The Widows of Eden by George Shaffner

recommend both this time of year.”
    â€œYou drove here from the county courthouse? It can’t be five blocks.”
    â€œIt’s more like ten when you factor in the heat index, and I’m in heels. I rode over with Dottie. Hang on; Lily is bringing lemonade.” Lily Park Pickett is Buford’s wife. She has been the treasurer of the Quilting Circle for eight years running, and she represents the Circle on the board of Millet’s Department Store along with Hail Mary.
    â€œWhere are Loretta and Bebe?” I asked. Bebe Palouse is the general manager of Millet’s and the best-dressed woman in the Circle, Hail Mary included.
    â€œThey’re on the way,” Dot answered. “While we’re twiddling our thumbs, what’s this I hear about some acquaintances of Vernon’s coming to town? I thought he worked alone.”
    â€œThey’re widows. Mr. Moore says they want to meet his friends.”
    â€œWidows, huh? No disrespect intended, but they’ll be able to meet his friends in a phone booth if he prays for Clem instead of rain. I heard that your fiancé told Buford Pickett to look into your lodger’s identity. Is Mr. Moore aware of that?”
    â€œHe didn’t mention it, but Clem has been to that well twice before. Mr. Moore even tried to help him, but he came up dry anyway.”
    â€œSo his identity is still a mystery.”
    â€œEither that, or he is who he says he is.”
    â€œWhich is what, exactly?” Dottie asked.
    â€œA retired salesman.”
    â€œUh huh, and I’m Shania Twain. I wonder: where’d I put my diamond-encrusted guitar?”
    A tick or two later, the three missing board members filed into the room. Lily had a country-sized pitcher of iced lemonade in one hand and a stack of red plastic tumblers in the other, Loretta was carrying sliced zucchini bread on a red plastic platter, and Bebe had paper plates, paper napkins, and plastic forks.
    Loretta looked me over from head to foot. “You walked, didn’t you?”
    â€œI like to walk. It’s the best exercise a woman can get, and I wore a hat.”
    â€œThat nasty old hat won’t do you a bit of good when it’s four hundred degrees outside, darlin’.”
    Lily handed me a glass of iced lemonade, which I chugged part way. While she and Loretta served everybody else, Hail Mary called the meeting to order. “This is an emergency session of the Quilting Circle board of governors,” she declared. “According to the bylaws, we’re required to dispense with normal business and cut to the case at hand.”
    Lily raised her hand. “I’d like to bring another matter before the board if I may.”
    â€œThat’s against the rules, Lily. What’s it about?”
    â€œBuford.”
    â€œYour husband? That can’t be good. Is it urgent?”
    â€œSorta. It’s about the Bowe place.”
    â€œThe Bowe place? I’d love to talk about it now, but it’s one farm and we have the makings of a countywide catastrophe on our hands. Can we put Buford on the back burner for now?”
    â€œSure,” Lily pouted. “It can wait, I guess.”
    â€œYou’re a dear. Now, just to make sure that we’re all on the same page, would you please repeat what Mr. Moore said to Clem Tucker this morning.”
    â€œI don’t see any way to sugarcoat the situation. Pearline O’Connor says that he’s going to ask for rain or Clem’s life at the end of the week.”
    â€œAnd what did he say to you at lunch, Wilma?”
    I swallowed a bite of zucchini bread and wiped the corners of my mouth. “The same exact thing.”
    â€œYou’re sure he used the word ‘or,’ not ‘and’?”
    â€œHe was very clear, Mary, and he said a deal is a deal. He can’t go back on it.”
    Lily added, “That’s not the worst of it. Clem offered to pay Mr. Moore for his