Faye hung up and went back to her room. She was ashamed to admit it to herself, but she was relieved to see that Stephanie, Yvonna, and Ayesha had left. Tossing on a sundress that she hoped was Peabody-worthy, she left, and she didn’t bother with good-byes beyond a text to Jeremiah telling him she’d be back after dinner. He could deal with a sometimes-fractious group of young adults. She had a date with a little girl and some ducks.
Chapter Twenty
“I wish I knew why my sweet Frida was so dressed up when she passed.” Laneer’s hand shook as he held out a cup of coffee for Faye. “But I just don’t. I can’t stop wondering who that precious soul wanted to look so pretty for. How did she spend her last night on this Earth?”
Faye took the cup quickly, but not quickly enough to keep him from sloshing a few drops into the bone china saucer. He had offered to feed her lunch, poking around in a pantry stocked with jars of vegetables he’d canned himself, and not much else. Faye wasn’t about to take food that he needed for himself, and for Kali.
“I had an early lunch before I came, and I’ll be eating again at The Peabody, but thank you for offering,” she’d said quickly. “I just came to pick up Kali and to check on you.”
And, apparently, on Sylvia, who had appeared at the front door before Faye had even passed through it. She must live somewhere on the same street as Laneer. Faye wasn’t sure which house was Sylvia’s, but she was pretty sure the woman spent her life at her front window, waiting for something interesting to pass by. This afternoon, Faye’s car had been the interesting thing that got Sylvia out of her house.
If Faye’s car hadn’t budged Sylvia from her window, then the car pulling into Laneer’s driveway would have. It was a 1990s-era Cadillac, as blue as the sky and well-waxed, and it moved like a barge. Faye watched out the window as Walt Walker stepped out of it, sharply dressed in khakis and a flame red shirt that clashed with the small pink backpack in his hands.
Laneer greeted him at the front door, saying, “Come in. There’s lots of coffee and it’s hot,” but his eyes said, “Why are you here?”
Ever affable, Kali’s schoolteacher smiled at the wary Laneer as he held out the pink backpack. “I hope I’m not intruding, but it occurred to me that I made a bad mistake yesterday. I stopped by because I was worried that Kali didn’t pick up her food for the weekend, but I didn’t bring her the food. That was a bit stupid.”
Laneer said, “We thank you,” and took the backpack. “Like I said, the coffee’s hot.”
As Laneer sat with Faye, Sylvia, and Walt, sipping coffee, Laneer jerked his head in the direction of a closed door. “She’s been in that bedroom all morning. I told her that if she went out the window, I’d come get her and then I’d nail it shut. So far, she’s stayed put, but she won’t come out here and talk to me. Meantime, I just had to answer the phone when Armand called to find out why Frida didn’t come to work last night. He said he’d been texting her all day. It was so hard to tell that man what happened to her.”
“I met Armand today,” Faye said. “He seems nice. Charming, certainly.”
“Well, he was fussing from the time I picked up the phone ’cause he had to clean his own restaurant his own self. It shut him up when I told him what happened. He took on pretty bad when he heard about Frida. He said not to worry about her paycheck, nor the next one. Said he’d clean the place personally all the rest of the month, just so’s he could afford to send me Frida’s whole check. One last time.”
They all sat silent for a moment, then Sylvia put her hand on Laneer’s. “People can be kind, sometimes.”
“Yeah, sometimes.” Laneer passed around the coffee cups, managing to control his jittering right hand long enough to pour Sylvia’s coffee.
“This china is so pretty!” Faye said, holding her own cup and saucer up to the light. Garlands of pink roses encircled both pieces.
“My mama painted it, long time ago.”
He set out another china cup and filled it with a little coffee and a lot of milk. A lot of sugar, too.
“Kali! I made you some coffee the way you like it, and it’s in your favorite cup. Come drink it with us.” The little girl’s cup was as pretty as Faye’s cup, only the roses were yellow. A single red rose bloomed on the side of the cup he’d handed to Sylvia.
Laneer had pulled two dun-brown mugs out of a yellow-painted kitchen cabinet for Walt and for himself. Faye felt self-conscious drinking out of her beautiful cup when her host’s mug was dull and chipped, but she would have felt even more self-conscious if she’d insisted that he or Walt take it, calling attention to the fact that he didn’t have enough of his special china to go around.
Faye’s grandmother had always said that nice china was meant to be used. Faye could hear her voice proclaiming, “Life is worth celebrating. Good china makes things taste better.” Taking a sip of her coffee, Faye decided that her grandmother was right. She raised it as if toasting Laneer and said, “This is delicious. Thank you.”
Sylvia turned her eyes to Kali’s closed door. “She ain’t said a word since you left. Ain’t ate a thing, nor drunk anything.” Sneaking another spoon of sugar into the little girl’s coffee, she called out, “Kali, come on! We made your coffee the way you like it, and it’s getting cold.”
“I miss my girl talking to me,” Laneer said. “We’ve been buddies since she was a little bitty thing. She talked to
