Lavender Morning Read online

  “Does it have pineapple in it?”

  Sara looked confused.

  “No pineapple, no bread. At home in Florida we put pineapple in everything. Or coconut.”

  It was Sara’s turn to laugh. “Okay, I’ll stop stereotyping. It’s just that Edilean is so near Williamsburg that we get more than our share of tourists. They think we fry everything.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Not since we heard the word cholesterol.”

  As Joce took the sandwich on a plate, she said, “You don’t have to do this. Really. I can feed myself.”

  “You have a lot to learn about us Southerners. We feed people. I think it’s in our DNA,” Sara said. “Do you mind if we take this outside so I can finish that dress?”

  “Gladly,” Joce said as she carried her glass and plate and followed Sara out to the table. When they were seated, Sara with the dress across her lap, needle in hand, Joce took a bite. “Did you make this?” It was chicken salad and had sliced grapes and apples in it. It was delicious, like something from an expensive deli.

  “No, my mother did. She’s sure I’m going to starve living alone. Or worse, that I’ll eat something that isn’t homegrown and organic. She raised those chickens, and the apples are from our trees.”

  Joce looked at the sandwich in doubt. “You knew this chicken?”

  Sara shrugged. “By the time I was three I learned not to name any living thing around our house. Except my sisters. I named them, but they still didn’t end up in a pot.”

  Joce nearly choked. “Don’t get me started! Whatever sister story you have, I can top it.”

  “Think so? Both my sisters graduated from Tulane with cum laude degrees. Both of them got married the week after they graduated—to doctors, of course. And both of them got pregnant the week after they married. And they were virgins on their wedding nights.”

  Joce took a drink, then gave Sara a smug look. “No competition. My sisters are Steps. They’re identical twins, beautiful, naturally blonde, and are five feet eleven inches tall. You know what they call me? Cindy.”

  “Cindy?” Sara’s eyes widened. “Not…”

  “Right. Short for Cinderella.”

  Sara didn’t want to concede the title just yet. “I have four utterly perfect nieces and nephews, two of each. They never, ever forget to say please and thank you.”

  “Ever hear of Bell and Ash?”

  “The models? Sure. Last week they were on the cover of—No!” Sara gasped. “You can’t be telling the truth. They’re your…?”

  “Stepsisters,” Jocelyn said.

  “You win. Or lose, I don’t know which. I think I’ll call my sisters and tell them I’m glad they’re mine.” She looked at Joce in speculation. “How do you stand it?”

  “I get by,” she said, shrugging as she looked at Sara. “I don’t think I would have made it if it weren’t for Miss Edi. She was the one who saved me.” She looked down at her sandwich. “Speaking of Miss Edi, she said you’d lived here all your life.”

  “In the town, not in this house.”

  “Sure,” Joce said cautiously, then chewed while she tried to think of a polite way to bring up what she wanted to talk about. “Do you know a man named Ramsey McDowell?”

  “Of course,” Sara said, but she didn’t look up.

  “What’s he like?”

  “Beautiful, brilliant, sophisticated. What exactly do you want to know about him?”

  “I take it then that he’s a heartbreaker.”

  Sara took a while to answer and when she did, there was caution in her voice. “He’s broken some hearts, yes.”

  “But he’s never had his broken?”

  Sara looked up from the dress. “I think I should tell you that Ramsey is my cousin, so there’s family loyalty there. I’d have to know you a lot better than I do now before I say much about him.”

  “It’s just that he’s coming here tonight for dinner, and I’d like to know more about him than just the one conversation we had. He seems to be—”

  “Rams is coming here? Tonight? What did you do to rate that?” Sara looked impressed.

  “Nothing that I know of,” Joce said. “He’s handling all the paperwork for the house, so I guess—”

  “That’s work, and he does that at his office. What did you do to get him to come to your house?”

  “I…I don’t know, except that I knew the date the Emancipation Proclamation was issued.”

  “That would do it. Rams loves smart people, and he loves history.” Sara took a spool of thread from the box and rethreaded her needle. “That’s where the girls make their mistakes with my cousin.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They think Rams is like all the other men and goes for low-cut dresses. He likes those but he likes brains more. Besides, Tess erased the dress theory forever. As for what else he likes, you can ask Tess about women or food or whatever. She knows him better than we do.”

  “Tess? Oh, yes. The other tenant. What does she have to do with Ramsey…Rams?”

  “She runs his life.” When Joce raised her eyebrows, Sara shook her head. “No, not in that way. Tess runs his law office and she’s so good at it, she tends to run his life as well. If you get flowers on your birthday from Rams, they were probably chosen and sent by Tess.”

  “Ah, one of those secretaries. Dotes on him, half in love with him? That sort of thing?”

  Sara smiled. “She says she can’t stand him, and she frequently lets him know it.”

  “So why does she work for him? Why does she live here in Edilean?”

  Sara shrugged. “I have no idea. Tess is a mystery to me, and I know she’s a mystery to Rams. But she lets him know when he does something she doesn’t like.”

  “So what does she have to do with a low-cut dress?”

  “You’ll have to get Rams to tell you that story.”

  “You know, I think I read in some book that when you go on a first date with a man, you do not ask him what his secretary and a low-cut dress have in common.”

  Sara laughed. “I’m sure you’re right, but Rams has always been able to laugh at himself. Listen, this is just a warning, but when you meet Tess, don’t call her a secretary, and do not ask her about that dress. She’s sick of the story.”

  “All right,” Jocelyn said as she pushed her empty plate away. Already she was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed with all she had to learn.

  Sara seemed to know what she was thinking. “You’ll do fine. Everyone is just curious, that’s all. But I do warn you that everyone in this town—who actually lives here, that is—is going to want you to tell them about Miss Edi.”

  “I can understand that,” Joce said. “The townspeople must have loved her very much.”

  “Loved her?” Sara said. “The truth is that there are few people still alive who really knew her. Except for Aunt Mary Alice, that is, but she can’t very well love her, now can she?”

  “I don’t know,” Joce said. “Why couldn’t your aunt Mary Alice love Miss Edi?”

  “I thought you two were friends. Surely you must know Miss Edi’s tragic love story?”

  Joce gave a sigh. “Until a few days ago I would have said I knew nearly everything about her, but I’m learning that I didn’t know that much. She never mentioned Edilean, Virginia, or this house. I do know that she was once deeply in love with a young man from here who was killed in World War II.”

  “Killed!” Sara said. “Killed by feisty little Mary Alice Welsch getting herself pregnant by him and making him marry her. When Miss Edi came home from the war there was the man she loved, married to someone else.”

  Once again Jocelyn had that feeling of betrayal. This wasn’t the story she’d been told. All the love that Miss Edi had told her about, her great, deep love for David Aldredge, hadn’t ended in death. It had ended in a shotgun wedding. No wonder Miss Edi never mentioned Edilean and no wonder she lied about her beloved’s death. Better death than betrayal!

  Jo