It seemed so unfair that John Blodgett should reap all the profits of the drug store when he did nothing more than go over the books occasionally, while Ray was on his feet from nine to six with an additional three hours on Friday night. And nearly every evening there was a call for a rush prescription, usually a child suddenly taken sick. There was of course Minnie, the efficient spinster who clerked in the front of the store and supervised the moronic teenagers who came and went at the soda fountain. But the burden of the purchasing and inventory, as well as the busy pharmacy department, fell on Ray.

When they finally did set out in their old hardtop, however, his usual good humor seemed to have returned. They had long since explored every road leading out of Quiggville, for these rides were their chief recreational outlet, but still it was interesting to observe the countryside at different seasons of the year. The spring was Sally's favorite time … it was so much more lush than a New England spring and came a full two months earlier. Now, at the end of a dry summer, there seemed to be a dusty haze in the air and a sleepiness had settled over the scorching red-clay fields.

They drove first to Hickory Acres to inspect the newly-staked-out lots in the undeveloped portion of the subdivision.

«Someone's bought the corner one,» she touched her husband's arm and pointed to the sign which was slashed diagonally by a bright yellow strip bearing the letters SOLD.

«Yeah … so I see. But that's the only one. They're not moving so fast, what with the recession …» Ray was careful not to voice their unspoken fear that the lot of their choice might be purchased by someone else first. They got out of the car and went through the ritual of pacing off where the house would sit and where the front door would be.

The rest of the day Sally remembered had gone quite smoothly. They had a light supper and spent the evening watching TV.