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to the lack of rain. I can have two hundred trucked in from Lincoln by noon tomorrow, as long as they’re Cornhusker red.”
    â€œThat’s unbudgeted overhead,” Lily grumbled. “How much will it cost?”
    â€œFive dollars each in quantity, six tops. I’ll sell them to the Circle at my cost.”
    Loretta chimed in, “I second Bebe’s proposal. Considering the return on investment, I think the purchase of an umbrella policy is dirt cheap.”
    After we voted four to two in favor of Bebe’s proposal, Hail Mary reckoned, “We still have to decide what to do with all the people who want Vernon’s personal attention.”
    â€œSend out a Buzzword, Mary,” Dottie said. “Tell the girls to pipe down or Vernon will head for the hills. That’s what I’d do if half the county wanted me to cure their irritable bowel syndrome or whatever.”
    â€œOkay. If that’s what it takes, I’ll send out a Buzzword. Maybe it’ll buy us enough time to find a real solution. I have one last matter to table before we adjourn …”
    â€œWhat about Buford?”
    â€œJust hang on a minute, Lily. As I recall, the board convened about one emergency meeting per day the last time Vernon was in town. I’d like to avoid repeating that mistake. Let’s schedule the next one in advance. I suggest Wednesday morning, early, say seven thirty. That’s a day and a half from now. Can Buford’s latest scheme wait until then?”
    It took some cajoling, but Lily caved in. After we adjourned, she huddled in the corner with Mary, Dottie, and Bebe to talk about e-mails, budgets, and umbrellas. Meanwhile, I lost at rock, scissors, paper to Loretta, which meant that dinner would be at my house.
    It was my turn to clean up after the meeting — with Lily, who wasn’t in her chattiest mood. As we were heading down the hall toward the exit, I asked, “Is everything okay?”
    â€œMy husband runs the local bank,” she replied. “I have two wonderful sons, a Nicaraguan nanny, and a new SUV with a DVD player. My life is picture damned perfect.”
    â€œDo you want to talk about it?”
    â€œNo. It’s the last thing I want to talk about.” That may have been a sincere answer, but it was impermanent. When we got to the front door, Lily stopped and said, “If you had to do it all over, would you marry your first husband again?”
    â€œI would if it was the only way to have my daughters.”
    â€œWhat if you could’ve picked them up at Kmart or a place like that?”
    â€œThen I would have kicked the bastard in the jewels and fled to Idaho.”
    â€œIs that why you never married Clem?”
    â€œIndirectly. I learned from my first go-round that a fiancé is sweet and surprising, but a husband is dour and disappointing. I’ll take a fiancé every time, thank you very much. Even now, after four years of engagement, Clem still surprises me sometimes …”
    â€œNo shit,” Lily said abruptly, then she pushed open the door and walked out by herself.
    I’ve seen so many marriages go down the chute over the years, including my own and my eldest daughter’s, that I’ve become an expert on the indicators. Lily tried to put Buford on the agenda, even though it was against the rules. Since nominations for Drone of the Year — excuse me, I meant Spouse of the Year — weren’t due for three months, that was probably an indicator. Lily was also testy throughout the meeting, particularly toward Loretta, the woman who married her former boss. Lily had a crush on Calvin for years, so that was an indicator, too.
    Then she asked about my failed marriage. That was indicator number three.

Chapter 8
    Â 
    L ADY B E G OOD
    M R . M OORE WALKED BACK to the Come Again from the Angles House despite the scorching heat. He should have been sweating like a cigar thief in a Cuban jail when he