Mrs. Mitchiner gave a dainty yawn and settled herself more comfortably in the chair.
Cyl nudged a small footstool closer and said, “Wouldn’t you rest better if you went and lay down for a while?”
“I’m not ready to take to my bed in the daytime yet,” Mrs. Mitchiner said tartly.
As Cyl had known she would. Unless she were sick, her grandmother never lay down until bedtime. If the sun was up, so was she. Her only concession to sloth was to lean back and let her spine actually rest against the cushion.
“See you next Sunday, then,” said Cyl as she bent to kiss that cool pale cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”
The older woman caught her hand. “Everything all right with you, child?”
“Sure,” Cyl said cautiously. “Why?”
“I don’t know. This last month, there’s something different. I look at you in church. One minute you be sad, next minute you be lit up all happy.”
Green eyes looked deep into Cyl’s brown.
“Oh, baby, you finally loving somebody?”
“You, Grandma,” she parried lightly. “Just you.”
“I may be old, but I’m not feeble-minded,” said Mrs. Mitchiner. “Just tell me this. Is he a good Christian man?”
“He tries to be,” Cyl whispered.
Satisfied, Mrs. Mitchiner leaned back in her chair. “That’s all God asks, baby. That’s all He asks.”
* * *
At the Orchid Motel, Marie O’Day was showing her newest employee the ropes. Mrs. O’Day didn’t speak much Spanish and if Consuela Flores understood much English, it wasn’t obvious. Nevertheless, they managed to communicate well enough that when they came to the last room at the back of the motel and found a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, Consuela pointed to the work sheet and made an inquisitive sound.
“Good!” said Mrs. O’Day with an encouraging nod and exaggerated pantomime. “
Confidently, the apprentice maid stepped up to the door and rapped smartly. “Housekeeping!” she called in a lilting accent.
Sunlight played on the low bushes that separated walkway from parking lot and a welcome breeze ruffled the younger woman’s long black hair as she listened for an answer. When no one responded, she used the master key to open the door, again announcing herself.
Inside, the drapes were tightly drawn, but enough sunlight spilled through the doorway to show that the king- sized bed had not been slept in. The near side pillow had been pulled up against the headboard and the coverlet was rumpled where someone had sat. Otherwise the bed was still made. An overnight case sat open on the luggage bench under the window and a cosmetic bag lay on the dresser next to a bottle of wine and two plastic goblets, familiar signs that this guest was still in residence even though the room had been booked for only one night.
Consuela Flores looked to the motel owner for instructions.
“Start with the bathroom,” Marie O’Day said briskly, pulling the curtains to let more light into the room, “then we’ll—”
“
A torrent of Spanish poured from the terrified maid and she clung to her employer, who looked over her shoulder to the figure that sprawled on the floor between the bed and the far wall.
It was a slender blonde white woman.
She was naked except for black bra, a black lace garter belt and stockings. One sheer black stocking was on her leg. The other was knotted tightly around her neck.
CHAPTER | 4
A faint rise in the barometer may be noticed before the sharp fall follows. Wisps of thin, cirrus cloud float for 200 miles around the storm center.
Election day was still two months away and I had no Republican opposition. Nevertheless, I continued to hit as many churches as I could every Sunday I was free. Today was homecoming at Bethel Baptist, the church that my mother and Aunt Zell had grown up in, not to mention my sister-in-law Minnie and Dwight Bryant as well. I hadn’t planned to go, but then I hadn’t planned to be free either.
Instead, I dragged my aching bones out of bed early and with my own two hands and a recipe off the Internet, I made a perfect pan of lemon bars for the picnic dinner that followed the preaching services. I also contributed a deep-dish chicken pie prepared from ingredients I’d bought Friday evening when I still thought Kidd was coming.
“Didn’t know you could cook anything besides popcorn,” said Dwight, helping himself to a spoonful.
“And you still won’t know till you actually taste it,” teased Seth, who was right in behind him.
Seth’s five brothers up from me and likes to pretend I can’t tie my own shoelaces yet.
“Y’all leave Deborah alone,” said Dwight’s mother. “I know for a fact that Sue started teaching her how to cook before she was five.”
