Mrs. Cormier made a sound I didn't know the human throat could produce.
Mrs. Arceneauxtriedto. Failed. Opened and closed it. She was seething a specific kind of fury — a woman told off by blood and couldn't decide which was worse — the insult or the audience. She turned on her heel and Mrs. Cormier followed, like a tail that couldn’t quite afford the luxury of disobeying an old fury (or maybe old money) like Mrs. Arceneaux. They retreated toward the garden with their dignity held together by sheer force of will.
He watched them go, satisfied, before his eyes landed on me.
“You're new,” he said.
“You're observant,” I said back.
That got a real grin out of him. “Billy Arceneaux.” He straightened, holding his hand out for me.
“Mercy.” I took it and to my surprise — he brought it to his lips and kissed my knuckles.
He grinned against my skin and let go, returning to his previous place, leaning against the car. “Hell of a name.” He looked me over. “You work here?”
“I do.”
“Since when?”
“Monday.”
“He hire you?”
I didn't ask whohewas. We both knew. “Yes.”
“Hm.” He dropped the joint, stepped on it, and pushed off the hood. “How's that going?”
“It's been a week.”
“Long enough to have an opinion.”
“It's fine,” I said. “It's good.”
He looked at me like I'd said something funny. Didn't laugh though. Just filed it away somewhere. “Sure it is.”
The church doors opened behind me.
Judah walked out first. The deacons filtered out around him, dispersing toward the lot, and Sister Ruth gave me a nod on her way past that I couldn't fully read. Then it was just Judah atthe top of the steps, looking down at Billy with an expression I couldn’t read.
“You're early,” Judah said, checking the watch on his wrist.
“I'm on time. You ran long.”
“I told you one o'clock.”
“It is one o'clock. Somewhere.” Billy spread his hands. “I've been communing with nature. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“You've been harassing your aunt.”
“She started it. Easter potluck, 1987. My mother cried.” He glanced at me, back at Judah. “You've met Mercy.”
Something moved through Judah's face. There and gone before I could catch it. “Would be odd if I hadn’t. I hired her.”
“What do you think of her name?” Billy’s grin was stretched wide now. “Mercy,” he tasted it again. “Your department of expertise, is it not,Preacher?”
“God grants mercy,” Judah corrected.
Billy gave him a pointed look. As if saying —sure.
