china and held them to her chest with one hand as one would a small child. It was rather sad, really, so I got down on the floor with her to pick up what I could.
By the time we’d picked up what was possible to get without a vacuum, Rayna had Chen Ling firmly in hand and the other Divas were fairly composed. Bitty deposited remnants of teapot and cups on the still intact tray and managed a shaky laugh.
“I apologize for this, ladies. Usually Chen Ling is much better behaved.”
Since all the Divas knew better, I looked around for Trina to see how she was dealing with the unexpected arrival of a fat pug in the middle of our tea tray. About the time I realized she was no longer in the room, I heard the roar of a car starting and tires squeal on the street outside Six Chimneys.
Apparently, Trina Madewell had made her escape.
CHAPTER 5
Holly Springs, Mississippi has a population of less than ten thousand people, and according to statistical records, that population is fairly even in the ratio of male to female. Considering those facts, you would think there would be enough eligible men for eligible women. Apparently, this is not the case.
Or so I have been led to believe by the inexplicable actions of a few citizens.
In my youth, I was admonished on several occasions about the evils of gossip. My admonisher was nearly always my mother. We children received strict lessons on the proprieties and improprieties in social graces. Gossip was then regarded as harmful to not only the person being gossiped about, but the impressionable soul of the person doing the gossiping. I tell you this only because I now regard those lessons with some regret.
Bitty and I were seated in the garden shade of Rayna Blue’s home, the Delta Inn. It’s a lovely historic hotel being considered for registration with the historical society. While Bitty and Rayna theorized about motives for Race’s murder, I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling them what I’d heard only that morning from my own mother.
Sidebar here: As she ages, Mama regards some information about our neighbors as necessary, and some as just gossip. The catch is that I can never tell which is which, so I have to wait until she asks a direct question or chooses to share a juicy tidbit with me. If she shares, she’s quite likely to hang a restriction on it, such as not to pass it on.
Mama had done that very thing earlier in the day after telling me how Trina Madewell had made a huge scene at church last year when she accused her sister of trying to steal her boyfriend. It had been on a Sunday when the minister had decided to try an innovative approach to the entire “confession is good for the soul” thing. He should have left it to the Catholics. Methodists don’t seem to be as good at it. Or maybe as used to it. My opinion is that confession is only good for the soul when it is not shared with the wronged party. Anyway, Atonement Day was a disaster from start to finish.
There were two fistfights in the pews, a scuffle in the vestibule, and the screaming match between Trina and Trisha in the church parking lot. Mama reported that it may have been just coincidence, but two couples from the congregation filed for divorce the week after the Atonement Day event.
Mama had been an unwilling witness to the Madewell hysteria in the parking lot. It wasn’t a scene she was likely to forget.
“I thought they were going to snatch each other bald the way they kept yanking at each other’s hair,” Mama had mused over a second cup of coffee, while Daddy went out to the barn to feed the furry flocks their morning cat chow. As she was battling the start of a summer cold, Mama stayed in to sit with me while I ate a breakfast of sugary cereal and drank coffee with sweetener. There is no rhyme or reason to my dietary choices most of the time.
At any rate, Mama was in a talkative mood, and after I’d told her about the tea at Bitty’s house and how it ended, it reminded her
By the time we’d picked up what was possible to get without a vacuum, Rayna had Chen Ling firmly in hand and the other Divas were fairly composed. Bitty deposited remnants of teapot and cups on the still intact tray and managed a shaky laugh.
“I apologize for this, ladies. Usually Chen Ling is much better behaved.”
Since all the Divas knew better, I looked around for Trina to see how she was dealing with the unexpected arrival of a fat pug in the middle of our tea tray. About the time I realized she was no longer in the room, I heard the roar of a car starting and tires squeal on the street outside Six Chimneys.
Apparently, Trina Madewell had made her escape.
CHAPTER 5
Holly Springs, Mississippi has a population of less than ten thousand people, and according to statistical records, that population is fairly even in the ratio of male to female. Considering those facts, you would think there would be enough eligible men for eligible women. Apparently, this is not the case.
Or so I have been led to believe by the inexplicable actions of a few citizens.
In my youth, I was admonished on several occasions about the evils of gossip. My admonisher was nearly always my mother. We children received strict lessons on the proprieties and improprieties in social graces. Gossip was then regarded as harmful to not only the person being gossiped about, but the impressionable soul of the person doing the gossiping. I tell you this only because I now regard those lessons with some regret.
Bitty and I were seated in the garden shade of Rayna Blue’s home, the Delta Inn. It’s a lovely historic hotel being considered for registration with the historical society. While Bitty and Rayna theorized about motives for Race’s murder, I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling them what I’d heard only that morning from my own mother.
Sidebar here: As she ages, Mama regards some information about our neighbors as necessary, and some as just gossip. The catch is that I can never tell which is which, so I have to wait until she asks a direct question or chooses to share a juicy tidbit with me. If she shares, she’s quite likely to hang a restriction on it, such as not to pass it on.
Mama had done that very thing earlier in the day after telling me how Trina Madewell had made a huge scene at church last year when she accused her sister of trying to steal her boyfriend. It had been on a Sunday when the minister had decided to try an innovative approach to the entire “confession is good for the soul” thing. He should have left it to the Catholics. Methodists don’t seem to be as good at it. Or maybe as used to it. My opinion is that confession is only good for the soul when it is not shared with the wronged party. Anyway, Atonement Day was a disaster from start to finish.
There were two fistfights in the pews, a scuffle in the vestibule, and the screaming match between Trina and Trisha in the church parking lot. Mama reported that it may have been just coincidence, but two couples from the congregation filed for divorce the week after the Atonement Day event.
Mama had been an unwilling witness to the Madewell hysteria in the parking lot. It wasn’t a scene she was likely to forget.
“I thought they were going to snatch each other bald the way they kept yanking at each other’s hair,” Mama had mused over a second cup of coffee, while Daddy went out to the barn to feed the furry flocks their morning cat chow. As she was battling the start of a summer cold, Mama stayed in to sit with me while I ate a breakfast of sugary cereal and drank coffee with sweetener. There is no rhyme or reason to my dietary choices most of the time.
At any rate, Mama was in a talkative mood, and after I’d told her about the tea at Bitty’s house and how it ended, it reminded her
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