Traces (27 page)

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Does that mean you forgive me for the fireman’s carry the other night?”

Heat crept into her cheeks as she recalled the image of hanging over his shoulder and then being plopped onto the truck seat, her skirt around her waist. “Not necessarily, but my mother would tan my hide if I didn’t offer you the proper Southern hospitality.”

“I’ll accept, then, before you change your mind.” His grin widened as he patted his stomach. “I’m starved.”

“Aren’t you always? Come on, then.”

Before long, everyone sat with steaming plates of food before them. The aromas of the meal made Meredith even hungrier. She scooped potatoes into her mouth, enjoying being with her family. Max’s presence added a pleasing tension to the atmosphere. The conversation verged on banter, laughter punctuating the meal.

Meredith contemplated Paulette’s situation. Her sister’s expression had softened with the passing of time at Twin Oaks. Yet she still faced an uncertain future. She had several decisions to make, not the least of which remained whether to keep her child or give it up for adoption. And if she chose to keep the baby, then how to provide the necessities. She also needed a roof over their heads. So many decisions and choices to make; perhaps the best thing for her to do was to face facts.

Meredith cleared her throat. “Paulette, don’t you have some news to share with Mom and Dad?”

Paulette gawped at Meredith. She swallowed and glanced at their parents. “News?” She squeaked out the word.

“Yes. You know.” Meredith paused, seeing understanding dawn in Paulette’s expression. “Johnny’s parting gift?”

“Mer, this isn’t the time to share such breaking news.” Paulette glanced at Max, then back to Meredith.

“Did you want me to leave?” Max folded his napkin, preparing to rise.

“No, it’s fine.” Paulette waved him back into his seat. “There’s nothing to share anyway.”

“Yes, there is. You can’t deny the truth forever. It will come out eventually.” Meredith sipped her wine and waited for Paulette to begin.

“Must I?” Paulette’s voice pleaded for commutation of her sentence.

“Yes.” Meredith waited, taking several deep breaths, seeing the curiosity on her parents’ faces. “Or I will.”

Paulette gripped her napkin with both hands, twisting it. “If you insist.” She twisted the cloth the other direction, observing her parents with wary eyes. She sighed, a long exhale releasing her reluctant admission. “I’m pregnant.”

Stunned silence ended with Dina clapping her hands. “I’m going to be a grandmother? Congratulations, Paulette! I’m so happy for you.”

“Pregnant?” Brock asked. “It’s Johnny’s?”

Paulette nodded.

“He took off for Alaska,” Meredith supplied. “He said he’s not ready to be a father.”

Brock frowned. “Who the hell is?”

Max laughed and folded his arms. “Congrats, Paulette. That’s wonderful.”

“Don’t rush the congratulations, folks.” Paulette twisted her napkin tighter. “I’m not sure I’m keeping it. Yet.”

Another moment of stunned silence followed.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Meredith said. “You’re planning to stay here for a while, right? You have time to make that decision.”

“You don’t mind my staying here?” Paulette turned hopeful eyes toward Meredith and laid the napkin back on her lap. “I’d like that.”

Meredith hoped she wouldn’t regret her offer. “Great. I’m glad that’s settled.”

“If I’m going to live here,” Paulette said, picking up her fork once more, “I have one request.”

Meredith’s protective shell erected at her sister’s words. “What might that be?”

“It may seem petty, but it feels odd eating with the tea set in here.” Paulette chewed slowly, her eyes darting to the sideboard.

Reflected in the shining silver were five faces turned to contemplate it. If the set had been a fly on the wall, what might it have told them about Grandpa Joe and his sisters? Why had Grace and Edith chosen to hide the silver and nothing else? Was no other item worth hiding? Or were more treasures hidden around the plantation? She’d have to keep reading those journals of Grandpa’s to find out if he mentioned anything else of import missing.

“I like having it there as a reminder of our ancestors,” Meredith said.

“The obvious irony being the squabble between sisters over a man ended up with them trying to protect something valuable that led to Grace’s death.” Paulette popped a bite of potato into her mouth.

“A family heirloom led to a family secret, a real skeleton in the closet, so to speak.” Meredith picked up her wineglass. The merlot danced in the crystal stemware, its cranberry color contrasting with the white tablecloth. She took a fortifying sip, still a touch dismayed at Max’s presence and his effect on her equilibrium.

