“Miss Julia! Guess what!”
In spite of trying to catch up on lost sleep, I’d heard the clatter of Hazel Marie’s high-heeled mules as soon as she came in the back door. I tracked her as she hurried toward the living room where I was resting my eyes and trying not to worry about what designs Helen might have on Sam.
Blinking blearily and struggling to appear awake, I lifted my head from its resting place on the wing of one of my new Queen Anne chairs. Every time I caught a few winks in the middle of the day, I congratulated myself for getting rid of those hard, uncomfortable Victorian chairs. “I can’t guess anything, Hazel Marie. After being up half the night, I’m too sleepy.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Why don’t you go lie down for a while?”
“No, all I needed was a little catnap. Now, what’s going on?”
“Well, I stopped by Mildred’s after I took the children to school, and guess who’s there?”
“Etta Mae Wiggins, I hope.”
“Oh, poo, you already knew!”
“No, I didn’t. I’d urged Mildred to try to get her, but I didn’t know she’d succeeded. And thank goodness for it, because she’ll keep Mildred off our backs. I just hope Etta Mae can please her. Or, rather, I hope that Etta Mae can stand her.”
“It was so good to see her,” Hazel Marie said, sitting on the sofa and leaning toward me. “We haven’t talked since the two of you got back from Florida. But, listen, you haven’t heard the latest.”
“About Horace?” I was wide awake by now.
“No, not a word about him. But Tonya called while I was there to see how her mother was and, I guess, to see if there was any news. Anyway, she and Mildred really got into it. And it ended up that Mildred told her about Etta Mae and then told her she could just stay in Charleston for all she cared.”
Hazel Marie took her bottom lip in her teeth for a minute, then she said, “It was awful just hearing one side. I can’t imagine what Tonya said back to her.”
“Well,” I said, covering a yawn with my hand. “I hate to say this, but Mildred is a little on the self-centered side, and I expect Tonya has to do everything she can to stand up for herself. Actually, it surprises me that Tonya is still living here. I’d think New York would be the place for her, especially since she used to live there.” I did a little lip biting, myself. “Of course, that was when she was Tony, so maybe her friends wouldn’t be the same.”
“That’s probably it. Listen, you won’t believe what Latisha said on the way to school. She said she’d about had enough of school and as soon as she finished first grade, that would be it for her.”
“You never know what that child will come out with,” I said, smiling. “Well, speaking of Lillian, looks like we’re having a guest for dinner tonight. Sam invited Arthur Kessler, who’s breezing into town for a few days. He’s that developer who wants to replace our beautiful Georgian courthouse with a modern high-rise. I can’t for the life of me understand why Sam took it upon himself to do that. He knows I’ll have to constrain myself and not get into an argument. I wish we had somebody else coming to keep the conversation as pleasant as possible. Will Mr. Pickens be around?”
“Oh, I wish, but he’s in Charlotte for a day or two.” Hazel Marie’s face had a disappointed look, but then she brightened. “I know! Let’s invite Mildred and Etta Mae.”
I doubted that either of those could add much pleasantness to table talk, what with Mildred’s whining and Etta Mae’s penchant for raving about roadhouses and Disney World. Yet, they’d fill the silences since, as the hostess, I’d be constrained in saying what I wanted to say to Mr. Kessler.
So I said, “I don’t know that Mildred would come, but it would do her good to get out. And I expect Etta Mae would appreciate a break. All right, let’s see. There’ll be Sam and me, you and Lloyd, Mildred and Etta Mae, and Mr. Kessler. That’s an uneven number at the table. Who else could we ask?”
“Well, we could let Lloyd eat in the kitchen,” she said, but I shook my head to that. “Then what about LuAnne? She’s a single woman, temporarily at least, and she might enjoy getting out on her own. Then there’s Helen, who’s also a temporary single.”
“No,” I said a little more sharply than I’d intended. “Even though she’s in dire need of friends, Helen has cut me out in every way possible. I’m not giving her a chance to do it again. No, let’s stick with LuAnne, and that’ll make eight at the table. But that’s five women and only three men, counting Lloyd.” I thought for a few minutes, then said, “I know. Let’s ask the Ledbetters. That adds another woman, but if we get the pastor talking about the state of the church, he’ll keep us off the courthouse. And I don’t want to get into that with Mr. Kessler, especially at the dinner table.”
Hazel Marie got to her feet. “We’d better start calling. It’s getting late.”
“I don’t know what got into Sam to ask that man for tonight,” I said, still feeling put upon. “He knows a dinner party takes time to plan.”
