“She did have a daunting time, but she is much stronger than she knows. She’ll come through this. Of that I am certain.” I tried to sound confident. In reality, I wasn’t sure myself.
“I wonder—” Clancy paused, took a deep breath, then charged ahead. “Do you think it would help if Abby and I moved into Manning Hall permanently?”
I was rendered speechless. Surely it was too soon to consider taking such a step. Dolores might jump at the chance, thinking it would strengthen her relationship with Abby. But what was Clancy’s true motive? Did he think he and Abby could live in Manning Hall rent free with an adoring and now-wealthy Granny Dolores? I had heard Willis tell Clancy that Dolores would be well provided for. Was this Clancy’s way of ensuring his share? He could access the benefits of Willis’s fortune without having to deal with the annoyance of Willis himself.
“I would think that would be something to be decided in a year or so, when Dolores has acclimated herself to life without Willis.”
If my response disappointed Clancy, he didn’t show it.
“That probably would be for the best. Dolores will need time, probably a lot of time.” Clancy turned and waved to his daughter. “Come on, Abby. It’s nearly dinnertime. We’d better get cleaned up.”
As they began to navigate the circular walk to the front of the house I heard Abby fret, “I don’t have to wash off my koala tattoo, do I?”
I smiled when I heard Clancy answer, “No, sweetie, you don’t.”
I headed for the back door, and as soon as I opened it the aroma of Cajun spices enveloped me, bringing back memories of my most recent trip to New Orleans. It would be fun to go back there sometime soon. Maybe in a few months I could talk Dolores into a girls’ jaunt to the Big Easy. I tucked that thought away for now.
Lucinda was drying her hands on a dish towel. “I was beginning to wonder where you’d gone off to. Marla Mae brought Miss Dolores a dinner tray in her room. I suppose Mr. Clancy, Abby, and Mr. Norman will be in the dining room. Would you care to join them, or would you like a tray?”
Before I could answer, the chimes in the hall and the buzzer in the kitchen sang out in direct competition with each other. For my money, the chimes would always win.
Lucinda started toward the hallway, but I held up my hand. “You have enough to do with dinner. It’s probably Clancy and Abby—they left the putting green and were walking to the front door at the same time I was coming to the kitchen.”
Lucinda nodded. “Mighty kind of you.”
Clancy must have already let himself in with a key, because when I opened the front door I was surprised to see Norman Crayfield standing on the veranda, pulling at the collar of his wrinkled tan dress shirt. “Oh, hi, Jessica. It is way too hot today for a button-down shirt.”
The driver of a green sedan at the edge of the veranda tapped the horn in a friendly good-bye, and I saw Tom Blomquist at the wheel. Norman ignored the beep, but I waved good-bye, at least in part to let Tom know that I had seen him.
“You’ll be glad you got back in time for dinner. There’s fresh-caught catfish.” I thought I would start the conversation on a genial note.
“That is great news. Nobody fries catfish like Lucinda—crispy outside and tender inside. And the spices! I hope she had time to make hush puppies. Mm-hmm.” Norman smacked his lips.
He had me there. “Well, I’m not sure about hush puppies, but I know there will be fresh asparagus.”
“Oh, there she goes, ruining a perfectly good dinner by adding healthy food.” Norman laughed.
I purposely caught him unawares when I said, “So you spent some time with Tom Blomquist. Did you happen to reach an agreement about the funding for Jessamine House?”
Norman looked awkward, but his response was strong. “No, never. How could I do that without Dolores’s consent? I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to address it after Willis is . . . well, after Willis is put to rest.” He ran a finger around his collar again. “I’d best change this shirt before dinner.”
He took the stairs two at a time, looking unexpectedly agile for a man his age.
No matter what Norman wanted me to believe about his business relationship with the Blomquists, Tom Blomquist’s chirpiness the last time I had seen him made me sure he, at least, was convinced that Norman would tell Dolores that the deal had been struck and that Dolores would be too caught up in her mourning to object.
I also wondered how Tom’s car had come through the gate. Plainly he had a clicker.
Marla Mae was in the dining room, setting the table for dinner. I told her not to set a place for me; then I walked back to the kitchen, where Lucinda was bustling about, seeing to the last-minute dinner preparations. “Did you decide where you want to eat tonight?”
I said I would like to eat in the kitchen if it was no bother. “It’s cozy in here, and smells so good. I’ve had a long day and don’t want to make small talk at the dinner table.”
My request seemed to put her on guard, but she could hardly say no.
I washed my hands at the kitchen sink, and while I was drying them I said to Lucinda, “I saw Marjory Ribault down at the kitchen garden today. She’d pulled up some asparagus. Is that something you allow? Are you two friends?”
Lucinda put her hands on her hips. “Those asparagus stalks are in the garden because Miss Marjory’s grandma planted them long before any of us were born. The entire kitchen garden was her grandma’s work. I know for a fact Miss Marjory still does her share
