voice, Betsy stood up as Dallas entered the bedroom.
“Dallas? Oh, yes, you were here, right? How rude of me to go to sleep.”
Dallas wanted to hug her, but there was something about the way Betsy was standing that told Dallas not to push her.
“It’s actually time to work your bread. I was going to do it, but since you’re up I thought you might want to do it yourself.”
Betsy blinked, and just like that she was back. She smoothed the hair away from her face and slipped into her shoes.
“Yes, the bread! I love that first rising when you go to punch it down, don’t you? It’s like popping a big rubber balloon! Let’s get that bread in the baking tins and then make something for lunch, okay? You can stay, right?”
Dallas smiled. “I’d love to have lunch with you.”
Betsy patted Dallas’s cheek as she sailed past her on her way back to the kitchen. She knew what to do now. She had purpose.
A short while later Betsy had the dough in the pans and was covering them up for the last rising. Dallas was heating up some soup Betsy had taken out of the freezer when they heard the front door open.
“It’s me!” Trey yelled.
“We’re in here,” Betsy called. Then she looked at Dallas and smiled. “Good thing we got the big carton out to reheat. Trey loves beef-and-barley soup.”
Dallas smiled and kept stirring. When Trey walked into the kitchen he went straight to her.
“Hey, honey, thanks for coming over,” he said softly, and kissed the back of her neck.
Dallas nodded and then glanced toward Betsy, who was already getting out the ingredients to make grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the soup.
“Something sure smells good,” Trey said. “I hope you made enough for me.”
“Always,” Betsy said. “One sandwich or two?”
Trey kissed her cheek and smiled. “One is enough, thanks. What can I do to help?”
“You can set the table. You know where everything is, right?”
“Sure,” Trey said. He began getting plates and bowls from the cabinet, and flatware from a drawer.
“Can you talk about the case?” Dallas asked.
Trey shrugged. “Not much to tell right now. It was a bad scene. Mack is in about the same shape you were when I called you.”
Dallas sighed. “I am so sorry. This is just a horrible thing to have happened.”
Trey glanced at his mother. She was far too cheerful. “Mom?”
Betsy flipped the two sandwiches on the grill and then looked up. “What, honey?”
Trey stopped what he was doing and walked over to the stove, took the spatula from her hand and then wiped away the tears running down her face.
“Come sit. I’ll do the last sandwich,” he said.
Betsy complied without comment.
Dallas turned off the heat under the soup.
“Should I dish up the soup or wait?” she asked.
“Wait until I get the last sandwich grilled,” Trey said as he took the finished sandwiches off the grill and put on the last one.
“Betsy, honey, would you like a cup of coffee?” Dallas asked.
Betsy wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking in her chair.
“Does it feel cold in here to you? For some reason I’m freezing,” she said.
“I’ll turn up the heat,” Dallas said, and headed for the thermostat in the hall.
Trey glanced toward the table. His mom had lost all color in her face.
“Mom?”
Betsy looked up. “Hmm?”
“What’s happening?”
She shivered again. “I don’t know, Trey, but I think I’m losing my mind.”
Trey flipped the sandwich and turned off the grill, then handed Dallas the spatula as she walked back into the kitchen.
She moved to the grill as Trey sat down beside his mother and took her hands. Her skin was clammy, and he could feel the tremor in her muscles.
“Talk to me, Mama. You told Dallas you threw up in the floorboard of a car.”
Betsy touched the scar again. “I just dreamed that, didn’t I?”
Trey shrugged. “I don’t know. Was it a dream, or were you remembering something that already happened?”
Betsy
“Dallas? Oh, yes, you were here, right? How rude of me to go to sleep.”
Dallas wanted to hug her, but there was something about the way Betsy was standing that told Dallas not to push her.
“It’s actually time to work your bread. I was going to do it, but since you’re up I thought you might want to do it yourself.”
Betsy blinked, and just like that she was back. She smoothed the hair away from her face and slipped into her shoes.
“Yes, the bread! I love that first rising when you go to punch it down, don’t you? It’s like popping a big rubber balloon! Let’s get that bread in the baking tins and then make something for lunch, okay? You can stay, right?”
Dallas smiled. “I’d love to have lunch with you.”
Betsy patted Dallas’s cheek as she sailed past her on her way back to the kitchen. She knew what to do now. She had purpose.
A short while later Betsy had the dough in the pans and was covering them up for the last rising. Dallas was heating up some soup Betsy had taken out of the freezer when they heard the front door open.
“It’s me!” Trey yelled.
“We’re in here,” Betsy called. Then she looked at Dallas and smiled. “Good thing we got the big carton out to reheat. Trey loves beef-and-barley soup.”
Dallas smiled and kept stirring. When Trey walked into the kitchen he went straight to her.
“Hey, honey, thanks for coming over,” he said softly, and kissed the back of her neck.
Dallas nodded and then glanced toward Betsy, who was already getting out the ingredients to make grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the soup.
“Something sure smells good,” Trey said. “I hope you made enough for me.”
“Always,” Betsy said. “One sandwich or two?”
Trey kissed her cheek and smiled. “One is enough, thanks. What can I do to help?”
“You can set the table. You know where everything is, right?”
“Sure,” Trey said. He began getting plates and bowls from the cabinet, and flatware from a drawer.
“Can you talk about the case?” Dallas asked.
Trey shrugged. “Not much to tell right now. It was a bad scene. Mack is in about the same shape you were when I called you.”
Dallas sighed. “I am so sorry. This is just a horrible thing to have happened.”
Trey glanced at his mother. She was far too cheerful. “Mom?”
Betsy flipped the two sandwiches on the grill and then looked up. “What, honey?”
Trey stopped what he was doing and walked over to the stove, took the spatula from her hand and then wiped away the tears running down her face.
“Come sit. I’ll do the last sandwich,” he said.
Betsy complied without comment.
Dallas turned off the heat under the soup.
“Should I dish up the soup or wait?” she asked.
“Wait until I get the last sandwich grilled,” Trey said as he took the finished sandwiches off the grill and put on the last one.
“Betsy, honey, would you like a cup of coffee?” Dallas asked.
Betsy wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking in her chair.
“Does it feel cold in here to you? For some reason I’m freezing,” she said.
“I’ll turn up the heat,” Dallas said, and headed for the thermostat in the hall.
Trey glanced toward the table. His mom had lost all color in her face.
“Mom?”
Betsy looked up. “Hmm?”
“What’s happening?”
She shivered again. “I don’t know, Trey, but I think I’m losing my mind.”
Trey flipped the sandwich and turned off the grill, then handed Dallas the spatula as she walked back into the kitchen.
She moved to the grill as Trey sat down beside his mother and took her hands. Her skin was clammy, and he could feel the tremor in her muscles.
“Talk to me, Mama. You told Dallas you threw up in the floorboard of a car.”
Betsy touched the scar again. “I just dreamed that, didn’t I?”
Trey shrugged. “I don’t know. Was it a dream, or were you remembering something that already happened?”
Betsy
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