heavily. "Barrett has never been able to see the divorce as anything but Martin walking out on us, though Barrett was in high school when we separated. He never saw that if Martin needed to be away from me, I needed just as much to be away from him."
I tried to look interested and understanding. I was, to some extent, but I was also thinking my arms would fall off at the shoulders from the burden of holding this baby. I sort of half laid Hayden on the glass-topped counter. "Just before and after her marriage, Regina used to come talk to me," Cindy went on in a low voice, while through the front window I observed Dennis and Martin continue their pantomime of checking the weather and kicking the tires, or whatever guys do when women have embarrassed them. "Aurora, there's something wrong with that girl. She's got some moral blind spots. Craig's brushes with law seemed to make no difference to her whatsoever, and the fact that Rory went everywhere with Craig - and I mean everywhere - didn't seem to give her any pause." Hayden's Binky rolled from his mouth. Even as he made some fussy protest, Cindy caught it in her hand before it hit the floor and popped it back into the little mouth. Hayden lapsed back into semiconsciousness. "What do you mean?" I asked cautiously. "Good catch, by the way." "Thanks. I guess I mean Regina never seemed to make a moral judgment about the trouble Craig got into, he and Rory. She never said, 'Oh, no, my husband has done a bad thing, writing those worthless checks.' Or 'My God, my husband uses illegal drugs!' And she never tried to defend him either... pretend he was set up, or he was simply innocent. It was like it was just a lark, you know? Just fun. And ah-oh, Craig got caught!"
I'd always just thought Regina was intellectually stupid. According to Cindy, she was morally stupid as well.
"Thanks for warning me, Cindy," I said. I took a deep breath and tried a social smile. "Dennis seems very nice."
"Oh..." she paused, eyed me sideways in a significant way. "He is." We both started laughing, and Cindy opened the door for me. At the sound of the bell, the men both turned with relief apparent on their faces. Martin unlocked the Mercedes.
"You might want to call Margaret and Luke Granberry when you get out to the farm," Dennis suggested. "They've owned the one next door for a few months. Luke pretends to farm, and Margaret pretends to farm right along with him. They're really living on income from a trust, but they're trying to put a back-to-nature spin on it."
"They're very nice," Cindy agreed. "She's the kind of woman who loves to help out."
Martin and I nodded our thanks for the information, went through the interminable process of buckling Hayden in his seat, and finally were back on the street.
I took a deep breath. "Martin," I began.
"Roe," he forestalled me. "Listen, I know, I'm sorry. I had no right to tell Barby your problems. I was just - unhappy that you were unhappy, and she asked me over the phone one night how you were. I just... overstepped my bounds." "Yes."
"You and Cindy were having your difficulties, weren't you?"
"We're okay now, Martin. I don't want to go relate our whole conversation."
"You and Cindy are at peace?"
"Yes."
"What about you and me?"
"Unless you ask me first, never tell anyone about my female problems. Never."
"I promise."
"Okay. We're all right."
"You don't sound altogether all right."
"Don't push it."
We stopped at Dylan Graham's house next. After the squalor of the Harbors' place, Craig's brother's home was almost painfully respectable. It was small, and on a street of small houses. But every yard was neat, and Dylan's house in particular was freshly painted and shiny. The only disorder, if you could call it that, was the scattering of toys visible in the little backyard. I remembered Rory telling us that Dylan and his wife had a little girl. Rory, come to think of it, had been full of information, of the less-than-valuable-and-pertinent kind.
Martin went to the front door and knocked. After a long pause, the door opened, and a young woman began talking to Martin. At first her face looked suspicious and tight, but gradually she seemed to relax. She was plump and plain and friendly, with a small mouth, pale freckled skin, and crinkled light brown hair that was cut in bangs in