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.By now I never wanted to see another table leg, and AuntMae looked as if she agreed. Aunt Mae, I still don t understand.If you originally got only three legs, where the hell did you find a matching fourth? Don t swear, dear.It was through Rev.Bartles, although, of course it was actually Jared Mather. Aunt Mae, I am missing something here.What the heck are you saying? She was pulling pies out of the refrigerator and putting them into some kind of cake box.Her voice was momentarily muffled, but I got the gist of it. It s quite simple, Alex.I took some soup over to Rev.and Mrs.Bartles for their bunch of homeless kids.I noticed their table was just like this one, but with four legs, so I told them my sad tale.Rev.Bartles said they had had thesame experience. She placed the boxes on the table, where I got the full aroma of their contents.I brought my attention back to legs with difficulty, as she continued. They, too, had called Mr.Wood about getting only three legs, but no fourth legwas sent to them as promised, and there they were with a table propped up on an old rake handle. One broom handle saved, I thought. Then the reverend explained that Jared Mather had been there for some reason.He goes to their church sometimes, I think, although it doesn t seem his type.Anyway, Jared told Rev.Bartles to bring one of the legs out to hishouse his shop and he d make him one just like it.So he did. Mather made Bartles a table leg? Just like that? That s the way I understood it.Jared is terribly good at that sort of thing. Amazing.And he made you one the same way? Not exactly.You see, when I saw Lawrence s Rev.Bartles replacement, I decided to get Jared to make me one.He is a neighbor, and I ve known him forever.I even dated him once or twice when I was a girl he was asserious and solitary then as he is now.But quite the gentleman! No effort at all to get fresh.Rather dull, actually.Of course, then I met your Uncle Frank.Talk about opposites! She gave a happy reminiscent laugh and broughtherself back to the present. Anyway.I took one of the legs off my table and went over to Jared s.I told him my sad tale, and he said he d be happy to make me one.About that time, I noticed what looked like a perfect copy of my table leg tossed on hisscrap heap.I asked why I couldn t just have that one.He said it was his first attempt to make one for Lawrence and it wasn t quite right, that those little knobby things weren t spaced quite correctly, and that the piece of wood wasflawed.I told him it looked fine to me, and the spot wouldn t show if I put that leg in the back. I knew why it might have looked fine to Aunt Mae she was very nearsighted, hated to wear her glasses and traveled a fair portion of life in a pleasant haze. Well, we had a little argument, she chuckled. He s such a perfectionist! But I won.Finally Jared laughed and said all right.Anyhow, he picked it up and washed it off with some solvent.The flaw barely even showed.So Ithanked him and took it along. I glanced at the table and saw no difference in the legs.Any imperfection was hidden by the overhang of the tabletop, but then, I was probably not the perfectionist Jared was. Well, I ll take Bartles his leg anyway, let him knowWood is on the up and up, even belatedly. And get a chance to talk to him, I added silently. Oh, if you re going over there you can do me a big favor, dear.Would you take over these two pies I baked for them? It would save me a trip. I dunno.Do I get a sample? She laughed and cut a slice from one of her already-cut cranapple pies and poured me a cup of strong coffee.Fargo got the outer crust.We lived pretty good, we two.I pulled into Bartles parking area and looked in vain for his ancient, unmistakable van with The Lord Will Always Help stenciled crookedly on the side.I figured His help might indeed be all that held the venerable vehicletogether.I hoped someone was around.I could leave the leg.I didn t know what to do with the pies.Well, actually I did know, but Aunt Mae would kill me.Bartles came around the corner.He was a rather effete youngish man wearing a strained expression. Good morning.May I help you? Good morning.I m Alex Peres.My aunt, Mrs.Cartwright, sent you these two pies, and here s a table leg from Wood s Woods, which I understand you don t really need. Ah. He smiled cordially now. Mrs.Cartwright, a dear lady, and so generous to us! Her contributions of food are very welcome to us, in every way.And how good of you to make the deliveries. My pleasure.I happened to be in Wood s store yesterday, picked up Aunt Mae s replacement leg, plus yours and Mr.Leander s.if you know him? Here, I ll carry the leg in for you. I wasn t about to curtsy and drive away. Thank you.Come on around to the kitchen, if you don t mind.May I offer you coffee? You re very kind.I d enjoy a cup. God, I was beginning to sound like him.We went into a kitchen with dishes from breakfast stacked high in the sink, but basically clean.I wondered why part of a free breakfast didn t includehelping with the washup.He finished clearing the table and we sat down to mugs of exceptionally good coffee. The pies, by the way, are cran-apple, her specialty. He rolled his eyes with pleasure. Oh, we ll all enjoy them tonight! I do hope you re not delivering them because she s not feeling well. He made it a question. Oh, no.She s fine.I just happened to be there and saved her a trip.But I m curious about your table, sir.Aunt Mae told me Jared Mather made you a replacement leg just sort of off the cuff.That sounds almost impossible,even for Jared. Not at all! He was here about a week ago and noticed my makeshift prop.I told him I was giving up hope that Wood would come through for me, and he insisted he could easily duplicate a leg.And, indeed, he did.We wentout to his shop and he made a couple of measurements, picked out a piece of lumber and turned on his lathe.He insisted that his first attempt was imperfect in some way and made a second one.Totally unnecessary, as far as Icould see.But I wasn t going to argue with the expert. He glanced around at the loaded sink. Anyway, thanks again for bringing the other one over.I ll call Wood and tell him I don t need it, in case he wants to pick it up. I think he was ready for the coffee klatch to end.I wasn t. You knew Lewis Schley, didn t you? Bartles had been treating me as if I were a distant but unquestioned member of the Royal Family.Now he looked at me as if I had delivered a ticking package with the words Terrorists, Ltd.featured prominently in the returnaddress. We-e-ell, I guess you could say I knew Lewis.He came here to visit a friend once or twice and stayed to eat.He paid generously for his meals.I talked him into staying for services once.I had hoped to know him better.He was in need of much help. I m glad to hear he wasn t cadging meals.He had a well-paying job and a nice enough room over the garage where he worked although he made pretty much a mess of it.So why did you think he needed help? There are many kinds of help, Ms.Peres.The life Lewis was leading Oh, yes, of course.Now I follow you. I didn t want to get off on that tangent! You know Lewis was on his way over here Saturday night the night he was killed.In fact, I heard him say to a friend that he was going to get a mealat the Rev s
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