Small Town Rumors(19)

“I sure will. Shall I bring the truck to Nadine’s and we’ll go from there?”

Lettie nodded. “That’ll be fine, and if you get bored over at your mama’s, come on to Nadine’s and you can help us get ready for our little party.”

“Who all’s comin’?” Jennie Sue asked.

“Much as Amos makes me mad with his constant chatter, his dear wife was my friend, so I invited him and the folks that go to our book club. Nadine always invites her Sunday-school class, so we’ll have quite a little bunch. Then afterward we have desserts at my house. Already got them made and ready to serve. If you’ll help me with them, I’ll keep track of your hours and pay the same as when you clean for me.”

“My benefit package includes the apartment. Your benefit includes anything I do other than the cleaning responsibilities.” Jennie Sue pulled into Nadine’s driveway.

From the outside, the house was shaped a lot like Lettie’s, only it had a carport instead of a garage with an apartment above it. And instead of being painted yellow, it had white clapboard siding. But the big picture window with lacy curtains drawn back to reveal a table with a lamp in the center was the same and reminded Jennie Sue of the stylized pictures that she’d drawn as a child.

“We’ll take the stuff in through the kitchen door.” Lettie got out of the truck and headed to the back to open the tailgate. “I put things close to the end, so neither one of us has to climb up inside. You get that box, and I’ll take these two sacks and then you can come back for the potatoes. So we can expect you back here by eight o’clock?”

“Or before,” Jennie Sue answered as she picked up the box in one hand and the potatoes in another. “Something sure smells good.”

“I’m smokin’ a brisket, two chickens, and a pork loin.” Nadine came from the back of the house. “I just put more pecan chips in the smoker.”

“Are you expecting an army?” Jennie Sue asked.

“Maybe, but if there’s leftovers, we can eat on them all week.” Nadine opened the kitchen door for them. “I love this holiday. Christmas is about presents. Thanksgiving is about families getting together. ’Course since it’s just me and Lettie, that’s a sad one. But the Fourth is a fun time when friends can all gather up and have a good visit.”

Ninety years old and still making a meal for a crowd—Jennie Sue wanted to grow up and be just like her. She tried to imagine her mother or any one of the Sweetwater Belles at ninety, wearing a pair of baggy bibbed overalls and a faded T-shirt. Nope, the visual wouldn’t appear, no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Just put all that on the table. Me and Lettie will get busy and make up the sides that go in the refrigerator first. We ain’t spring chickens anymore, so we sit as much as we work, but we always enjoy the day,” Nadine said.

Lettie poked her thin arm. “Speak for yourself. The only reason we do one big holiday a year is because you are so bossy.”

“Well, Flora was the oldest. She said that gave her the right to boss me. When you came along, it was my turn, so stop your bellyachin’. If you’d wanted someone to boss, you shoulda got married and had kids.” Nadine pulled macaroni noodles from the box.

“I didn’t want a husband tellin’ me what to do,” Lettie snapped. “Women don’t really need a man except for sex, and you don’t have to stand in front of a preacher and promise to love and obey to get that when you need it. Jennie Sue can back me up on that, can’t you?”

Jennie Sue’s face burned. “I think I’ll leave you two to discuss that all by yourselves. I’ll see you this evening, and, Nadine, I’d love it if you’d save me a slice or two of that brisket.”

“Consider it done.” Nadine stopped and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad you’ve come to work for us, girl.”

“Me, too.” Jennie Sue nodded.

With her face still on fire, she walked out of the house and got into the truck. Then the laughter started. Those two old ladies were a complete hoot. By the time she’d backed out and was on the road to her folks’ place, she was laughing like she hadn’t done in years. She braked at a stop sign and laid her head on the steering wheel. Once she finally got control of herself, she saw the little green sign pointing toward the cemetery.

She stared at it until a car behind her honked, and then she made a sharp left and drove down to the cemetery, through the gates, and straight to the Baker plot. Tears streamed down her face and dripped onto her shirt. Her baby had been buried right there in an unmarked grave for more than six months. There’d been no funeral, no saying goodbye—at the time, it seemed like the best thing to do, since she couldn’t leave the hospital, and there was no way she wanted her baby buried in New York. So while she was in the hospital with an infection, she’d let her mother take over the arrangements. She’d sent a pretty little white lace dress that she’d planned for Emily Grace to wear home. She didn’t even know if her mother had used it.

She opened the pickup door, and hot air rushed inside. She slung a leg out but couldn’t make herself move the other one. Maybe if she touched the grass above the place where she knew Emily Grace was buried, she’d have closure. But she couldn’t do it that day. She pulled her leg back inside the truck and slammed the door.