<Marlene and the kids came to visit on Sunday afternoon. Marlene’s eyes were puffy, but George could tell she was putting up a brave front for George Jr. and Sunny.
“When ya comin’ home, Daddy?” Junior asked through the grill as he bounced up and down on the stool.
“Judge ain’t said yet,” George Leroy answered.
“It’ll be by the Fourth of Joo-ly, won’t it? We got to go to the stand and get sparklers and snap-pops.” He bounced confidently.
“Well, no, boy, it ain’t gonna be that soon.”
Junior stopped bouncing and stared through the glass at his father.
“Why not?”
“Judge says I broke the law and I say no, I didn’t. We got to have a trial to find out who’s right.”
“Like on TV?” Junior resumed bouncing. “With ‘I object’ and ‘Overruled’ and all? Can I come?”
“it won’t be that exciting, buddy. It ain’t no place for you,” his father answered.
Junior stuck out his tongue and said, “Well, jail ain’t no place for you!” He high-tailed it off the stool just in case his father could figure a way to come after him through the glass.
Sunny took his place and climbed up on her knees on the stool so she could reach her mouth up to the grill.
“Come back home soon, Daddy,” she whispered. “Mama cries every night.” She climbed back down and joined her brother by the door.
“How are you, sugar?” George Leroy asked as Marlene took her turn on the stool.
“I’m holdin’ up,” she sighed. “Junior’s been real ornery, like you just saw, and Sunny’s bein’ way too sweet. There ain’t much food in the house, neither.”
“That’s what them food stamps is for, Marlene.”
“I know, but I hate the way folks look at me in the store when I pay with ’em.”
“Forget those folks,” George Leroy said. “You and the kids got to eat. Can’t believe they’d begrudge you some Hamburger Helper when you got kids to feed.”
“Oh, all right,” she sighed, “but I still don’t like it.”
“That’s my sugar-pie.”
Marlene looked down at her hands, examining her short-bitten, unpolished nails. “Are you sure you have to go to trial?”
“What? You have to talk into that metal thing or else I can’t hear you.”
She raised her head and said into the grill, “Can’t you plead guilty and get probation or something, honey?”
George Leroy smacked his hands down on the counter, making Marlene jump.
“I told you, Marlene. I wasn’t fishin’ when that warden come down the bank. The pole was on the sand and I hadn’t caught anything yet. We got precious little to pay probation with anyhow. I ain’t pleadin’ guilty and that’s that.”
Marlene’s blue eyes filled with tears and her shoulders slumped. It tugged at George Leroy’s heart.
“I’m sorry you’re caught in the middle of this, darlin’,” he said gently. “But I ain’t guilty and I ain’t gonna say that I am. Even if I did, it’d still take a while to see the judge again. You wouldn’t believe how busy this place is. I’ll be here a while, anyway, seein’ as we don’t got money for bail. But it’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

Sunny was the first one on the stool on the third Sunday in July.
“Daddy, I got reg-is-tered for school on Thursday. I’m going to go to all-day kindergarten!” Her blond ponytail bounced.
“School? All day? Ain’t you gonna miss Mama?”
“I don’t think so,” Sunny whispered into the grill. “School’s gonna be fun. But don’t tell Mama, ’cause it might hurt her feelings.”
“Okay,” George Leroy whispered back. “So, you think you’re ready?” he said in a louder voice.
The ponytail bounced some more. “I can count to twenty. I know all the letters and I can write my name–Sunshine Louise Marlin. I know my address and phone number, too.”
“Well, ain’t you smart. I’ll bet you’ll be the smartest in the whole class.”
“You’re going to be home for the first day of school, right? To put me on the bus?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. I ain’t got a court date yet,” George Leroy had to answer.
Sunny’s face fell. She slid off the stool and went to stand by the door with Junior. George Leroy gestured to Junior to come and talk, but Junior shook his head and fixed his father with a stony stare.
“What’s eatin’ Junior?” George Leroy asked Marlene as she settled on the stool.
“His coach-pitched team is in the play-offs. You’re gonna miss it and he’s mad.”
“He’s playin’ at the Rec Center?! We can’t afford that, Marlene!”
“He got a anonymous scholarship. Some of the other moms passed down pants and cleats and a glove. The baseball moms are real nice.”
“His team’s in the play-offs?” George Leroy shook his head in wonder. “Is he any good?”
“He can whack it pretty good when he gets a piece of it. Can’t catch good yet, though.”
“If I was home,” George Leroy mused, “we could play catch and he’d get better.”
“Yeah,” Marlene replied, looking her husband straight in the eye. “If you was home.”