Troy drove, Harper rode shotgun, and Quentin brought up the rear, occasionally kicking the back of Harper’s seat as he tried to situate himself in the back of his brother’s sports car. A morning radio show played softly. An awkward veil had dropped down over them. Everyone had felt it after the men had returned from church the previous afternoon. Harper had surprised them with a supper of chicken and sausage gumbo, red beans and rice with a peach dump cake for dessert. She’d set the table for them to eat and had been excited to see Quentin when they’d returned. But he’d been quiet and distant, blaming his demeanor on a headache. Her skills in the kitchen had caught Quentin by surprise but both had found it uncomfortable when Troy had teased her about making some guy a good wife someday. Quentin hadn’t considered that she might someday want a relationship with any guy. He found the thought disturbing. After the meal, Quentin had disappeared down to the bakery and had never returned.
