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friends.
    Terry, by virtue of being one of the best-looking men I had ever seen, was, of course, gay. His hair, newly darkened to follow some fashion trend that I was oblivious to, was crisply styled. His face bore the beginning of a spring tan. He wore a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt, open at the throat, and a pair of khaki shorts brief enough to make most men blush.
    Not Terry, though. He was charmingly incorrigible, both the bane and the blessing of Crawford’s much more dignified existence. Terry folded away a piece of cardboard he’d been holding and patted the recliner beside him.
    â€œCome, sit,” he said. “Tell me the news.”
    The motor home’s awning was unfurled to shade two, now empty, exercise pens. Both held bowls of water. Eve helped herself to a drink and lay down in the shade. I joined Terry in the sun, perching on the edge of the chaise.
    â€œWhat news?”
    â€œI don’t know, anything. ” His grin was cheeky. Terry loved gossip. “Whatever’s new and exciting.”
    â€œFor starters, you’re going to give yourself skin cancer.” I reached over his legs and retrieved the board he’d dropped. Unfolding it, I found what I’d suspected. “A sun reflector? Don’t you know these things went out in the seventies?”
    â€œOh, please. Don’t tell me you actually thought that horrid, pallid, stringy-haired, heroin chic look was going to last? Golden is good. Do I have to teach you everything?”
    â€œMaybe.” A woman could do worse than to get her beauty tips from Terry. As it was, the man already cut my hair. And did a great job of it, too. “What are you guys doing here so early in the week? Has Crawford developed an interest in agility?”
    â€œHardly. The PCA board met yesterday. Crawford’s a member, so he had to be here. It didn’t make sense for us to drive down separately, so we just packed up the dogs a couple of days early and came on down. Which means that I have two days off to loll around and have fun in the sun.” He stretched back out on the lounge chair and turned his young, unlined face back up into the warm rays.
    â€œI have to admit, Terry, you’re one of the best lollers I’ve ever met.”
    â€œIf you’re trying to insult me, doll, you’ll have to try harder than that.” He opened one eye. “However, I think you got that sentence slightly wrong. What you actually meant to say is that I’m one of the best- looking lollers you’ve ever met.”
    The man had absolutely no shame.
    â€œSo what about you and the canine companion?” His hand waved carelessly in Eve’s general direction. “Bitches don’t show until Thursday. What brought you down to Maryland so early in the week? Here’s an educated guess. I’ll bet your aunt roped you into helping out on some god-forsaken committee.”
    â€œAm I that predictable?”
    â€œNot you, Peg. That woman would have the queen of England breeding Poodles instead of those ridiculous Dorgis if only she could get her on the phone. So what does she have you doing? Banquet? Trophies? Hospitality?”
    â€œRaffle,” I admitted. “I spent the morning selling tickets.”
    â€œAhhh. You’re working for the Doublemint twins.”
    â€œYes, except they’re not twins.”
    â€œCould have fooled me. Maybe it’s a southern thing. You know, after so many generations of marrying their own cousins, everyone begins to look alike?”
    I swatted him on his flat stomach. Terry barely flinched. “You’re terrible!”
    â€œOf course I’m terrible. It’s one of the things you like best about me. That and the fact that every time you get yourself into a jam, I wheedle some sort of information out of Crawford and ride to your rescue.”
    â€œYou have never rescued me.”
    â€œIn my dreams, doll. In my dreams.”
    Yeah,