Midge and Helen sat together at the funeral service. There were two houses between them and that’s about as far apart as anyone ever saw the old spinsters.
Midge shuffled uneasily in her seat. “Think she’ll show?”
Helen turned to her, “Not a chance.”
Midge looked straight ahead. “She was at the last one.”
“Yeah, well, that was different. Tim was the fragile sensitive twin. Everyone liked him.”
Midge looked for something in her pocketbook. “But he killed himself. That’s not a Christian thing to do.”
“Stop fidgeting, Midge.”
She closed her pocketbook. “I wish they’d start. First Tim, and now Tom. So sad. We watched those boys grow up.”
Helen let out a long sigh. “Yes, Tim’s death was sad.”
“What about Tom?”
Helen composed herself before she spoke. “Now don’t go telling me it is not Christian to speak ill of the dead, but you watched Tom grow up, same as me. Trouble with a capital T.” Helen paused, waiting for Midge to interrupt her, but it didn’t happen. “You know full well the beatings he gave that poor girl. The whole town looked the other way for years. All because they were the preacher’s sons.”
“Helen!” Midge said, a little too loud. Heads turned around and looked at the pair. “Oops.”
Helen looked straight ahead, staying above the fray. When the heads returned facing forward, Helen continued. “She got even didn’t she? Got tired of the beatings and took up with his twin brother. That had to hurt more than her bruised cheek.”
Midge opened and closed her pocketbook again. “Do you think she could’ve known Tim would kill himself when she left him?”
Helen stared at Midge until she stopped fidgeting. “I don’t see how. Any more than she could have seen Tom taking up heavy drinking when she left him.”
“I guess,” Midge said. “You think maybe he killed himself too, or wanted to? Driving that fast on the swamp road.”
“I don’t know. Bound to happen sooner or later with his behavior.
Midge shifted in her seat. “Think she’ll show?”
Helen shook her head. “Not a chance.”
Midge shuffled uneasily in her seat. “Think she’ll show?”
Helen turned to her, “Not a chance.”
Midge looked straight ahead. “She was at the last one.”
“Yeah, well, that was different. Tim was the fragile sensitive twin. Everyone liked him.”
Midge looked for something in her pocketbook. “But he killed himself. That’s not a Christian thing to do.”
“Stop fidgeting, Midge.”
She closed her pocketbook. “I wish they’d start. First Tim, and now Tom. So sad. We watched those boys grow up.”
Helen let out a long sigh. “Yes, Tim’s death was sad.”
“What about Tom?”
Helen composed herself before she spoke. “Now don’t go telling me it is not Christian to speak ill of the dead, but you watched Tom grow up, same as me. Trouble with a capital T.” Helen paused, waiting for Midge to interrupt her, but it didn’t happen. “You know full well the beatings he gave that poor girl. The whole town looked the other way for years. All because they were the preacher’s sons.”
“Helen!” Midge said, a little too loud. Heads turned around and looked at the pair. “Oops.”
Helen looked straight ahead, staying above the fray. When the heads returned facing forward, Helen continued. “She got even didn’t she? Got tired of the beatings and took up with his twin brother. That had to hurt more than her bruised cheek.”
Midge opened and closed her pocketbook again. “Do you think she could’ve known Tim would kill himself when she left him?”
Helen stared at Midge until she stopped fidgeting. “I don’t see how. Any more than she could have seen Tom taking up heavy drinking when she left him.”
“I guess,” Midge said. “You think maybe he killed himself too, or wanted to? Driving that fast on the swamp road.”
“I don’t know. Bound to happen sooner or later with his behavior.
Midge shifted in her seat. “Think she’ll show?”
Helen shook her head. “Not a chance.”
