Violet had taken the children to church and convinced Travis to accompany them. She thought he looked grand, but he seemed uncomfortable and ill at ease in the stiff shirt and tie. Everyone, particularly the single ladies, turned their heads, smiled and nodded a greeting as the little family found their way to a pew. The congregation seemed abuzz with the fact the family had had dinner with the rich widow. Well, there wasn’t much else to talk about in this sleepy town, Violet thought as she settled in and smacked Harold for pulling Kessie’s red hair. It seemed hot in the little church, even for June. Paper fans from the local funeral home fluttered at every sweating face as the choir sang “Amazing Grace.” Violet thought the children behaved well. She only once had to tap Houston on the shoulder for poking Harold, and even little Bonnie was quiet as she diligently scribbled on the back of a donation envelope. The windows were open and butterflies and bees drifted in and out of the building as the minister droned on and on, only interrupted by several old men who had dozed off and were snoring.
