Blackberry Crumble (27 page)

“Isn’t it great?” Lois said, looking around as well, a satisfied smile on her over-lipsticked lips. “Some of my favorite people in the world are here.” She looked at May, and her smiled turned from satisfaction to contentment. The difference was subtle, but Sadie could tell how pleased she was that May had come. “Did Gary take Jolene home? I was hoping he’d stop in for a minute.”

Sadie frowned. “He called and said he was running late. Jolene apparently insisted May come anyway.”

“Typical Jo-Jo,” Lois said with a smile. “Always thinking about everyone else.”

Sadie appreciated the optimism. “May wrapped the ice cream container in an old mohair blanket to keep it insulated until the dessert bar opens.”

“Oh, good,” Lois replied. “She put it on the dessert table?”

There had been two other blanket-wrapped containers when May had set hers down. “As soon as her arms were free, she was hugged and swept up in ‘I haven’t seen you in ages’ conversations.”

“Excellent,” Lois said. “That’s exactly what I had hoped would happen.”

Lois fussed with the napkins. Sadie looked for something else to say to keep the conversation going with the only other person she knew at this party besides May. “Your muffins were amazing, by the way. I hope you don’t mind that May let me copy the recipe from Leena’s file.”

Lois looked up from her napkin arranging. “Are you kidding? I’m flattered you enjoyed them so much.” She leaned toward Sadie and said conspiratorially, “They’re deceptively easy to make, aren’t they?”

Sadie nodded. “Which makes them even better.”

Lois beamed. “Thank you for your help in getting May to the party. We just love that girl, and I keep hoping one day she’ll come back home for good.”

Sadie’s gaze flickered to May, who seemed to be relaxing now that they were here. Connecting with old friends was always good for the soul. “It’s good for her to get reacquainted,” she said. “Other than the funeral, it’s been a long time since she’s been here, hasn’t it?”

Lois nodded, placing the last short stack of napkins on the table and cocking her head to the side. She made a final adjustment. “It certainly has been,” she said, frowning.

“It amazes me how she can smile through it all.”

“Well, that’s May,” Lois said brightly. “Leena used to say that we didn’t need as much sunshine as the rest of the world because we had May in ours. Of course, as much as I hate to say it, she’s lost some of that brightness that came so easy when she was young.”

“I guess life has a way of doing that.”

“Yes,” Lois said. “I suppose that’s true.”

“I take it you and May’s mother were close,” Sadie said, hoping to learn more family information from this woman who obviously knew the Sandersons very well.

Lois nodded. “Bart and I moved to the neighborhood a few years after Jim and Leena. May’s mother was my very best friend.”

“It must have been very hard when she passed.”

“The hardest,” Lois said, thoughtfully. “I’ve lost two husbands after long illnesses, which wasn’t any easier, but there’s something about a young mother leaving children behind that . . . ” She cleared her throat. “That makes it twice as painful. I’ve done everything I can to take those kids under my wing since then.”

“That’s wonderful,” Sadie said, tears rising. She didn’t know these people very well, but it broke her heart to hear about the tragedies May’s family had experienced. She was glad they had people like Lois to help try to fill the void left behind.

A man with an apron that said “Kick the Cook” brought over a platter of hamburgers. “I think we’re ready to get dinner started,” he said, putting the platter in the space Lois made between the potluck dishes. It was affirming to know that, though she was far from home, there were familiar rituals that made Sadie feel so comfortable with these people. “The veggie burgers still need another couple of minutes.” Well, not everything was familiar.

Lois signaled to one of the men lording over the barbeque grills, and he emitted a shrill whistle that made Sadie jump. However, it did the trick, and the conversations muted as everyone automatically turned to Lois. Clearly, they’d done this before. A man in his thirties appeared at Lois’s side and helped her step up onto a wooden chair. He stayed close by, for which Sadie was grateful. Women Lois’s age shouldn’t stand on chairs; it wasn’t safe. But it was effective in that she set herself above the crowd, if only barely, due to the fact that she was so petite.