“Did you tell Mom and Dad about what happened in the attic?” Paulette plopped a piece of beef in her mouth and blinked.

“No. Should I?” Meredith didn’t want to say anything, but then again why not?

“What happened?” Max asked.

“Are you sure you want to know?” Meredith asked. “It might make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m a big boy.” He motioned with his fork for her to continue. “Go on.”

“Yes, please, tell us.” Dina laid her fork on her plate and peered at Meredith.

Paulette nodded, still chewing, a smirk on her face as she winked at Meredith.
Chicken
. Meredith sighed and relayed the previous incident. “We think Grace wants a happy ending.”

Brock’s fork clattered onto his plate. “And how do you propose to give a dead woman a happy ending?” Brock appeared utterly perplexed by such a notion.

“That’s the question.” Meredith buttered a wedge of cornbread. “Ideas?”

“That’s easy.” Dina glanced at each of them.

“Do tell.” Meredith bit into the dense yellow bread, the pieces of corn and bacon creating mini explosions of joy in her mouth.

“What, you haven’t figured it out?” Dina sat back, a grin on her face. “I’m enjoying being ahead of the curve on this one, so don’t mind me if I bask in this moment.”

“Mom…” Meredith said, leaning forward, elbows on the table. “Spill it.”

Dina’s Mona Lisa smile made her audience smile in return. “She’s been haunting this old place for more than one hundred fifty years because she died a horrible death at the hands of her sister. Whether accidental or not, that’s a fact. So naturally, she wants to be laid to rest. And of course, the only place she’d want to be buried is beside her dearly departed brother.”

“Of course.” Paulette clapped her hands. “Brilliant, Mom.”

“Can we do that?” Brock asked. “Aren’t there rules or laws governing even family cemeteries?”

“The ME determined the remains are not Native American,” Max offered. “As far as the state is concerned, you’re free to bury Grace anytime you’d like.”

Meredith caught the eye of each of her family members, sharing a happy grin with each. “Max has her remains in his truck.” Meredith sank back, her hands falling into her lap. “I guess the next step is to plan a funeral.”

Fog greeted the dawn. Whiskers tickled Meredith’s chin as Grizabella sniffed her lips. She sat up, forcing the insistent cat off her. Shoving the covers away, she swung her legs out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Today they’d lay Grace in the grave waiting for her and hope she’d finally be able to rest in peace and leave her alone. The humidity frizzed Meredith’s hair, making it near impossible to force it to lay as she wanted. She glared at herself in the mirror as she wet a comb and swiped through it, only to have it flip back up. Lovely.

A rumble of thunder rolled across the sky outside, sounding like a distant truck lumbering past on the road. So the storm wasn’t too close-by. The forecast called for possible severe weather in the afternoon, but the funeral would be over by then. The family worked out the details the day before after church. The guests had been invited to arrive by eleven, and they’d have a brief service led by the local pastor. The pall bearers would lower the coffin into the hole Sean and Max had dug yesterday in the reserved plot beside Grandpa Joe. Knowing it would likely rain today, they’d finalized as much of the preparations as they could, even though they had to do so on a Sunday afternoon. After the coffin was covered in its hole and the final benediction said by the pastor, they’d adjourn to the house for a buffet lunch prepared by Meg and Paulette.

Meredith selected a pair of navy-blue slacks, a crisp white blouse, and saddle-leather sandals. She laid the clothes on the bed, dropped the sandals on the floor beside it, and then went to her jewelry chest. Sliding open the bottom drawer, she peered inside. She fingered the strand of pearls Willy presented to her on their wedding night, remembering the love they represented. Her gaze fell on the cameo her sister gave to her the day she graduated from high school. A flash of light drew her attention to the triple dresser’s mirror. Her breath hitched, one hand reaching for her throat. Behind her in the mirror’s reflection, Grace stood in her blue hoop-skirted dress, watching her with kind eyes. The young woman must have stolen many young men’s hearts with her beauty and poise. Meredith grieved for the life Grace never had chance to live. Grace pointed to the gift box lying on top of the dresser, beside the jewelry chest. Meredith locked eyes with her in the reflection, and she nodded slowly. Meredith inclined her head and opened the gift box. If Grace desired it, then she’d wear the jewelry recovered with her body in order to pay her homage. Meredith lifted Grace’s ruby-and-diamond earbobs and matching teardrop necklace and clipped them on in her great-great-great-aunt’s honor. She looked behind her in the mirror’s reflection to receive Grace’s approval, only she no longer lingered in the room.