Hazel Marie laughed. “He was probably thinking of just an extra plate. He wouldn’t figure you’d go all out like this.”
Yes, I thought, and he wouldn’t figure that I’d be worried sick while he was even now visiting Helen again. My stomach tightened at the thought, but I resolutely put it behind me, temporarily at least.
“Let’s go talk to Lillian,” I said, and headed for the kitchen.
After Lillian got over the shock of hearing that there would be ten for dinner that night, she said, “Somebody got to go to the sto’ if we gonna feed that many. What you want me to serve?”
“I don’t know. What do you think, Hazel Marie?”
Hazel Marie gazed at the ceiling, a sure sign that she was thinking. “Well, since Mr. Kessler is from up north, I think we should have a typical southern dinner. If he’s going to move here and tear up our town, we ought to let him have a taste of what we’re like.”
“Why, Hazel Marie,” I said, as the germ of an idea formed in the back of my mind, “that is inspired thinking. Which typical southern dinner are you thinking of?”
She shrugged, having lost all inspiration. “I don’t know. Fried chicken?”
“Watermelon,” Lillian said, grinning. “Collard greens. Barbecue ribs. Fried pork chops, maybe.”
“Fried pork chops are tempting,” I said, “but Pastor Ledbetter’s watching his cholesterol. What about shrimp and grits? You don’t get any more southern than that.”
“That be good,” Lillian said, “an’ easy to fix. What you want with it?”
“Well, we need something green, so let’s have collards as a side dish. That’ll give him something to talk about when he goes home. And a fruit cup to start and your good yeast rolls, just to show him we’re not entirely in the backwoods. And pecan pie for dessert. Now, Hazel Marie, let’s start calling, and do apologize to everybody for being so last-minute. Explain that Mr. Kessler has been unexpectedly foisted on us by the mayor, which is the truth and, believe me, I’m not forgetting it.”
The rest of the day was spent scurrying around preparing for our impromptu dinner party. Lillian started on the rolls, since they needed time to rise, and Hazel Marie went to the Winn-Dixie with a long list, while I began setting the table. And all the while, my mind was on Sam, wondering where he was, how long he’d stayed with Helen, what he’d learned from her and why he was getting more and more entangled with her and the case of her missing husband.
After putting the finishing touches on the table, I took my flower snips and went out into the yard, hoping to find enough blooms to make a stab at a centerpiece. I could’ve called the florist, but I wasn’t in the mood to go all out for Mr. Kessler. He’d have to take what we gave him, even if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
As I wandered around the yard, I realized that Hazel Marie’s suggestion of giving him a sample of what we were like was flitting around in my mind. As a high-powered developer, he’d assuredly surveyed the area and come up with Abbotsville as the ideal location for his project. If the mayor was right about the plans, Mr. Kessler intended to sink a lot of money in the town. I couldn’t think of what had made him pick us off the map, unless he knew something that none of us living here knew. We had a reasonably mild climate, beautiful mountain views, a lower than average cost of living, neighborly people and, well, maybe that was enough for people unaccustomed to any of it.
I knew there would be few, if any, local buyers of his condominiums, which meant that he intended to attract outsiders to life on our Main Street.
Now, I had nothing against outsiders. They could bring new ideas and cultured tastes and a boost to the economy. I knew that because I was not a native myself, having moved to Abbotsville as Wesley Lloyd’s bride some years before and, without boasting, I could say that I’d added immeasurably to the general tone of the town, both socially and economically.
Still, your average outsiders, especially your wealthier ones, tended to think they knew better than the people they came to live among. If I’d heard it once, I’d heard it a dozen times. They were prone to point out that things had been done better where they’d come from. It made us wonder why they’d left.
I found a few bedraggled blossoms in the side yard so I carefully snipped them, hoping they weren’t drooping too badly. Then I cut some sprays from a flowering cherry tree, which was about all the color I could find. I’d have to fill in with some greenery and hope for the best. Walking back toward the house, I glanced over at the Family Life Center across the street, that huge brick building erected purely on Pastor Ledbetter’s pride, and smiled in remembrance of the image that had once appeared on it. I almost laughed out loud, because that brought to mind something Latisha had said. She’d heard us discussing the Madonna-like apparition that had spread over the bricks and thought we’d had a visitation by a rock star.
I came to a sudden stop beside a hydrangea bush, struck with the possibilities opened up by Hazel Marie’s suggestion of giving Mr. Kessler a taste of the South. Uh-huh, I thought, since he seems to have such an appetite for Abbotsville, why don’t we give him something to really chew on?