time of trial.
“We ask that you help each one of us connect with your divine self, that we may be empowered by you and your love, and that Jessie Pearl may receive all your love and grace.”
We all stood silent for a moment, taking in the words Randi had offered. It wasn’t your typical Baptist or Methodist, or even Catholic offering, and I got the impression that none of the Red Hatters knew quite what to make of the prayer.
Finally, Coco arched a brow. “What the hell was that?” she demanded.
I thought Randi might shrink back from the criticism, but instead, she stood even taller. “You pray to God, I pray to the Goddess,” she said. “Jessie Pearl needs all the support she can get. You’re her daughter, you should know that.”
“Thank you for that, Randi,” Cynthia said, clearing her throat. “Let’s have a more traditional offering, too.” She went on before anyone else could say a word, her voice ringing out clear and strong. “Dear Lord, we ask that you watch over Jessie Pearl, Sherri, Coco, Todd, and especially Megan and Anson as they grieve the loss of Delta. We ask this in the name of your son, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone said at once.
And just like that, the little prayer circle disbanded.
If Randi was offended at the second prayer, she didn’t leton. “Should we cancel the progressive dinner?” she asked, not really directing the question to anyone in particular, but more to the room at large.
Coco was the first to respond. “No, it should go on as planned. We need to make things upbeat for Mother.”
“She needs to grieve, Coco,” Sherri said, once again shaking her head as if she just didn’t understand her sister.
“And she’ll have plenty of time to grieve, but we need to keep things normal. We can’t let her sink into her sorrow or we might never get her back out again.”
The ladies all nodded in silent agreement. Jessie Pearl was going to need a lot of support as she came to terms with losing her eldest daughter.
“Harlow Jane!” The Dutch door in the kitchen was flung open and Mama’s voice rang through the house. “Harlow Jane, I’ve got news. You’ll never believe it. Hoss said that woman, your neighbor? She was murd—”
Mama came through the archway between the kitchen and dining room and stopped short, a startled expression on her face when she saw all the people still gathered in a circle in the front room. “What the devil?” she blurted.
“Mama, this is the Red Hat group I was telling you about.” I swung my arm toward Coco and Sherri. “These are Jessie Pearl Trapper’s daughters.”
Mama sputtered, regaining her composure. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said to them. “If I can do anythin’ to help your mother, you be sure to let me know.”
The women all stared at Mama, looking flummoxed. Only Coco had the wherewithal to speak her mind. “What were you saying about Delta?”
I already knew what she’d been about to say. It wasn’thard to fill in the blank on the word she’d cut short. It had been in the forefront of my mind since this morning’s discovery of the body. And it had been a word far too present in my life since I’d been back in Bliss.
Murder.
Before Mama could answer, a cell phone rang. Then another. In mere seconds both Coco and Sherri had answered their phones, and they were both listening intently.
“Hit with it? That can’t be right, Sheriff,” Sherri said. So she was talking to Hoss.
Coco muttered something under her breath and hung up without saying anything more. I suspected the bearer of bad news for her had been Deputy Sheriff Gavin McClaine, Hoss’s son. We’d run in different crowds in high school, but he’d found his confidence since he’d joined his dad’s posse. Overconfident. If he weren’t halfway decent at his job—and in love with one of my best friends, Orphie Cates—he would have driven me completely batty.
Coco and Sherri looked at each other. Sherri’s
“We ask that you help each one of us connect with your divine self, that we may be empowered by you and your love, and that Jessie Pearl may receive all your love and grace.”
We all stood silent for a moment, taking in the words Randi had offered. It wasn’t your typical Baptist or Methodist, or even Catholic offering, and I got the impression that none of the Red Hatters knew quite what to make of the prayer.
Finally, Coco arched a brow. “What the hell was that?” she demanded.
I thought Randi might shrink back from the criticism, but instead, she stood even taller. “You pray to God, I pray to the Goddess,” she said. “Jessie Pearl needs all the support she can get. You’re her daughter, you should know that.”
“Thank you for that, Randi,” Cynthia said, clearing her throat. “Let’s have a more traditional offering, too.” She went on before anyone else could say a word, her voice ringing out clear and strong. “Dear Lord, we ask that you watch over Jessie Pearl, Sherri, Coco, Todd, and especially Megan and Anson as they grieve the loss of Delta. We ask this in the name of your son, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
“Amen,” everyone said at once.
And just like that, the little prayer circle disbanded.
If Randi was offended at the second prayer, she didn’t leton. “Should we cancel the progressive dinner?” she asked, not really directing the question to anyone in particular, but more to the room at large.
Coco was the first to respond. “No, it should go on as planned. We need to make things upbeat for Mother.”
“She needs to grieve, Coco,” Sherri said, once again shaking her head as if she just didn’t understand her sister.
“And she’ll have plenty of time to grieve, but we need to keep things normal. We can’t let her sink into her sorrow or we might never get her back out again.”
The ladies all nodded in silent agreement. Jessie Pearl was going to need a lot of support as she came to terms with losing her eldest daughter.
“Harlow Jane!” The Dutch door in the kitchen was flung open and Mama’s voice rang through the house. “Harlow Jane, I’ve got news. You’ll never believe it. Hoss said that woman, your neighbor? She was murd—”
Mama came through the archway between the kitchen and dining room and stopped short, a startled expression on her face when she saw all the people still gathered in a circle in the front room. “What the devil?” she blurted.
“Mama, this is the Red Hat group I was telling you about.” I swung my arm toward Coco and Sherri. “These are Jessie Pearl Trapper’s daughters.”
Mama sputtered, regaining her composure. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said to them. “If I can do anythin’ to help your mother, you be sure to let me know.”
The women all stared at Mama, looking flummoxed. Only Coco had the wherewithal to speak her mind. “What were you saying about Delta?”
I already knew what she’d been about to say. It wasn’thard to fill in the blank on the word she’d cut short. It had been in the forefront of my mind since this morning’s discovery of the body. And it had been a word far too present in my life since I’d been back in Bliss.
Murder.
Before Mama could answer, a cell phone rang. Then another. In mere seconds both Coco and Sherri had answered their phones, and they were both listening intently.
“Hit with it? That can’t be right, Sheriff,” Sherri said. So she was talking to Hoss.
Coco muttered something under her breath and hung up without saying anything more. I suspected the bearer of bad news for her had been Deputy Sheriff Gavin McClaine, Hoss’s son. We’d run in different crowds in high school, but he’d found his confidence since he’d joined his dad’s posse. Overconfident. If he weren’t halfway decent at his job—and in love with one of my best friends, Orphie Cates—he would have driven me completely batty.
Coco and Sherri looked at each other. Sherri’s
Similar Books
