the evening, and topped up my glass with what was left inside. Fortunately, there were two more bottles in the refrigerator. When it came to the menu, Calvin was worse than useless, but he had convinced me to buy plenty of wine. That part, at least, had been a good call.
“Stop,” Pris said. “You made the salad and the dough; that was the hard part. All I did was roll out a crust, toss on some toppings, and put it in the oven.”
“The salad is really good too,” Caroline said, spearing pieces of lettuce, squash, pecan, and pomegranate in turn. Caroline didn’t eat much, I’d noticed, but every mouthful was a carefully composed work of art.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” I asked, eyeing the pecan bars Polly had brought.
Much to my disappointment, everyone swore they were too full to eat another bite and preferred to let dinner settle. But I was having a good time; everybody was.
Felicia settled back into her chair with a contented sigh.
“This is just so nice,” she said. “Reminds me of when Beau and I were first married. Beebee, Sissy, and the other women in the neighborhood used to get together at each other’s houses almost every week. My, but we had fun!”
She took a ladylike sip of wine, pushed her glasses up on her nose, and leaned closer to the table. I could tell by the look on her face that there was a story coming on, so I leaned in too. Felicia always had the best stories.
“One time,” she said, “way back when Foster was still a baby, Southern Living ran a how-to on magnolia-leaf Christmas wreaths and I got it into my head that all of us needed to make one.” She swept her arm wide. “Well. We’d have had to denude every tree on the street to get enough leaves for everybody, but I got an idea of where to get some. Late one night, Beebee, Sissy, and I hopped in the car and started driving around. We found a median strip on the highway planted all over with hee-uge magnolias.”
Felicia dropped her voice to a stage whisper.
“Do you know that Sissy drove the car right onto the median strip? Right over the curb!” The whisper melted into peals of laughter. “We piled out and started snipping leaves as quick as we could. Two minutes later, a state patrolman shows up.” Felicia clapped her hand to her chest. “I thought for sure we were all going to be arrested!”
I put down my glass and propped my chin on my hand. It wasn’t hard to imagine Felicia taking part in this caper. But Beebee? That was harder to picture. It was also kind of wonderful. Beebee hadn’t always been a fat old widow woman who did little besides knit and eat pralines. She’d had friends, and adventures, and a life.
“Sissy was the brave one,” Felicia continued, after taking another sip. “She explained about the wreaths, except she made it sound like we were on the decorations committee for some charity ball. When she was finished, that big old police officer frowns and crosses his arms over his chest, and says, ‘So you ladies thought it would be a good idea to park in the middle of the highway and steal state property?’
“And Sissy blinks those big blue eyes of her and says, ‘Well, sir. Maybe not our best idea.’”
Felicia’s timing was perfect. Her flutey laughter was infectious. The sound of it rang through the high ceilings and halls and was echoed by everyone else’s merriment, circling on itself again and again, like a chorus sung in the round.
“Well, sir. Maybe not our best idea,” Caroline hooted.
“Not our best,” I parroted, grinning because I knew that a catchphrase shared by an earlier generation had been resurrected. From now on, if one of the women in this room did something dumb, somebody would say, “Not our best idea,” and everyone would howl.
Felicia, still smiling, dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “Oh, I loved those girls. They were like sisters to me; we were that close. Of course, that was a long time ago. So many dear old friends have moved away. Or passed away.” She lifted her glass a couple of inches, saluting the departed. “And the few who are left here have so many health problems or . . . other problems.”
Felicia’s smile melted into reverie. I was sure she was thinking about how Sissy had tottered into Beau’s party wearing two different shoes,