swiftly down the stairs to her car. Blackjack barked madly from his den beneath the porch.
Mama June heard the screen door slam behind her and felt her son’s arm slide around her shoulder. She sighed and leaned into him, relishing his kiss upon the top of her head.
They watched until Adele’s sleek Jaguar, followed by Nan’s Lexus, disappeared down the drive, then stood side by side for several minutes longer. Each relished the peace of the family’s departure. Each was going over in their mind the comments that had been made, dissecting the words and analyzing the intent.
“This storm will blow over,” he said to her.
“Yes, I suppose so,” she replied, though she didn’t really feel so. Old scabs had been reopened that would take time to heal. “Perhaps I put too much store in all going well today. I so wanted their cooperation.”
“And you’ll have it. They just had to blow off steam.”
“I’m not so certain. Adele can be rigid, and Nan’s a dear but she follows Hank’s lead.”
“She’s a sweet kid, but she has no backbone.”
Mama June didn’t respond, fearing that the same might have been said about herself over the years.
“Adele pinched the cup, you know,” Morgan said with amusement in his voice.
“What? The porridge cup?”
He nodded, his lips twisted in disgust.
Mama June shook her head. “It was hers, anyway.”
“You’re not going to say anything?”
“No, let it go. I offered it to her, after all. Besides, it’s not the first thing she’s pinched, as you call it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“It’s never something of great value, at least monetarily. But over the years I’ve noticed a photograph missing, or a piece of family silver, or a painting from her old bedroom. All things that I’m sure she’s rationalized belong to her. For whatever reasons, she needs them. I’ve found it best just not to say anything.”
Movement caught her attention, and turning her head, she saw a thick-set woman in a blue floral dress and a purple slicker coming up the sidewalk from around back.
“Nona!” she called out with a quick wave.
Nona’s face rose toward the stairs and broke into a quick grin. “’Afternoon, Mary June.”
“Nona!” Morgan exclaimed, dashing down the stairs. He swooped Nona in his arms and they hugged warmly, instantly nanny and child again. Morgan held her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you. I swear, you never change. Make a pact with the devil to look so good at your age? And it’s no use lying. I know exactly how old you are.”
“Just living the good life,” Nona quipped. “More than I can say for you! What’s all this long, shaggy hair? And buttons missing from your shirt? You used to be such a fine dresser. Remember those white bucks? Lord, you were like a peacock in those days. You need some caring after, that’s for certain. Don’t they have women where you been living? You can’t find yourself a wife?”
“Come in, come in,” Mama June exclaimed, gesturing with her hand toward the house.
“I can’t stay long. I came along with Elmore. He’s out yonder checking on the sweetgrass,” she said, indicating the direction of the fields with a jerk of her chin. “The first pulling of the season will be here before we know it. Speaking of which…” She lifted her arms to Mama June to offer a beautiful sweetgrass basket with a curved handle.
“Elmore and I, we were sorry to hear Mr. Preston took sick and wanted to bring something. From our house to yours.”
Mama June was more touched by the sentiment than she could express. She took hold of the intricately sewn bread basket made of coiled sweetgrass, rush and pine needles withthe same reverence she would an olive branch. Inside the basket, tucked neatly in a blue-checked napkin, were Nona’s homemade buttermilk biscuits.
She felt her heart shift and pump with age-old affection. “Nona, this is so kind of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted one of your
Mama June heard the screen door slam behind her and felt her son’s arm slide around her shoulder. She sighed and leaned into him, relishing his kiss upon the top of her head.
They watched until Adele’s sleek Jaguar, followed by Nan’s Lexus, disappeared down the drive, then stood side by side for several minutes longer. Each relished the peace of the family’s departure. Each was going over in their mind the comments that had been made, dissecting the words and analyzing the intent.
“This storm will blow over,” he said to her.
“Yes, I suppose so,” she replied, though she didn’t really feel so. Old scabs had been reopened that would take time to heal. “Perhaps I put too much store in all going well today. I so wanted their cooperation.”
“And you’ll have it. They just had to blow off steam.”
“I’m not so certain. Adele can be rigid, and Nan’s a dear but she follows Hank’s lead.”
“She’s a sweet kid, but she has no backbone.”
Mama June didn’t respond, fearing that the same might have been said about herself over the years.
“Adele pinched the cup, you know,” Morgan said with amusement in his voice.
“What? The porridge cup?”
He nodded, his lips twisted in disgust.
Mama June shook her head. “It was hers, anyway.”
“You’re not going to say anything?”
“No, let it go. I offered it to her, after all. Besides, it’s not the first thing she’s pinched, as you call it.”
“You’re kidding.”
“It’s never something of great value, at least monetarily. But over the years I’ve noticed a photograph missing, or a piece of family silver, or a painting from her old bedroom. All things that I’m sure she’s rationalized belong to her. For whatever reasons, she needs them. I’ve found it best just not to say anything.”
Movement caught her attention, and turning her head, she saw a thick-set woman in a blue floral dress and a purple slicker coming up the sidewalk from around back.
“Nona!” she called out with a quick wave.
Nona’s face rose toward the stairs and broke into a quick grin. “’Afternoon, Mary June.”
“Nona!” Morgan exclaimed, dashing down the stairs. He swooped Nona in his arms and they hugged warmly, instantly nanny and child again. Morgan held her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you. I swear, you never change. Make a pact with the devil to look so good at your age? And it’s no use lying. I know exactly how old you are.”
“Just living the good life,” Nona quipped. “More than I can say for you! What’s all this long, shaggy hair? And buttons missing from your shirt? You used to be such a fine dresser. Remember those white bucks? Lord, you were like a peacock in those days. You need some caring after, that’s for certain. Don’t they have women where you been living? You can’t find yourself a wife?”
“Come in, come in,” Mama June exclaimed, gesturing with her hand toward the house.
“I can’t stay long. I came along with Elmore. He’s out yonder checking on the sweetgrass,” she said, indicating the direction of the fields with a jerk of her chin. “The first pulling of the season will be here before we know it. Speaking of which…” She lifted her arms to Mama June to offer a beautiful sweetgrass basket with a curved handle.
“Elmore and I, we were sorry to hear Mr. Preston took sick and wanted to bring something. From our house to yours.”
Mama June was more touched by the sentiment than she could express. She took hold of the intricately sewn bread basket made of coiled sweetgrass, rush and pine needles withthe same reverence she would an olive branch. Inside the basket, tucked neatly in a blue-checked napkin, were Nona’s homemade buttermilk biscuits.
She felt her heart shift and pump with age-old affection. “Nona, this is so kind of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted one of your
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