The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,37
feet. Their mother had retreated to her bedroom to sob in private, and the house had regained its Sunday afternoon peace. Fall sunshine streamed through the living room windows as Maria and Daphne continued to cull through, pack, and grieve the family keepsakes.
“Couldn’t we rent even a small storage space?” Daphne asked, her voice low.
Maria shook her head. Her resolve had to be firm or else she would crumble entirely. “We can’t afford it.”
“It can’t be more than a hundred dollars a month,” Daphne said, but her feeble protest wasn’t meant to sway Maria so much as express her grief.
“I’m sorry—”
“It’s not your fault.” Daphne sighed and let the vase rest in her lap. “Why didn’t Daddy tell us the truth?”
Maria shook her head. “I don’t know.”
She’d broken the news of the farm’s sale at dinner the night before. Daphne had sat quietly tears sliding down her cheeks. Daphne had managed the farm all these years under their father’s direction. Their mother shrieked in hysterics until they convinced her to take a Xanax. Stephanie wanted to know if it meant she would have to share a room with one of her sisters when they moved to the small living quarters above the five-and-dime. Maria had soothed, reassured, and gritted her teeth. And then she’d told them that packing would begin the next morning. They had less than a week to vacate the house and turn over the keys.
The sound of tires crunching on the gravel drive outside caught both sisters’ attention.
“Who is it?” Daphne asked. She was hemmed in on the couch by piles of books, pictures, and their mother’s bric-a-brac.
Maria crossed to the window and peeked out. An unfamiliar black Mercedes had pulled up in front of the house. “I have no idea.” Two men emerged from the car, and Maria’s stomach knotted. “It’s them.”
“Who them?” Daphne moved objects aside so she could escape the couch and join her sister at the window.
“James Delevan and Evan Baxter.”
“The men from the potluck?”
Maria turned to look at Daphne. “The new owner. And his henchman.”
“Which is which?” Despite her distress, Daphne managed a small teasing smile.
“James is the henchman. Or lawyer, whichever you prefer.”
Daphne reached out and rubbed her sisters shoulder. “You can’t hold it against them, you know. It’s business.”
Maria twisted her mouth in a way that resembled a smile without actually being one. “You’re entirely too nice.”
“Well, one of us has to be.” Daphne’s teasing laugh soothed Maria’s irritation.
“Then you should answer the door,” Maria said. “See what they want. They can’t chuck us out until the end of the week.”
“Maria—” The firm knock on the door interrupted whatever Daphne was about to say. “Never mind. I’ll get it.”
Maria looked around for something to be doing when the men entered the room. She grabbed a feather duster and applied it vigorously to the empty built-in shelves on one side of the fireplace. That was certainly something she knew how to do after all those years trapped in the five-and-dime.
Male voices rumbled in the foyer, and then Daphne entered the room with James and Evan in tow.
“Hello, Maria,” Evan said in his usual good-natured manner. “I was apologizing to your sister for the intrusion.” If he’d had a hat with him, it would have been in his hands. His gentle smile and self-deprecating manner were meant to ease the awkwardness of the situation. “James and I need to walk the property again, if it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Maria knew the real estate agent had shown them around more than once, along with a bevy of surveyors, but she hadn’t been there to see them striding over every inch of her beloved farm, plotting to put up high-end lake cottages and a new marina and retail space. She’d made certain her mother and sister had been away from home during those times too. Now, though, there was no more need for secrecy. The deed was done.
Of course. “We’re just packing,” she added inanely, but it was all James Delevan’s fault. Much as she tried to hide it, his presence discomposed her.
“Are you still staying at Sugar Hill?” Daphne asked with more politeness than Maria could muster.
“Off and on,” Evan answered with a smile. “We’re back and forth between here and Memphis.”
James glanced at his watch. “We won’t keep you—”
“Maria! Daphne! You didn’t tell me we had guests.”
Althea Munden swept into the room on a cloud of White Linen, and Maria suppressed a groan. “I thought you were resting, Mom.”