them up, along with her engagement and wedding rings, and save them for Maggy, who loved bling.
As she searched the case for her pearl earrings, Riley spotted the amber-colored pill bottle Parrish had pressed into her hand the night before. “Here. I think you’re gonna need this.”
“You know I don’t like drugs,” Riley said hastily, trying to give the bottle back.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Who doesn’t like drugs? Anyway, it’s not like it’s quaaludes or meth, honey,” Parrish said. “It’s just a little something to take the raw edge off your nerves tomorrow.”
“Isn’t that why God invented wine?”
“Wine is for after the service,” Parrish said. “And I promise, I’ll have plenty for you back at my house afterward. But you need to dose yourself with these an hour beforehand if you want to survive this ordeal with your wits intact.”
Riley was fastening the pearl necklace when Maggy burst into the room. Her daughter was wrapped in a towel, and her hair was dripping wet.
“What’s this supposed to be?” Maggy brandished a pale purple frock.
“A dress?”
“I get that it’s a dress, Mom, okay? When I got out of the shower just now I found it laid out on my bed.”
Riley took the dress and frowned. It was a girlish lavender floral print, with a deep ruffle at the hem and a high neckline. She held it up to her daughter. The hem hit Maggy two inches below the knees. It reminded Riley of something from Little House on the Prairie. All it needed was a matching sunbonnet.
“I think I know what this is about,” Riley said. She walked out into the hallway and hollered, “Mama!”
Evelyn popped her head out of her bedroom door. “I’m right here, Riley. You don’t have to shout.”
Riley held out the dress. “Do you know anything about this?”
Evelyn’s face softened. “Isn’t it darling? I knew Maggy didn’t have anything suitable to wear to her daddy’s service, and there wasn’t time to take her shopping in Wilmington. Frieda Heard orders all her grandchildren’s clothes from this online store. I had to guess at Maggy’s size and pay extra for overnight shipping, but I think it’s perfect, don’t you?”
“Perfect?” Maggy shrieked. “It’s hideous. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that thing.”
Evelyn turned her head and gave Riley an expectant look.
“Would you please explain to your child that it’s rude to speak to her elders like that?”
“I will. But in the meantime, I really don’t think this dress is right for her.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Evelyn asked, stepping out of her bedroom wearing a severely cut long-sleeved black dress. “I’ll have you know I paid a hundred and seventy-five dollars for that dress.”
“If you like it so much, you wear it,” Maggy retorted.
“Margaret? That’s enough,” Riley said. “Take the dress and go to your room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I’ll go,” Maggy muttered. “But I am not wearing that rag.”
When she’d heard the bedroom door slam, Riley returned to the subject at hand. “I’m sorry Maggy was disrespectful. She’s obviously upset. But about the dress. It’s at least two sizes too big, and it’s not her style at all. She’s twelve, Mama, not four.”
“Fine,” Evelyn snapped. “I was just trying to help.” She started to walk away, but Riley caught the sleeve of her mother’s dress.
“I know you were, Mama, and I really do appreciate all you’ve done for Maggy and me. So let’s try not to fuss at each other so much. Especially today. Okay?”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Evelyn said, turning a critical eye to her daughter. “But it’s already after two. Don’t you think it’s time for you to change before we leave for the chapel?”
Riley found the pill bottle right where she’d left it, on her dresser. She swallowed two tablets and tucked the bottle in her pocketbook, along with her grandmother’s red leather-bound Bible. “Help me, sweet Jesus,” she whispered.
* * *
“Maggy!” Riley stood in the main floor hallway at the bottom of the staircase. Evelyn was already waiting outside in the golf cart, tooting the horn every thirty seconds. “We need to leave for church now. Right now!”
“Coming!”
Maggy walked slowly down the stairs. She was wearing an old dress of her mother’s, which Riley had rigged to fit with strategically placed safety pins and duct tape. And over the dress she wore her father’s old pinstriped dress shirt. The shirt was buttoned and there was a suspicious, wriggling bulge in front.
“You look very nice,” Riley said. “What’s that you’ve got under your shirt?”
“I had a