who he dated. Dixie Lee didn’t see it that way. So she set out to get back at her.”
When she paused for a sip of coffee and another bite of pie I glanced around at the others. Rayna was nodding her head like she remembered, and Gaynelle looked pensive. This was going to be good.
Bitty dabbed her mouth with a napkin and continued, “So Dixie Lee went out with Maybelle’s daddy.”
My eyes probably bugged out of my head. “Her daddy ? Are you kidding me?”
“As I live and breathe, that’s the truth. Maybelle just idolized her daddy. Her mother had died when she was still in elementary school, and she was an only child, so it was just the two of them. The sun rose and set at his direction as far as she was concerned.”
I sat back in my chair, amazed. “How long did they see each other?”
“Right up until two weeks after Maybelle stopped sleeping with Nathan Forrest. Then Dixie Lee went on a European tour to forget how heartbroken she was over her divorce, and by the time she came back it was pretty much all over with Mr. Greer. What was his first name? Do you remember, Gaynelle?”
“David, I think. That was so long ago. He died about eight or nine years back.”
“So where’s Maybelle now?” I asked.
Bitty smiled. “She lives with her husband over on Chulahoma. One of those newer houses built in the sixties.”
“What did Dixie Lee write about that?” I asked. “She didn’t tell everything, I imagine.”
“Oh, she told everything, all right, but she had some other character doing it all, not the main character who is supposed to be so sweet and beautiful. And we’re supposed to believe that’s Dixie Lee. Talk about fantasy fiction.” After a last bite of buttermilk pie Bitty added, “You really need to read the entire book, Trinket. From cover to cover. You’ll learn things your mama never told you, I bet on that.”
“So it seems. May I borrow your copy?”
“Remind me to give it to you when we get back to my house. I wish I hadn’t spent the money on it now. It just galls me to think Dixie Lee will profit from writing such trash.”
“So we have three viable suspects who may have written those death threats to Dixie Lee,” said Gaynelle. “What next?”
“I say we just go talk to them,” Rayna suggested. “Sometimes you can tell who’s lying and who isn’t when you catch people off-guard.”
“That’s true,” Gaynelle agreed. “We might as well start today, before something happens.”
“Count me out,” said Bitty. “I don’t really care who’s writing her those letters. I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten a whole sack full of death threats.”
“Well, she has certainly managed to alienate a large portion of the town,” Gaynelle said. “It was unwise of her to use real events that can still hurt people. It’d be different if all this happened a hundred years ago.”
Bitty looked at her. “Why, of course it would, Gaynelle. A hundred years ago Dixie Lee would have had to wear a scarlet letter on the front of her dress. Or she’d be dunked in a pond or put in stocks. That’s what they call those things where you put your head through a hole in the wood and someone locks it down so you can’t get out. I’d be the first one there with a dozen eggs to throw at her. Pelting her with rotten vegetables would be fun, too.”
I rolled my eyes. “We know what stocks are, Bitty. They weren’t in use a hundred years ago, either. Besides, if you’d been alive back then you might be locked up right next to her.”
“Trinket Truevine, that’s a mean thing to say to me.”
“Don’t take it personally. I’d probably be beside you. Divorced women weren’t that common. It was supposed to be shameful. And of course, it was rarely the fault of the husband. He could play around all he wanted, but it’d be the woman’s fault if there was a divorce.”
“Look at Wallis Simpson,” Gaynelle said. “King Edward lost his throne for marrying a divorced woman. Now
When she paused for a sip of coffee and another bite of pie I glanced around at the others. Rayna was nodding her head like she remembered, and Gaynelle looked pensive. This was going to be good.
Bitty dabbed her mouth with a napkin and continued, “So Dixie Lee went out with Maybelle’s daddy.”
My eyes probably bugged out of my head. “Her daddy ? Are you kidding me?”
“As I live and breathe, that’s the truth. Maybelle just idolized her daddy. Her mother had died when she was still in elementary school, and she was an only child, so it was just the two of them. The sun rose and set at his direction as far as she was concerned.”
I sat back in my chair, amazed. “How long did they see each other?”
“Right up until two weeks after Maybelle stopped sleeping with Nathan Forrest. Then Dixie Lee went on a European tour to forget how heartbroken she was over her divorce, and by the time she came back it was pretty much all over with Mr. Greer. What was his first name? Do you remember, Gaynelle?”
“David, I think. That was so long ago. He died about eight or nine years back.”
“So where’s Maybelle now?” I asked.
Bitty smiled. “She lives with her husband over on Chulahoma. One of those newer houses built in the sixties.”
“What did Dixie Lee write about that?” I asked. “She didn’t tell everything, I imagine.”
“Oh, she told everything, all right, but she had some other character doing it all, not the main character who is supposed to be so sweet and beautiful. And we’re supposed to believe that’s Dixie Lee. Talk about fantasy fiction.” After a last bite of buttermilk pie Bitty added, “You really need to read the entire book, Trinket. From cover to cover. You’ll learn things your mama never told you, I bet on that.”
“So it seems. May I borrow your copy?”
“Remind me to give it to you when we get back to my house. I wish I hadn’t spent the money on it now. It just galls me to think Dixie Lee will profit from writing such trash.”
“So we have three viable suspects who may have written those death threats to Dixie Lee,” said Gaynelle. “What next?”
“I say we just go talk to them,” Rayna suggested. “Sometimes you can tell who’s lying and who isn’t when you catch people off-guard.”
“That’s true,” Gaynelle agreed. “We might as well start today, before something happens.”
“Count me out,” said Bitty. “I don’t really care who’s writing her those letters. I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten a whole sack full of death threats.”
“Well, she has certainly managed to alienate a large portion of the town,” Gaynelle said. “It was unwise of her to use real events that can still hurt people. It’d be different if all this happened a hundred years ago.”
Bitty looked at her. “Why, of course it would, Gaynelle. A hundred years ago Dixie Lee would have had to wear a scarlet letter on the front of her dress. Or she’d be dunked in a pond or put in stocks. That’s what they call those things where you put your head through a hole in the wood and someone locks it down so you can’t get out. I’d be the first one there with a dozen eggs to throw at her. Pelting her with rotten vegetables would be fun, too.”
I rolled my eyes. “We know what stocks are, Bitty. They weren’t in use a hundred years ago, either. Besides, if you’d been alive back then you might be locked up right next to her.”
“Trinket Truevine, that’s a mean thing to say to me.”
“Don’t take it personally. I’d probably be beside you. Divorced women weren’t that common. It was supposed to be shameful. And of course, it was rarely the fault of the husband. He could play around all he wanted, but it’d be the woman’s fault if there was a divorce.”
“Look at Wallis Simpson,” Gaynelle said. “King Edward lost his throne for marrying a divorced woman. Now
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