Bartholomew, you look peaked to sister and me.”“I’m not getting enough sex.” Bo tosses this out slouched down in an easy chair, his Sunday-best cowboy boots stretched toward the fireplace.We are sitting in Violet’s side of the sisters’ duplex. Maizie’s side, as I have seen during a previous visit, is too crammed full of furniture moved from the ranch house to allow family gatherings, such as this Christmas Day dinner. Maizie continues with her analysis of Bo’s color.“That’d do it—wouldn’t it, sister? Violet and I always look peaked. Course that’s attractive in a lady. Men see that and want to help.”With our wine, cheese, and crackers, we wait in Violet’s living room for O.C. to arrive. Though still in a brace from his knee surgery and using a cane, he refused offers to pick him up.Violet says, “In a man, howsomever, it appears suspicious. A lady has to ask herself: What’s the problem here?” She pauses to study that question a moment. “I think body odor first.”“That’s indelicate, Violet.
