Free All Hat by Brad Smith Page B

looked at the bills again, mentally aligned them in order of priority. Going off-line, she sat back and stared at the monitor until the screensaver appeared.
    Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah, it advised.
    Indeed.
    She was still in the chair when Father Tim Regan walked in, wearing a windbreaker and carrying a brand-new Bible.
    â€œI said hello!” he said.
    Etta straightened with a start. She reached forward to turn the computer screen off, got to her feet. She wasn’t thrilled to see the priest; his visits were growing more frequent. Etta had Mabel Anton to thank for that.
    â€œHi, Tim,” she said. “I guess I was out of it.”
    â€œI guess you were.”
    â€œI need a coffee,” she told him.
    In the kitchen Etta took the bowl of sodden cereal from the table and dumped it in the garbage. She made a pot of coffee while Regan sat at the old pedestal table and watched her. The Bible was on the table. Once, turning to the fridge, she thought he was looking at her ass, but she couldn’t be sure. Tim Regan was handsome, a boyish forty-one, and a charming man. There were people who thought that he was gay, but that was probably a preconceived stereotype more than anything. She’d never felt that he had any interest in sex at all. He’d never flirted with her.
    When the coffee was ready she carried the pot to the table and brought out cups and cream.
    â€œWhat are you doing in this neck of the woods?” she asked as she sat down.
    Regan poured cream into his cup. “Just passing by. I thought I’d stop and see how things were going.”
    â€œFine as frog’s hair, as the old folks say.”
    â€œI just saw Homer. How’s he doing?”
    â€œDepends on what day it is. Did he speak to you?”
    â€œHe swore at me for parking on the lawn.”
    â€œWell, he’s pretty much back to normal.” She smiled at him, and they drank their coffee.
    â€œSo what’re you really doing here?” she asked.
    He shrugged. “I worry about him. And you, too. Especially when I see you sitting, staring at a blank computer screen. How are you making it?”
    â€œI work three nights a week at the hospital in town. Nurse’s aide, twelve-hour shifts. Mabel didn’t tell you this?”
    Regan smiled. “She told me. And that she comes in and looks after Homer.”
    â€œMust have been tough getting all that out of her.”
    â€œShe has a good heart, Etta.”
    â€œShe’s a busybody, is what she is. She’s decided to save my soul, and apparently she’s signed you up to help.”
    â€œShe cares about you. She thinks you’re falling behind. Did your father pay the taxes?”
    â€œYou’re as nosy as Mabel, padre. The taxes will be fully paid, thank you very much.”
    â€œThen you’ll borrow the money to pay them.” Regan hesitated, then pushed the new Bible toward her. “I brought you this. Thought I might see you and Homer at church.”
    â€œThat what you thought?” she asked, smiling. She picked up the Bible. “And you think I’m in need of this?”
    He shrugged. “Better to have it and not need it than the other way around.”
    She let go of the smile and looked away from him. Out the window, she could see Homer in the yard, making his way back to the house. He seemed unsteady on his feet.
    â€œSometimes he mistakes me for my mother,” she said. “And when he does, he thinks he’s entitled to his conjugal rights.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œLuckily, he’s not that strong anymore. Or it could be a problem.”
    â€œBut eventually he will be a problem. He can’t be any help to you around here.”
    â€œNot a lot,” she admitted. She looked at him. “Sonny Stanton’s been bugging Dad to sell him the farm. Seems Sonny’s bent on becoming a gentleman farmer. Although I doubt either word applies with him.”
    â€œMaybe you should consider