“What about Pete?”

“He ain’t going nowhere.”

“The funeral.”

“You’ll hear about it. Come if you want. But don’t never plan on coming back here.”

“It’s my house.”

“It’s as much my house as yours. I earned it, putting up with you. Besides, my daddy owned the mill, and now I own the mill, not you. I’m the one with money.”

“You’re just upset.”

“I’m upset, all right. But I ain’t just upset. I’m real upset.”

“It’ll pass.”

“I don’t think it will, Mr. Jones. I didn’t know I had it wrong until today. Until Sunset killed Pete. I wanted to kill her right then, but it’s you I want to kill now.”

He looked at her as if he might see someone other than who he expected, but finally determined that it was indeed his wife.

He gathered up his socks and shoes.

“I tell you, you’re gonna live to regret this.”

“I ain’t taking another whipping from you.”

“A wife is obedient to her husband.”

“I ain’t your wife no more.”

“In the eyes of God you are.”

“Then he better turn his head.” She put the shotgun to her shoulder, sighted down the barrels.

“Be careful. That gun’s got a hair trigger.”

Jones got up and left the room and she followed him.

“Don’t stop at nothing,” she said.

“I’m gonna look at Pete. You can shoot me if you want. But I’m gonna look at my son.”

“Then look.”