Simple Gone South

“Uh, yes,” Lucy said.

The bell rang. “And there they are.” Lanie exited the kitchen and a moment later squeals of greeting emitted from down the hall.

Arabelle smiled a controlled little smile and took a sip from her glass. “I envy you all this friendship. Always so happy to see each other,” she said.

“We’re not always this excitable,” Lucy explained. “We haven’t seen Tolly since before Thanksgiving. She was gone for days.”

“Days?” Arabelle cocked an eyebrow.

Lucy would have replied but, by then, the others had entered the kitchen and she and Tolly were hugging and dancing around. “How’s Kirby?” “I saw Nathan on TV!” “Wait until you see what I bought!” “Restaurant turkey—the worst!” flew through the air from four directions.

Days. It felt like forever. How much worse would it be when Brantley had been gone for weeks? Surely by the time it was months, she’d be over it.

“So.” Tolly took a sip of the wine Lanie had handed her and zeroed in on Lucy. “What’s this I hear about you having Thanksgiving at Caroline Brantley’s table?”

And Lucy laughed with delight in spite of herself.

* * *

“Lordy, I am stuffed.” Missy held up the long fork used to skewer the food. “I’ll be having some of those pots. And these forks. They would also make great weapons.” She playfully stabbed at Lanie.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had fondue,” Tolly said. “And I think the forks come with the pot.”

“When would I have had fondue?” Missy asked. “When have I been to Switzerland?”

“I haven’t been to Switzerland,” Lanie said. “And neither has Arabelle. But we’ve had fondue at the Melting Pot in Birmingham. Luke and Arabelle’s daddy loves it. If you weren’t such a snob about chain restaurants you could have had it too.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just start buying my candy at some chain instead of your fine establishment,” Missy shot back.

“That’s different,” Lanie said. And they all laughed.

Lucy reached into her purse and brought out a tiny wrapped package. “Before I forget,” she said handing it to Missy. “Here’s Lulu’s birthday present.” Missy, Harris, Tolly, and the kids were leaving the next day to go to Harris’s grandparents’ for Lulu’s first birthday. “It’s a charm for her bracelet. A little birthday cake with a one on it.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Missy said. “I am so glad you started that bracelet for her. I am the only southern woman on the planet who doesn’t have a charm bracelet and I would not have thought of it.”

Lanie said, “Arabelle has a great one. Twice the size of mine.”

Arabelle held up her wrist to show them the heavy charm laden gold bracelet. “It hasn’t grown as rapidly since Mimi died, but Mama still adds a charm occasionally. By the time Emma inherits it, she may need a gurney to haul it around.”

“Oh, Arabelle,” Lanie said. “Don’t say that. You’ll have your own little girl.”

“Maybe,” Arabelle said and got up to pour another round of wine.

“I tried to get Lucy to go with us to celebrate her namesake’s first birthday,” Missy said. “She said she had to work, but I know she doesn’t want to leave Brantley.”

“Not true. I would go, if I could. I do have to work. Besides, Brantley is leaving town tomorrow too. He and Will Garrett are going to a salvage place in Georgia to look at stuff for the Brantley Building.”

“Why aren’t you going with them?” Missy asked.

“Because,” Lucy said and lightly pounded the table for emphasis, “I have to work! I work. Why does no one believe me?”

They laughed. “Well, Lucy,” Lanie said, “you have to admit you were pretty vehement that nothing was going on between you and Brantley and the next thing we know, you’re kneeling at the altar with him for communion and eating Thanksgiving with his family.”

“I wasn’t lying,” Lucy said. “I was mistaken. Besides, don’t read too much into it. It’s early days.”

“I am reading everything into it,” Missy said firmly. “I am counting on it. I’m counting on you to keep him in Merritt and keep him away from Rita May Sanderson.”

At least Missy was honest about what she wanted.

Time to change the subject.

“Missy,” Lucy said. “I want to make a pumpkin pie. Could you send me a recipe?”

Missy looked triumphant and clapped her hands together. “Well, well, well. Could your sudden interest in baking be attributed to Brantley Kincaid and the esteem in which he holds pumpkin pie?”

Tolly and Lanie clapped their hands together, much as Missy had done, and made the sound of the female equivalent of a catcall. Even Arabelle smiled.

“I’ll email you the recipe I use before I leave in the morning. It’s great. I’ve made it a hundred times,” Missy promised.

“I need to talk about the Christmas parade,” Lanie said. “Last summer, when I agreed to donate the lollipops to give to the kids, I didn’t understand that I was also in charge of giving the lollipops out.”

“You don’t ask enough questions,” Missy said.

Lanie picked up her fondue fork and poked Missy’s arm.

“It’s true,” Missy said.

“Well, I’m about to ask you a question and the answer is going to be yes,” Lanie said. “I need y’all to give out lollipops at the Christmas parade.”

“Ride on a float and throw candy?” Missy said. “Sure. I love a float.”

“Well,” Lanie said, “you wouldn’t so much be riding on a float as you would be marching along side a float and handing out the candy. I am making these lollipops. I cannot make enough to throw willy-nilly into the crowd.” Lanie swallowed and looked around. “Besides, it will be more personal. Spread more Christmas cheer. You know.”

“Of course, we will do it for you, Lanie,” Lucy said. “We’ll be happy to. Won’t we, Missy?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah. It won’t be the same as riding on a float but, still, the parade.”

“What,” asked Tolly, who could never be accused of not asking enough questions, “will we be wearing?”

“That’s the other thing,” Lanie admitted. “There might be some cute green hats. Some shoes with turned up toes. Bells. Striped stockings.”

It took a second for it to sink in.

“Elves! We have to dress like elves?” That came from Missy.

Lanie shrugged.

Lucy rose and kissed Lanie’s cheek. “I will be proud to dress like an elf for you and give out the finest lollipops ever made. But I’m going to go now.”

Arabelle looked up in surprise. “You’re leaving before the book discussion?”

Missy, Lanie, Tolly, and Lucy exchanged looks and dissolved into laughter.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lucy sat in a front booth at Lou Anne’s eating a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich and studying the recipe that had been in her email box that morning.

“Well, hello there, Lucy. I didn’t see you sitting up here.” She looked up to see Charles Kincaid standing beside her table. He had his jacket over his arm and his check in his hand.

She turned the recipe face down. “I didn’t see you either,” she said. “We could have eaten together.” She would have enjoyed Brantley’s father’s company.

“I can sit a minute.” He sat down across from her. “I have the strangest inclination to call you baby girl.