If Derek wants to talk about it, Lucy will be happy to listen, but she spends a good deal of her life coping with the bad things that have happened to her by not talking about them. Denial is a way of life for Lucy. There's no way she's going to prod Derek into talking about something that might be painful for him.

Good. She'd told the story to make him laugh, to ease that pained look in his eyes. She nods a little in agreement. "Bad enough car wreck and it really doesn't matter much. If it's your time, it's your time. All that jazz. You can't tell Daddy that though, not when it comes to his girls." Lucy probably would have been right in the middle of that black light and paint party because it sounds like fun.

"I'm Southern, Sugar. Of course, I'm into barbecue," she teases him. "I also like fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cheese grits and chicken dumplings. I know. It's a wonder we don't all weight three hundred pounds. 'Course if you go to Walmart on any given day, you'll think we do." She continues to direct him, having him turn into a street that looks like a neighborhood street, an old one lined with trees and small houses. Some of them are junked up while others are obviously loved and cared for.