The Strawberry Hearts Diner(59)

“That went amazingly wonderful.” Emily backed out of the swinging doors and set a big platter of food in front of him. “And this is on the house. We heard every word you said, and no one could have done better.”

“Thank you. I was just speakin’ from the heart. Folks like Carlton don’t know about the way we do things here in Pick. It probably went in one ear and out the other, but hopefully he doesn’t have a Teflon brain.”

Emily giggled, and Vicky frowned.

“Nothing sticks, Mama,” Emily explained.

It started with a giggle then went into laughter, and finally Vicky was grabbing napkins from the nearest dispenser to wipe the tears flowing down her cheeks. “I don’t imagine”—she hiccupped—“that we’ve seen the last of him, but you earned your breakfast. You ever think of goin’ into politics, Ryder?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll be happy to pitch a tent right here in Pick and work out of the office in Frankston until I’m old enough to retire.”

“Well, if you”—another hiccup—“ever change your mind, I’ll be your campaign manager.” Vicky poured a glass of water and took seven sips without coming up for air. Just like her mother always said, it stopped hiccups. If only she could make Carlton Wolfe disappear the same way.



The day went fast for Nettie, and that evening Vicky relegated her to sitting in a lawn chair. It was the first time that she hadn’t made her way through the cemetery helping a little here and there and bossing everywhere. She should be glad to be above the ground and not under it.

Nothing had changed in the more than sixty years she’d been coming to the cemetery cleanup day. Compliments of a group of FFA boys back in the forties, a metal sign above the entrance said PICK CEMETERY. Most of those guys now had tombstones in the newer section toward the back. One central road led past the oldest tombstones. Halfway to the back side, a road cut across the main thoroughfare. A water faucet was located at each of the four corners of that road, and hoses were stretched out every which way. Tomorrow morning every tombstone would be cleaned and shining, and there wouldn’t be a weed in sight.

Woody set a chair beside her and eased his lanky frame down into it. “Glad to see you here. Wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Or you. We’re the old folks now. Remember when our parents were the ones who sat in chairs and watched the young folks work?” Nettie sighed.

“Yep,” Woody agreed. “But we ain’t ready to turn up our toes just yet. Right now we got to save our strength for that wolf that’s still knockin’ on our door. Sorry son of a gun can’t take no for an answer. He was in town again today.”

“Ryder put him in his place,” Nettie said. “Hey, Jancy, your granny’s grave looks good. Elaine would be right proud of you takin’ care of it on cleanup day.”

Jancy pulled up a dandelion. Then she stood up and took a couple of long strides, sitting down on the grass beside Nettie. “I can feel Mama’s spirit. Does that sound crazy?”

“Not a bit. We all feel that way on this day,” Woody answered. “It brings back memories, and that’s a good thing, not a crazy one. And when the folks come home for the festival and visit their departed loved ones, they’ll have the same feeling.”

“I wish Mama and I could have participated in this when we were here, but Granny was in the hospital that day and we spent it with her. I remember that she fussed and said we should be here instead of there, but they thought she wouldn’t make it through the day. She lived almost another year, though,” Jancy said.

Nettie laid a hand on Jancy’s shoulder. The child had been through too much for a kid her age. She needed to shed those wandering wings and let love surround her right there in Pick.

“It wasn’t time and she was determined not to leave this world except in her house. I’m glad that Elaine could be with her during those months,” Nettie said.

“Hey, girl,” Vicky yelled from fifty yards away. “If you are done there, I can use some help this way.”

Jancy popped up on her feet and jogged in that direction, her ponytail whipping back and forth.

“Oh, to be able to do that again.” Woody sighed.

“What? Grow enough hair to make a ponytail?” Nettie teased.

“No, woman! Hop up like that and then run. My bones would threaten to break if I took a step, and if I took off in a run, I’d sprawl out flat on my face,” Woody said.

“Maybe we are ready for these chairs,” Nettie said.

“Speak for yourself, Nettie Fields.” Woody grinned. “Want a cold orange soda pop?”

“Love one,” Nettie said.

He pulled two cans from a small cooler beside his chair, popped the top on one, and handed it to her. “Just like when we were kids.”

“Wouldn’t be the same without it or getting to drink it with you.” Nettie clicked her can with his. “I miss Irma today. The three of us kids couldn’t wait until snack time so we could get one of the ones our mothers brought.” She held the can up to get a better look at it. “Only in those days it came in bottles.”

“Memories.” He smiled.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Jancy could feel Emily’s edginess that Sunday morning when they opened up the diner and got ready for the breakfast run. The energy in the place was off—not bad, not good, just eerily strange. But then, Jancy could understand it. She’d never been in that exact position, but there had been times like that in her life. Like when she testified against her crazy boyfriend for stealing cars and the friends she’d made at the fast-food place kept their distance. Anxiety affected folks the same.