As Meredith finished dressing, another round of thunder echoed in the distance, chasing her downstairs. Outside, the first drops of rain flashed past the window. Pushing open the door separating the hallway from the kitchen, she paused. Max sat at the dinette table, making her insides quiver at the blue-eyed assessment he aimed in her direction. So be it. She squared her shoulders, strode to the coffeepot, and then snatched a mug.

“You’re here early.” Meredith inhaled the aroma of the dark liquid, gaining strength from its scent alone.

“Much as I hoped I wouldn’t have to do this, you’ve left me no choice.” He tapped his briefcase sitting on the floor. “Since I can’t convince you to alter your intentions, I’m giving you fair warning I’ve moved up the council vote to this afternoon. I can’t let you go through with desecrating your grandmother’s memory and her trust in you.”

“The salvage guy should be here tomorrow.” She motioned to the briefcase. “No matter what your council decides today, they can’t possibly enact anything that will hinder my plans tomorrow. No government body moves so fast.” A part of her quaked inside, overwhelmed as she silently conceded her original plans may need to be changed. Not that she’d admit that to Max. Not yet.

He shook his head, his luxurious brown hair flowing across the top edge of his collar. “There’s no grandfather clause in the legislation. It takes effect immediately upon the vote.”

She caught the challenge in his expression, and her hackles rose. She detested being told what she could and could not do. Could he do that? Or was he bluffing? She didn’t know, but either way, if she burned the place down, nobody could do anything about it. She elected to change the subject rather than argue with him.

“Is Sue coming?” Meredith sipped her coffee, gripping the mug with both hands. The heat warmed her cold fingers.

“Yes, and bringing Jeremy.”

“Nice of you to give her the time off so she could attend.”

“She would have taken the morning either way, so why not.”

Paulette strode in, followed by Grizabella. The cat made a beeline to her bowl. Paulette grabbed a mug and poured coffee in it, adding cream and sugar until Meredith felt ill thinking about drinking the concoction. A breeze flowed through the open window, billowing the light curtains out like the hallmark photo of Marilyn Monroe’s white dress.

“I think the weatherman was wrong.” Paulette claimed a seat at the table. “That cold wind is announcing the severe stuff is coming faster than they said.”

“It’ll be fine.” Meredith heard a timer ticking. “What’s Meg got in the oven?”

“Pecan coffee cake.” Max rubbed his stomach and licked his lips with exaggerated smacking. “Can’t wait until I hear the timer ding.”

Despite herself, Meredith chuckled at his antics. “You always think of food, don’t you?”

“Smells good.” Paulette inhaled deeply. “Now that I’m eating for two, I guess we can grant you one meager piece, Max.”

“We’ll see.” Max grinned at her.

Meredith sucked in a breath and almost choked when she smelled honeysuckle instead of the cinnamon and nutmeg she expected. One hand went to the pendant, rubbing it between her fingers. She coughed to clear her lungs, and then tentatively sniffed. Cinnamon, brown sugar, pecans. Hmmm. Much better when contemplating eating and not perfume. The timer dinged, and she rose to remove the pan from the oven.

“Where is Meg?” Meredith asked, setting the round pan on top of the stove.

“She said she had a pork roast to start in a slow oven at her place.” Max stood and walked over to retrieve a stack of plates from the cupboard and then waited beside Meredith as she sliced the cake. His actions smacked of familiarity with the house. With her. Her hand shook as she inserted the knife tip into the crunch topping and pushed down. She shouldn’t be reacting to his mere presence. He was her lawyer, not her lover. Which only made her think of their last kiss, the one she’d ended before she wanted to further their foreplay. Before he became more than her lawyer and risked her own heart in ways she could not allow.

“Here, now go sit down.” She scooped a slice of cake onto a plate and waved the knife at him to urge him to return to his seat. Away from her so she could think clearly.

“Yes’m.”

“What about me?” Paulette asked. “Do I have to come there or can you bring me a piece?”

“Lazy.” Meredith grinned at her as she placed a slice on a plate and then carried it to her. She slapped it onto the table. “Just because you’re with child doesn’t mean you get special treatment. At least not all the time.”