“I thought that was over for a while,” Lucy said as she moved toward the house. The Merritt Bobcats had gone to the regional championship but had lost in the finals last week.
“It’s never over,” Nathan said as he got into his truck. “Tell Brantley I said hello.”
Not him too!
Wearily, Lucy dragged herself up the steps of the wide porch of Tolly and Nathan’s brick Tudor style house. Built in the 1930s, the house was perfect for them with big rooms and plenty of bedrooms to accommodate the friends Kirby brought home from college. Lucy had decorated the house, all but the nursery. “We aren’t nearly ready,” Tolly had said. “Who knows what we’ll want by the time Kirby graduates?” Both Nathan and Tolly were one hundred percent committed to seeing the boy they’d taken as their own through his college football and academic career.
Lucy picked up the brass knocker and let it fall. Seconds later, the door swung open.
“Come in.” Tolly, ever elegant and classy, stepped aside. “Missy and Lanie are practically passed out in front of the fireplace in the library. They both had bad baby nights last night. Lulu was cranky and John Luke woke up at three o’clock ready to party.”
“Good. Maybe they won’t interrogate me.”
“Don’t count on it,” Tolly said as she took Lucy’s coat. “Believe me, as the most recent victim of the book club ‘need to know,’ you have my sympathy.”
“Sympathy won’t stop you from joining in,” Lucy said as she followed Tolly down the hall.
“At least I’ll ply you with liquor first.” Tolly went straight to the bar and poured glasses of wine as Lucy let herself down on the sofa that faced the one where Missy and Lanie sat dozing. Lucy and Tolly had planned the arrangement of this room just for book club with twin sofas flanking the fireplace and a large coffee table in between for food and drinks. Tonight the table was laden with individual tomato pies, tiny crab cakes, artichoke and asparagus salad, and chocolate chip cookies.
“Somebody’s been busy,” Lucy said, accepting her wine.
“Not me.” Tolly set down glasses in front of Missy and Lanie before she settled in next to Lucy. “You know me. I hire that done.” She took a sip of her wine and cast an eye toward the other sofa. “Should we wake them?”
“If we must,” Lucy said. She could handle Tolly. Lanie too. But Missy? No one could handle Missy.
As if on cue, Missy sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What? Damn.” She poked Lanie in the side. “Wake up, Lanie. We slept through the arrival of Lucy. Not surprising, considering how sneaky she is these days.”
“I am the least sneaky person on the planet. I don’t even know how to be sneaky. I wish I did.”
“That might have been true at one time.” Missy reached for a plate and turned to Tolly. “Can we eat? I’m starving. But Brantley knows plenty about being sneaky. What he didn’t know, I taught him and, apparently, he’s passing it on to you. Though I don’t know why you have to be so secretive. You and Brantley are perfect for each other. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
Lucy filled her plate with one tart, one crab cake, and a generous portion of salad. There would be no cookie, not if she wanted a second glass of wine. Life was about choices. “As I have already told y’all,” she said patiently, “Brantley and I are not involved. All there is between us are old bricks and paint samples.”
“You do have to admit,” Lanie said tentatively, “that the two of you are perfectly suited. Same friends, same religion, same professional interests.”
“Not that she devil, Rita May Sanderson,” Missy said around a crab cake.
“Who he will, no doubt, return to any moment,” Lucy said.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Missy said.
“It’s wishful thinking on your part,” Lucy said. “There has to be something he likes about her, even if you do detest her.”
“No ‘if’ about it,” Missy said.
“Be that as it may, it’s all beside the point. Rita May or not, there is no Brantley and me.” Brantley and me. That phrase made her stomach turn over, and not in a good way.
“There was the matter of the fork,” Lanie said. “What was that all about anyway?
Hell and double hell! They knew about that?
“Forget the fork,” Tolly said. “I am much more interested in why he sent you a Jack-O-Lantern a week before Thanksgiving.”
They all gave her questioning looks. If they knew about the cake, they didn’t ask. “How am I supposed to know why Brantley Kincaid sends such weird gifts? Missy ought to know more about that than I do. She knows him better. Hell, she created him.”
“I did not. I tried. He would not be turned.”
“Turned to what? Tolly asked.
“My minion,” Missy said. “I’ve been trying to get a minion for years and haven’t been able to manage it yet. I cannot put anyone onto the Missy way of doing things. Tolly and Nathan aren’t even coming to my Iron Bowl party. They’re going to the game just to watch Kirby standing around redshirted.”
“That’s right,” Tolly said with no apology in her voice. “We’re very proud of Kirby for being redshirted. It means they are saving him so he will have an additional year of eligibility. You can go with us; I know Harris has tickets.”
“He does,” Missy said with a sigh. “And to tell the truth I would kind of like to go. But you know how Harris feels about it. He likes to watch the Alabama/Auburn game in his own house. But he did say that next year, when Kirby isn’t redshirted anymore, we will go. Beau will be old enough to go by then. And Kirby is family.”
Tolly and Harris, the children of identical twins, looked enough alike to be siblings. They practiced law together and were closer than most brothers and sisters.
Tolly laughed. “We’ll just see if he gets to play.”
“But the rest of you?” Missy looked from Lanie to Lucy. “You’ll be at our party?”
“Yes,” Lanie said.
“Of course,” Lucy said but it might be a lie. Depended on how Brantley was acting.
“Missy,” Tolly said, “I do appreciate that you are willing to uproot your whole family and come to Tuscaloosa for Thanksgiving. I know turkey in a restaurant is no one’s idea of a great Thanksgiving.”
Missy shrugged. “Kirby’s not allowed to leave until the game is over. The Bragg/Lee/Harris contingent does what it needs to. But I am bringing pies. We are having homemade pie, even if we have to eat it in our hotel rooms, right in bed.”
Relieved for the change of subject, Lucy jumped in. “What about the Heaven/Avery contingent? What are your Thanksgiving plans?”
Lanie smiled a sleepy smile. “Everyone is coming. My family, Luke’s parents, of course. Luke’s sister, Arabelle. We haven’t seen her since she got back from that Doctors Without Borders stint. Oh, and Luke’s cousin Sheridan and her husband. They’re bringing the baby they adopted last year, so John Luke will have a playmate.” She laughed. “As much as a ten-month-old and eight-month-old can play together.”
“That’s a lot of people, even for that big farmhouse,” Tolly said. “Are you cooking for all those people?”
“It will be a combined effort.” Lanie turned to Lucy. “How about you? I assume you’re parents aren’t coming back from Tibet. Are you going to those cousins in Charleston?”
“No.” And Lucy was thankful for it. It was a long drive and none of those people were anywhere close to her age. “It’s just Annelle and me this year.”
There were audible gasps from everyone in the room.
“No!” Lanie said. “You and Annelle come be with us at the farm. You have to.”