CHAPTER 33
The picked-clean bones of several barbecued ribs plus two cubes of the best potato salad I’d ever eaten were all that remained on my plate an hour later. It was even better than what we’d prepared in the store yesterday. Adele had served grilled asparagus spears, too, of which not a trace could be seen. My helping was right where it belonged, in my stomach.
Adele and Vera sat across from Abe and me. “Adele, those ribs were fabulous,” I said. “What’s your secret?”
She chortled. “Bought ’em sauce and all from Janko’s Little Zagreb, that’s what. Not much of a secret, when you come right down to it. All’s we did was warm those babies on the grill.”
“Really?” Abe asked.
“Yeperoo.” She grinned. “Why do the work when that cute little restaurant does it better? They’ve been in business for decades now.”
“They have,” Abe said. “I remember going there as a boy.”
“I just call me in an order and drive over to Bloomington to pick it up,” Adele said. “Didn’t I do exactly that yesterday, Vera?”
Vera, who was still working on extracting every shred of meat from her last rib, nodded.
“I’ve never eaten at Janko’s,” I said. “Based on this dinner, I’d like to remedy that situation.”
“They’re in an old-style restaurant on the other side of the train tracks, hon.” Adele took a swig of her wine. “On the west side of town. Easy to find.”
“I’ll take you to eat there whenever you want,” Abe said. “By the way, my darling, maybe I should go away more often.” His expression turned mischievous.
“Why’s that?”
“Look at that empty plate.” He pointed. “My being absent seems to have cured your morning sickness.”
“Maybe.” I smiled. “Except I think the passage of time is what did it. But you can go away whenever you want.”
Vera snickered.
Abe stretched out his legs. “So, dear wife of mine, Adele tells me you had a little excitement this weekend.” His tone was casual.
Uh-oh. He’d heard about the murder from Adele, probably while they were grilling dinner, and I knew him well enough to hear the hurt because I hadn’t told him myself.
“It’s true,” I said. “Being there when a body falls out of your race entry isn’t the kind of excitement I was seeking out, believe me.” I added in a murmur, “I was going to tell you later, my love, but I didn’t want to get into all of the sordid details on our way here.”
“It must have been an awful experience for you.” He now frowned.
“It wasn’t much fun,” I agreed. “Nor for Danna and Turner, who were right there. It was awful and shocking and so very sad.”
“I’d guess our Roberta’s already been nosing around about who was responsible, haven’t you, sugar?” Adele asked.
“Guilty as charged, but I’ve been investigating only carefully, peripherally,” I said. “Besides, Octavia Slade and Wanda seem to be assigned to the case, which is as it should be, plus the Nashville police chief.”
“A relatively young woman is the new department head, I heard.” Abe took a sip from the bottle of beer he held.
That was his second drink, I thought, or maybe third. I didn’t mind. I was our designated driver for the duration of this pregnancy, a job I gladly accepted. And I’d never known Abe to drink more alcohol than he could handle.
“Yes,” I said. “The chief’s name is Haley Harris. Her entire team is made up of men. I wonder how they feel about that.”
“If they want to keep their jobs, they’d better feel fine about it,” Vera said. “But we all know how subtle remarks and actions can sabotage what looks like a bold move of equal hiring.”
As a Black woman in her seventies, she’d had a lifetime of becoming way too familiar with that kind of sabotage.
“Did you pick up any new intel this afternoon?” Adele asked me.
“Not really,” I said. “Can we change the subject?”
“You don’t want to upset that little bun in the oven,” Adele said.
That wasn’t why I wanted to move the conversation along. Talking about murder among loved ones on a beautiful evening was too dark to bear and would spoil the happy mood, if it hadn’t already. But I didn’t contradict her about the reason.
“I get it,” Adele went on. “I’ll tell you one thing, I sure can’t wait to have little imps running around this place.”
Vera smiled, too. “That will be so fine.”
I smiled. It would be fine, even though the imps would come one at a time, and the baby I was carrying wouldn’t be running for a couple of years. I did love the image of Abe’s and my child kneading bread with Adele and learning to help with the sheep, being close to my side of the family as well as to Abe’s. We could also take the little one to Italy to meet my father. He’d already said he wanted to have regular video chats with his new grandchild.
“Adele,” I began. “Did you ever want children of your own?” It was a highly personal question, but I’d known my aunt since before I could remember, and I realized I’d never asked her.
When a stricken look passed over her face, I wished I hadn’t asked. The look slid away as fast as it had appeared.
“Sure, hon,” she said. “Thing is, it didn’t turn out that way. We take what life gives us, don’t we?”
Samuel strolled up and laid a brown, age-spotted hand on Adele’s shoulder. She covered it with her own lighter, weathered one.
“Addie could have had any boy she wanted back in the day,” Vera said. “She was one hot ticket.”
“She still is,” Samuel said.
Adele’s cheeks pinkened. “You go on, now.”
We all sat quietly with our thoughts for a few moments. After I set my plate on the ground, Abe laid a hand on my knee. A sheep in the field baaed, inciting an ovine chorus. A man laughed in one of the other circles of guests, and a truck bumped over a pothole out on the road.
The reality of Evermina’s murder felt distant, hazy, instead of being a terrible thing we’d witnessed the aftermath of only the day before yesterday. Right now? Distant was fine with me.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” I asked.