“She’s just my little flour girl.” Jacqueline’s head snapped up, a flash of real embarrassment crossing her face.

“Theodore.

Please do not call me that right now.” His expression softened at once.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I looked between the two of them, and I understood that I was not going to get to the bottom of this through conversation alone, not with everyone laughing and blushing and apologizing.

Jacqueline smoothed her skirt and stared down at her shoes and finally began to explain.

“I fully intended,” she said, “to take every last bag with me yesterday morning.