even try to get her job back if that would make things right. It was intricate work, slow as the motion of planets, this letting yourself get changed through marriage. She rose to try to turn his collar down, but he stormed out to start the barbecue. Grace found a safety pin for her sandal and followed.
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The fields still shimmered with great, steamy warmth. On the porch, Jane had arranged her legs to catch shadows thrown by the flaming hibachi, whose stack of coals James was making much of. She was wearing heels that were quite high. Heat lightning flared on the west hill. In one of the flashes, Grace saw Elwood walking toward the house. ''The girls are settled for the night, so I thought I'd come by," Elwood called up to them.
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"The girls?" said Stuart. He looked pink, from sun or shame, Grace couldn't tell. A clear hard wall stood between him and Jane, and Grace imagined the list of dividable items scrolling through their minds. No, only through Jane's. James was right. Stuart didn't look like someone scheming to keep a house. He looked as desperate for truce as a dog, terribly embarrassed.
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"The cows and heifers, Stuart," Jane said. "All fed and happy. Hello, Leon." She passed Elwood a tray of crudités.
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"Thanks. Pretty shirt," Elwood said and settled himself next to her.
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"So," said Stuart, rolling a beer bottle between his palms, "you two have met?"
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"I took Jane down to the stream and we bumped into each other there," Grace said and passed the crudité to Stuart. He leaned forward to plunge a carrot stick into the dip, then sat back abruptly as if forgetting, now that the vegetable was coated, what he was supposed to do.
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"We sprayed pigs together this afternoon," Jane said, "making sure they stayed cool. You look red, Stuart."
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James stuck out his hand like a pitchfork and said to Elwood, "Glad you could make it."
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"Hi, James," Elwood said, and absently shook James's hand,
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