing her weight on her hands, which was safer than letting other people try to move her. When she was settled on the pillows with the windows rolled down, they headed home, Mary praising the weather, the beautiful day, and the joy of being released from the hospital. Then she said, "Kenny and Faith came to visit me again last night."