“You could make a living doing that kind of thing,” Mary Jo said as she watched her sister refinish an oak coffee table in the shade of the backyard pecan tree.

“I suppose I could, but I’ve never thought about it,” Louise said, running the tack rag gently over the sanded finish. “Maybe I’ll consider it now that John’s gone.”

A blue scrub jay in a nearby tree hopped from a lower branch and landed on the other side of the picnic table from where Mary Jo sat. “Look at how bold that blue bird is,” she said. “Not afraid of people at all.”

Louise dipped her brush into the sanding sealer. “I wish I could say the same. I don’t even want to talk to anybody except you right now. I feel like such a fool.”

“But what about that fellow at the market last night—”

“I just asked if the tomatoes seemed ripe. He was only being polite.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Good grief.”

Mary Jo pointed at the jay, which was now staring intently at her. “Be bold like that bird, Louise. Life’s too short to lament someone else’s bad behavior.”

“He walked out the door with my best friend. Everyone in town—”

“He’s been a jerk for a long time and Susan is not your best friend. I am.”

“Yeah, well, that’s true. Remember how he left the fridge door wide open after he got that call from her saying she needed help fixing her garbage disposal?”

“My point exactly. Besides, how fitting.”

Louise laughed, then surveyed her work. “I am pretty good at this, aren’t I? Maybe I’ll consider taking in a few pieces to refinish for others.”

The jay flew over to a nearby fence, perched on the edge, and then flew up in the sky.

“Take a lesson from that scrub jay,” Mary Jo said, smiling. “Enjoy being free. Your wings are stronger than you think.”