They were on the cheerleading squad together. And Iris Ellerby was her best friend in the chorus. As far as I know, they stayed close after high school.” She brightened. “You’re right, of course, Miss Dimple. If Prentice was seeing somebody other than Clay, she might have mentioned it to one of them.
“I think Iris just finished her freshman year at Wesleyan,” she continued, speaking of the girls college in nearby Macon, “and Karen took a secretarial course and went to work as a receptionist for my uncle Ed after Miss Mildred finally retired.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Mildred Stovall “hung up her hat” at age eighty-one after years of faithful service to Ed Willingham, one of the town’s two dentists. In the last few years, she had become so deaf that she mixed up names and dates for appointments, so patients only hoped they were showing up on the correct day and time, but genial Ed couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
It was agreed that Delia should be the one to speak to Prentice’s friends, as it would seem more natural, since she was nearer their age.
“I’ll suggest it to her today,” Charlie promised. “After all, I know she’s as eager to clear this up as we are.”
“And then what?” Annie frowned as she shoved the discarded corn shucks into a garbage can. Lately, it seemed, she became irritated and impatient at the least little thing. She knew her fiancé, Frazier Duncan, was somewhere in the thick of the fighting going on after the Normandy invasion in June, and it had been some time since she’d heard from him.
“I can’t help thinking this all started when Leola Parker died,” Miss Dimple said. “Perhaps we should begin there.”
“If you all want that corn for dinner, you’d better get it in here,” a voice announced behind them. “Water’s about come to a boil.”
Phoebe Chadwick’s longtime cook, Odessa Kirby, waved a wooden spoon at them from the kitchen doorway, from which came the aroma of green beans fresh from the victory garden, simmered long and slow with a chunk of streak o’ lean. “Corn bread’s hot, and Miss Velma’s done got the table set in the dining room,” she added.
Charlie’s stomach rumbled. Although she didn’t usually eat at Phoebe’s during the summer months, today she had been invited to take Lily Moss’s place, and had accepted gladly, hoping that lady would extend her visit in Atlanta. “Odessa,” she began as they filed through the kitchen, “I know you and Leola were cousins, but did you know her very well?”
Odessa, busily scrubbing corn at the sink, answered over her shoulder. “Course I knowed her, but she lived way out at the end of nowhere and went to that Zion church over on Blossom Street, so we didn’t see each other a whole lot.” Odessa shook her head, and from the expression on her face, you could tell she didn’t think much of her cousin’s choice of churches.
Charlie smiled to herself. Odessa’s idea of the “end of nowhere” was only a couple of miles from town and in easy biking distance from Bertie’s neat brick bungalow, and through seventh grade, Prentice had been dropped off there afternoons after school until her aunt got home from work.
“Why, I was ten years old before I found out Leola wasn’t my grandmama,” Prentice had once confided to Delia. The afternoon Leola died, Prentice had bicycled the familiar route across fields and woods and through neighboring land the mile or so to Leola’s to pick blackberries. Leola had promised to make them into a pie, and it was close to dusk when Prentice finally filled her pail from the bushes bordering the back pasture. Rounding the corner of the house, where she’d left her bike, Prentice found the old woman’s body at the foot of the two cement steps leading to her small front porch.
“What a horrible thing for that poor girl to have to deal with!” Phoebe said when Charlie reminded them about it at dinner. Although they ate
“I think Iris just finished her freshman year at Wesleyan,” she continued, speaking of the girls college in nearby Macon, “and Karen took a secretarial course and went to work as a receptionist for my uncle Ed after Miss Mildred finally retired.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when Mildred Stovall “hung up her hat” at age eighty-one after years of faithful service to Ed Willingham, one of the town’s two dentists. In the last few years, she had become so deaf that she mixed up names and dates for appointments, so patients only hoped they were showing up on the correct day and time, but genial Ed couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
It was agreed that Delia should be the one to speak to Prentice’s friends, as it would seem more natural, since she was nearer their age.
“I’ll suggest it to her today,” Charlie promised. “After all, I know she’s as eager to clear this up as we are.”
“And then what?” Annie frowned as she shoved the discarded corn shucks into a garbage can. Lately, it seemed, she became irritated and impatient at the least little thing. She knew her fiancé, Frazier Duncan, was somewhere in the thick of the fighting going on after the Normandy invasion in June, and it had been some time since she’d heard from him.
“I can’t help thinking this all started when Leola Parker died,” Miss Dimple said. “Perhaps we should begin there.”
“If you all want that corn for dinner, you’d better get it in here,” a voice announced behind them. “Water’s about come to a boil.”
Phoebe Chadwick’s longtime cook, Odessa Kirby, waved a wooden spoon at them from the kitchen doorway, from which came the aroma of green beans fresh from the victory garden, simmered long and slow with a chunk of streak o’ lean. “Corn bread’s hot, and Miss Velma’s done got the table set in the dining room,” she added.
Charlie’s stomach rumbled. Although she didn’t usually eat at Phoebe’s during the summer months, today she had been invited to take Lily Moss’s place, and had accepted gladly, hoping that lady would extend her visit in Atlanta. “Odessa,” she began as they filed through the kitchen, “I know you and Leola were cousins, but did you know her very well?”
Odessa, busily scrubbing corn at the sink, answered over her shoulder. “Course I knowed her, but she lived way out at the end of nowhere and went to that Zion church over on Blossom Street, so we didn’t see each other a whole lot.” Odessa shook her head, and from the expression on her face, you could tell she didn’t think much of her cousin’s choice of churches.
Charlie smiled to herself. Odessa’s idea of the “end of nowhere” was only a couple of miles from town and in easy biking distance from Bertie’s neat brick bungalow, and through seventh grade, Prentice had been dropped off there afternoons after school until her aunt got home from work.
“Why, I was ten years old before I found out Leola wasn’t my grandmama,” Prentice had once confided to Delia. The afternoon Leola died, Prentice had bicycled the familiar route across fields and woods and through neighboring land the mile or so to Leola’s to pick blackberries. Leola had promised to make them into a pie, and it was close to dusk when Prentice finally filled her pail from the bushes bordering the back pasture. Rounding the corner of the house, where she’d left her bike, Prentice found the old woman’s body at the foot of the two cement steps leading to her small front porch.
“What a horrible thing for that poor girl to have to deal with!” Phoebe said when Charlie reminded them about it at dinner. Although they ate
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