Free Revolutions of the Heart by Marsha Qualey Page B

this?”
    “A friend of mine. Harvey MacNamara. Mac.” Cory stepped behind the minister. “Bikini briefs,” she mouthed silently.
    Mac’s eyes widened. Cory could tell he was fighting back a smile. He offered his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Pastor Lunden.”
    “Oh, I do prefer first names. Kathleen, please.” She turned and hugged Cory. “I’ll be thinking of you.” Then she was gone.
    “And I’ll be thinking of you,” said Cory, “in bikini briefs.”
    “My idea worked?”
    “Perfectly, especially when I thought about how you’d enjoy her preaching. I didn’t shed a tear.”
    “You can, you know. It’s okay.” He stroked her cheek with a finger. “I’m so sorry about your mother.” His voice cracked slightly, and he bit his lip.
    Cory hugged him. She didn’t care who might be watching.
    They decided to get food and found Sasha and Tony grazing around the table. “I found him on the deck,” said Sasha, “where your brother and his friends have opened up a cooler of beer.”
    “Can you imagine? Beer on my mother’s burial day!”
    “Whatever gets you through,” said Mac. “Where’s Mike? I really should speak to him before I sit down and eat.”
    “He took someone to the front deck,” said Sasha, “to show how he converted it to a three-season porch.”
    Mac excused himself. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
    “He is so polite,” said Sasha as she watched him work his way through the crowd.
    “Has your brother met him yet?” Tony asked Cory.
    “No. He knows I’m going with someone, but they’ve never met.”
    “It might be interesting.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    Tony spooned ripe olives onto his plate. “Evidently the tribe has designated Summer Lake as a spearing site. The guys on the deck were pretty heated up.”
    “You mean your dad was,” said Sasha.
    Tony shrugged. “He’s been the town racist for years and always gets wound up.” He smiled at Sasha. “That’s where I get it from.”
    “You didn’t inherit that part, Tony,” she said. “You have a good heart.”
    “They were talking about staging protests again,” Tony went on. “Rob and some of the others have built up a head of steam. Does he know your boyfriend is an Indian?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe not.”
    “It might not be a bad idea to get him settled down before he actually meets Mac. Just a suggestion.” Cory went to find her brother. A large group of men had collected on the deck. They were all working on cans of beer. She stood behind her brother, waiting for him to finish an anecdote about the road crew that had the other men shaking their heads and swearing. Rob had gone to the barber the day before in preparation for the funeral. No more ponytail to tweak. When the story was finished, she tapped him on the shoulder. He saw her standing behind him, put down his beer, and hugged her tightly.
    “It hasn’t been too bad today, has it?” he said. “Good friends help.”
    “Rob, would you come inside? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
    “Great news, Cory,” he said as he followed her into the kitchen. “Fred Strickler says my name has come to the top of the hire list for the plant and that I should be taken on within a few weeks. Mike says we can move in here for a while. Lord Almighty, no more road tar and working in the sun. I’m coming home, kid.” His face was radiant.
    “That is good news, Rob. But you can’t have my room for your weights.”
    “Won’t need it. In a few months we’ll have our own place. And then let the babies start rolling out!”
    “You are sad, Robbie. Elaine’s only twenty-one. Let her get a life first.”
    “She thinks I am her life.”
    His smiling face rekindled her sadness. “Rob, you look so much like Mom.”
    “No. She was never this pretty.”
    “That’s true. You got it all didn’t, you? Blond hair and curls. I can’t believe you cut it off.”
    “I don’t miss it.”
    “If you aren’t going to wear the tail, maybe you