Murder at the Bellamy Mansion by Ellen Elizabeth Hunter Page B
Authors: Ellen Elizabeth Hunter
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to eat. And that was to keep up my strength.”
I swatted him on the arm. “Ouch,” he cried, and pulled me into his arms for a hug.
8
On Sunday morning, Melanie and I attended church services at St. James Episcopal Church. St. James has been our family’s church for generations. This was the first time we’d been back since our double wedding here on December twenty-second.
“ We’ll have a party soon to watch the video of the ceremony,” Melanie said. “Out at the lodge. Maybe even have some of the wedding party join us. How’s Saturday after next for you?”
“ That’s a great idea, Mel. I think we’re free. I know we are. Want me to bring a casserole?”
Melanie snorted. “I remember your casseroles. Maybe we’d just better pick up some take out. Oh, look, here’s Aunt Ruby and Binkie.”
And I turned to see our Aunt Ruby and her husband Professor Benjamin Higgins approach our pew and then slide in with murmurs of greeting. Binkie had been my friend long before he and Aunt Ruby had rediscovered each other and began their long-distance courtship. In fact, Binkie had been like a father to both Melanie and me after our own father had died. Binkie is a history professor emeritus at UNCW. I realized that if anyone could fill in the voids on the monetary transactions that had occurred during the Civil War, Binkie would be the one. He is an expert on Lower Cape Fear history.
Binkie and Aunt Ruby are in their seventies. Aunt Ruby will not permit a strand of gray hair on her head. And she wears makeup and stylish clothes. She says she owes her youthful figure to a daily two mile walk, despite rain or shine.
Binkie is more sedentary, very comfortable looking, with his tweedy jackets and soft corduroy slacks. He has silvery hair and crisp, intelligent blue eyes.
After services, we followed Aunt Ruby and Binkie out of the church. On the sidewalk out front, Aunt Ruby invited us to lunch. “I have the most wonderful news, girls,” she said.
“ We’re due some good news,” I said. “I’d love to come for lunch, Aunt Ruby. And I have some questions for you, Binkie.”
He gave me a quick hug. “Always at your service, Ashley dear. My bride spent yesterday baking bread so we shall have the best sandwiches you girls have ever tasted.”
“ What about you, Melanie? Can you come?” Aunt Ruby asked.
“ I can, Aunt Ruby. The boys are playing golf. I don’t expect Cam home until mid-afternoon. We’ll meet you at your house. I’ll drive Ashley.”
Since I live only several blocks from St. James, I always walk to church services.
“ OK, meet you there,” Aunt Ruby called.
“ Come on, Ashley, this way,” Melanie said, leading the way to her car. And I trailed along. Don’t I always follow Melanie? She sees her role as the leader, and mine as the follower, and I am so pitiful, most times I fall lockstep right into my role. She drove south on Third, made a right turn and went over to Front Street to our Uncle Binkie’s charming little bungalow that he had inherited from his mother.
Aunt Ruby is our departed mother’s older sister, Ruby Chastain. As children, she and Binkie had been dance partners at the children’s dances held at the spectacular, big band Lumina Pavilion on Wrightsville Beach prior to World War II. The beautiful old Pavilion is gone now, destroyed by hurricanes and forces of nature, and the community’s failure to value their historic structures. Thankfully all that changed in the Seventies when preserving one’s heritage was recognized as the right thing to do.
Ruby and Binkie had lived unmarried, solitary lives – he in Wilmington, she in Savannah – until they met each other again last summer. Now they are grateful to be sharing their golden years as husband and wife.
We found parking spaces further down Front Street in front of the Governor Dudley mansion, and walked the block and a half back to Binkie’s bungalow.
Aunt Ruby was waiting for us
I swatted him on the arm. “Ouch,” he cried, and pulled me into his arms for a hug.
8
On Sunday morning, Melanie and I attended church services at St. James Episcopal Church. St. James has been our family’s church for generations. This was the first time we’d been back since our double wedding here on December twenty-second.
“ We’ll have a party soon to watch the video of the ceremony,” Melanie said. “Out at the lodge. Maybe even have some of the wedding party join us. How’s Saturday after next for you?”
“ That’s a great idea, Mel. I think we’re free. I know we are. Want me to bring a casserole?”
Melanie snorted. “I remember your casseroles. Maybe we’d just better pick up some take out. Oh, look, here’s Aunt Ruby and Binkie.”
And I turned to see our Aunt Ruby and her husband Professor Benjamin Higgins approach our pew and then slide in with murmurs of greeting. Binkie had been my friend long before he and Aunt Ruby had rediscovered each other and began their long-distance courtship. In fact, Binkie had been like a father to both Melanie and me after our own father had died. Binkie is a history professor emeritus at UNCW. I realized that if anyone could fill in the voids on the monetary transactions that had occurred during the Civil War, Binkie would be the one. He is an expert on Lower Cape Fear history.
Binkie and Aunt Ruby are in their seventies. Aunt Ruby will not permit a strand of gray hair on her head. And she wears makeup and stylish clothes. She says she owes her youthful figure to a daily two mile walk, despite rain or shine.
Binkie is more sedentary, very comfortable looking, with his tweedy jackets and soft corduroy slacks. He has silvery hair and crisp, intelligent blue eyes.
After services, we followed Aunt Ruby and Binkie out of the church. On the sidewalk out front, Aunt Ruby invited us to lunch. “I have the most wonderful news, girls,” she said.
“ We’re due some good news,” I said. “I’d love to come for lunch, Aunt Ruby. And I have some questions for you, Binkie.”
He gave me a quick hug. “Always at your service, Ashley dear. My bride spent yesterday baking bread so we shall have the best sandwiches you girls have ever tasted.”
“ What about you, Melanie? Can you come?” Aunt Ruby asked.
“ I can, Aunt Ruby. The boys are playing golf. I don’t expect Cam home until mid-afternoon. We’ll meet you at your house. I’ll drive Ashley.”
Since I live only several blocks from St. James, I always walk to church services.
“ OK, meet you there,” Aunt Ruby called.
“ Come on, Ashley, this way,” Melanie said, leading the way to her car. And I trailed along. Don’t I always follow Melanie? She sees her role as the leader, and mine as the follower, and I am so pitiful, most times I fall lockstep right into my role. She drove south on Third, made a right turn and went over to Front Street to our Uncle Binkie’s charming little bungalow that he had inherited from his mother.
Aunt Ruby is our departed mother’s older sister, Ruby Chastain. As children, she and Binkie had been dance partners at the children’s dances held at the spectacular, big band Lumina Pavilion on Wrightsville Beach prior to World War II. The beautiful old Pavilion is gone now, destroyed by hurricanes and forces of nature, and the community’s failure to value their historic structures. Thankfully all that changed in the Seventies when preserving one’s heritage was recognized as the right thing to do.
Ruby and Binkie had lived unmarried, solitary lives – he in Wilmington, she in Savannah – until they met each other again last summer. Now they are grateful to be sharing their golden years as husband and wife.
We found parking spaces further down Front Street in front of the Governor Dudley mansion, and walked the block and a half back to Binkie’s bungalow.
Aunt Ruby was waiting for us
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