“I am so thrilled to see so many of you here tonight,” Lois said once she had her balance, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “This is the highlight of my summer, and we are so lucky to have so many wonderful friends living close by.” A murmur of agreement wove through the crowd.

Sadie nodded right along with them, even though she was a stranger. The good-neighborliness was contagious.

Lois continued. “I would like to especially welcome our own Sharla-May.” Heads turned to look at May, who ducked her head and smiled. “We all miss Jim so very much.” A blanket of sorrow fell on the crowd. “But we are so happy to have part of him here with us tonight, and not just in Sharla-May.” The tone of her voice lifted, and the mood seemed to follow it. Lois had power with these people. “She brought Jim’s famous bacon ice cream.” A cheer went up, and Lois grinned. “Well, enough of this talk. Let’s eat—just remember to hold off on the desserts until after you’ve had dinner.” She wagged her finger at the group and closed one eye. “I’ll be watching.” Everyone laughed, and the man who’d stood guard helped Lois down from the chair.

Within seconds, people were dishing up hamburgers and salads, laughing with each other, and commenting on Dorothy’s famous three-bean salad and Sherri’s homemade mustard pickles. This really did seem to be a highlight of the summer, and it made Sadie miss her own neighborhood get-togethers. Thinking about home caused her smile to falter a bit, though. She hoped that things would return to normal when she got back to Garrison, but the hope didn’t quiet the fear completely.

Rather than get lost in her thoughts, however, Sadie stayed on the edges of May’s conversations, speaking when spoken too, but mostly just listening to May give updates about her life to people she hadn’t seen for a long time. It was informative, though Sadie didn’t learn much beyond what she already knew. Quite frankly, May didn’t have much in her life other than her work, which wasn’t particularly interesting. She didn’t talk about a boyfriend or hobbies, and Sadie became certain that May’s life in Ohio was a rather lonely one.

They continued eating and chatting, but as soon as Sadie saw Lois uncovering desserts at the dessert table she excused herself.

“Can I help serve?” Sadie asked Lois. She put her empty plate in the trash and wiped her hands on a napkin.

“Oh, certainly.” Lois pointed at one of the ice cream canisters. “We need to take off the blankets, and then we need a server for each ice cream flavor. We can’t let people serve themselves or half the group ends up without anything at all.”

By the time Sadie had removed the blankets, May had taken her place behind her dad’s ice cream freezer. Sadie smiled at her and settled in behind what looked like strawberry ice cream just in time for another shrill whistle and Lois’s invitation for people to now swarm the dessert table.

Sadie smiled at the people waiting for her scoop, introducing herself when needed, and looking into all these faces in hopes she could remember them to make notes later. She’d belatedly remembered her reason to be here was to talk to the neighbors about what they might have seen the night Jim died. It was hard to focus with so much going on. It wasn’t until her container was half gone that she realized May wasn’t at the dessert table anymore. Instead, her canister and lid sat alone on the far end of the table. A teenage boy hurried to it, looked inside, and frowned. The bacon ice cream was gone, and Sadie kicked herself for not getting a scoop. She’d really wanted to try it.

“Well, the crowds are thinning,” Lois said from behind Sadie. “We can just put the tops on and let people serve themselves from here on out. Thanks for your help.”

“Of course,” Sadie said.

“So, what’s your poison?” Lois asked. “And don’t tell me you’re on some kind of diet. We all agree that there are no calories allowed at the summer picnic.”

Sadie laughed. “Calories would be tragic,” she said, looking at the freezers. “I think I’ll just stick with this one,” she said, indicating her own container. Mostly she just didn’t want Lois to serve her. Despite the older woman’s obvious vitality, she’d been running at full throttle all evening. Sadie dished herself up a bowl of strawberry while Lois chose a bowl of peach. Sadie might try that one next. She’d need to be sure and satisfy herself, otherwise she’d pine for the bacon ice cream all night. Once Lois had served herself, and Sadie had filled a plate with the picked-over desserts, the two of them mutually retired to a row of chairs at the edge of the patio.

