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Chapter Thirteen
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Ellamae had come over to Désirée's and Amos's little white house, ostensibly to help with the housework. They were washing and drying dishes and chattering when the doorbell rang.
Désirée, in the middle of scouring out a dirty pot, said, "Could you get that, honey? My hands are kind of full."
Ellamae set down the dish she was drying, and the towel. She walked over to the front door.
There was a police officer there, and something about his demeanor said that he did not bear good news.
"Mrs. Godfrey?"
"She's in the kitchen, washing dishes. Come on in."
Désirée had rinsed and dried her hands, and came into the living room. She shook the officer's hand. "Hi, I'm Désirée."
"Officer Rick. Would you be willing to sit down for a second?"
With trepidation, Désirée sat down in the armchair. Ellamae perched on the edge of the couch.
"Following up on a call, we found your husband's car in a ditch by the roadside. The windows were broken, and the n-word was spray painted all over the sides."
Désirée brought her hand to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears. She suddenly looked like a very small woman in a very big chair.
Ellamae closed her eyes in pain. The officer continued. "We are presently fingerprinting the car, and beginning a search of the area. We will call you if we find out anything definite. I'm sorry to bear this news."
Ellamae walked over, and wrapped her arms around Désirée. "Thank you, officer." She paused a moment, and said, "I think we need to be alone now. Sorry you had to bear this news."
The policeman said, "Yes, Ma'am," and stepped out the door.
Désirée and Ellamae stood, held each other, and wept.
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Longer Fiction >
A Cord of Seven Strands >
Chapter Thirteen
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