“Well, were you able to find the note?” Clyda asks Mabe, who just sat down at The Rusty Nail.
“No,” she huffs. “Scarlet has that house tighter than a flea’s butt over a rain barrel. She’s so organized. Just like Erla.” Mabe shakes her head.
“How long were you there?” Clyda asks.
“Getting arrested for trespassing wasn’t on my to-do list today, I’ll have you know.” Mabe takes a sip of her coffee, sets it down, and says, “I could just tell Scarlet what I saw.”
“And turn her up with worry? We shouldn’t do that. Why put that question in Scarlet’s head, leave her with a bad taste in her mouth with her grandmother and how she died? I’m sure all that girl needs right now is just a little peace.” Clyda shakes her head.
“You’re right there.”
Mabe quietly takes Clyda’s simple agreement deeper than most would. Chief McBride was right. Why tell Clyda and those who loved Conroy and Tripp about who was driving that night when it would cause avoidable pain that could have just been left unmentioned?
“I mean, think about it,” Clyda says. “Would you want to know? Would it really matter when the outcome wouldn’t change?”
“No, probably not,” Mabe agrees, and her heart slows down a bit. “Then, I say we order lunch and forget about it.”
“Forget about what?” Merry, one of the owners, approaches the table.
Mabe panics, but Clyda is cool. “The fact that we live in a society where young people just aren’t what they used to be.”
“Tell me about it. Our little Pepper is a walking, talking encyclopedia for dinosaurs.” She shakes her head. “Apparently, there’s an app she uses. So says her mother. I think kids nowadays just get too much screen time. But that’s just an opinion from a woman who’d rather fill people’s bellies than their heads.” She laughs. “Can I get you two anything?”
“Two peach cobblers, please.”
“Coming right up.” Merry walks away.
Mabe leans in closer. “It was the right decision, right?”
“Erla’s note? Mabe, of course it is.”
“No, no, no. The hiatus for The Ladybugs.”
Clyda sits back in her chair. Takes a long sip of her coffee and stares across the table at her old friend. “You know, Mabe, I’ve been unsure about a whole lot in my life—if I raised my boys right, if I taught them everything I should have, if going on without Borges was the right move. To open my art studio. Carl.” She pauses. “There are things I’ve always been absolutely certain about. To have children. Marrying Borges. To join The Ladybugs all those years ago. God. Faith. Grace. Quite honestly, in my gut and after some prayer, I think putting The Ladybugs on hiatus was the best decision we could have done for our group. It might not be the best thing for our community, but I know in my heart that another group will pick up where we left off. Our community is full of love and full of service, and I’m certain the right person will continue our legacy. We just need to give them a chance. We have to have faith.”
Mabe smiles. “You’ve gone soft in your old age, friend.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re right.”
Clyda holds up her coffee mug, and Mabe follows suit. “To the end of an era.”
“To the end of an era.”