“I met Hugh for the first time this afternoon,” Sadie said, watching Lois carefully. She wasn’t disappointed. The slight tightening around Lois’s eyes betrayed that she was not quite as fond of Hugh as she was of May. Rather than supply a direction for the conversation to follow, Sadie took a bite of ice cream and hoped Lois would pick up the thread of conversation for her.

“I hope he was polite,” Lois said.

“I suppose he could have been worse,” Sadie said. “I’ve been trying to figure him out ever since. There’s something . . . evasive about him.”

Lois flicked a look in Sadie’s direction, and Sadie felt her heart rate pick up a little bit. Lois agreed with her. Sadie could only hope she’d confirm it out loud.

“That sounds about right,” Lois said, taking a small bite. “He cloaks his weaknesses in piety and complains when other people judge.”

“Piety?” Sadie repeated. “Religion?”

“Not that kind of piety,” Lois said. “He’s one of those vegan people,” she said with a wave of her hand and a roll of her eyes. “He can’t sit down to a meal without trying to convert you. If you ask me, however, if I’m ever going to convert to anyone else’s way of doing things, they’d better convince me that it makes them happy. Life is too short and too fraught with road hazards for me to do something on purpose that makes me miserable.”

“I’ll eat to that,” Sadie said, lifting her spoon as though making a toast and taking a bite of ice cream. That very philosophy was why Sadie hadn’t crumbled after Neil had died, and why she didn’t really mind the extra twenty pounds on her backside. Life was meant to be enjoyed, and when it wasn’t, then something was wrong.

“I’m interested to see how he’ll manage with the whole business in his lap now,” Sadie said.

“Especially without Jim there to save him anymore.”

Ding, ding, ding. Sadie was on to something. “Exactly.”

Lois took another bite and looked at Sadie carefully. “Did May say something about the handouts?”

“Not much,” Sadie said. “Mostly, he just didn’t strike me as the kind of guy I’d want overseeing my interests in the company, that’s all.”

Lois took a few bites. “I’ve had the same concerns,” she finally said. “But I don’t want to burden May with borrowed trouble.”

“Of course not,” Sadie said. “She’s in no position to carry more than she already is. I’m just trying to get to know May’s family, and I’m curious about Hugh. If he can’t manage his life, well, that says a lot about him. And if Jim was willing to bail him out, that says a lot about Jim.”

Lois considered that, but soon enough Sadie saw her let down her guard. Lois liked to tell a story, and Sadie was all ears. “That boy has cost his parents so much money,” she said. “Jim became more tightfisted those last few years, though.”

“Oh,” Sadie said, unsure whether Lois was for or against Jim’s actions. “With that kind of financial history, do you think Hugh can run the business?” Sadie said, jumping to conclusions and hoping that Lois would revise them.

“He knows the business,” Lois said, stirring her ice cream slowly. “I won’t argue that, but, well . . .” She looked to where May was talking to an older couple. “Hugh’s always been rather high maintenance.”

“That’s what I figured,” Sadie said, though she didn’t really understand what Lois meant. She tried a different tack. “I heard he was part of the reason for the fallout Jim had with a business partner a few years back.”

“He wasn’t just
part
of it,” Lois said. “He was ninety percent of the problem. What did May say about it?”

“That Jim’s partner didn’t want Hugh to be a supervisor because he didn’t have a degree.” Sadie realized that was the same reason Keith had told Richard to go to school, at least until it worked better for Keith for his son not to have that degree. Interesting hypocrisy. “I sensed there might be more to it than that.”

“Did May give you that impression?” Lois asked intently, forcing Sadie to tell the truth.

“No,” Sadie said, studying Lois as casually as possible in hopes it would guide her forward. This was a fragile conversation, and she needed to proceed with caution. “May only mentioned the degree and Mr. Kelly’s lack of character as the reasons. After meeting Hugh, though, I found something a little distrustful in him and wondered if the issues the business partner had with him were more than educational. But, then, if that were true, why wouldn’t May know about it?”