the arm. “Son, she has one condition. You and your family must have a housewarming party within a year and invite her.”
“I can’t believe that’s what she wants for the house. It’s below market value,” James said, ignoring any mention of family, though suspicion rubbed his conscience. Did the house need a lot of work, and she knew it? Did she think because he looked like a redneck that he couldn’t afford the house at any price? And why hadn’t Wade called his cell phone rather than calling the house and leaving this information? “I want the place, but it’s still contingent on an inspection and an appraisal. Have to have the due diligence.” He’d been fooled once by a pretty face. Houses, like women, might look great on the outside, but dig a few inches and looks could be deceiving. His hard-earned cash wouldn’t leave the bank a moment before he had a complete status and hard numbers for repairs.
“Son, Wade said it needs some minor work. Insisted that Meredith had a contractor look at it when she inherited it. They say the needed work is only cosmetic.”
Papa rose slowly from his chair, hobbled over to him, and slapped him on the back. “I answered the phone and reminded Wade of our family’s long-time connection. But I’m so hard of hearing, even with that darn speakerphone, couldn’t understand half of what he was saying. Had to get your dad involved.”
“Dinner is ready,” his mother called from the dining room.
James glanced in her direction. She stood behind her chair waiting as she always did whenever they had a formal meal. His father would pull out her chair and she would sit, then place the cloth napkin in her lap. Family traditions learned from his grandparents.
Not wanting to irritate his mother, he sprinted down the hall. By the time everyone had a beverage of their choice, he’d be done and ready to eat.
“Finally,” his mother said when he returned. “Your grandmother was kind enough to get you sweet tea.” She pointed to the glass next to his plate.
His mother ladled gravy over roast beef and handed the first plate to him. “James is this really necessary?” she asked.
“The house, you mean?” He knew she wasn’t asking about the food, but he wanted to tease her. Had she made his favorite meal as a bribe to make him stay or as a farewell dinner?
“Yes, this house business.” She sniffed. “How can you afford this? I don’t think you should buy a house until you can afford it.”
“She means that she’s worried that once you move to town permanently, you’ll get too busy to come see us,” Granny said.
He took a bite of the meat and chewed. “This is great, Mom. With cooking like this, I’ll come every time I’m invited.” He hoped flattery might distract her, and then he could change the subject. One of his mother’s...interesting…pastimes was gossiping after church on Sunday with the church’s ladies’ committee. Unfortunately, they viewed gossip as a sport or competition. He wanted his private life to remain off limits to the ears of those with loose lips. He’d learned a hard lesson very well when he and Caroline broke up. And, old men, gossiped just as much as old women.
“I’m glad you like the food. I made all your favorites.” She smiled modestly. “But what about the house?”
“Now Emme, stop that,” Granny said gently. “Leave the boy alone. If he says he wants to buy the house, then he must have a way to work it out.”
Granny corrected his mother? In front of others? Usually, she played the gentle mediator, always finding something good to say about everything, smoothing over any potential conflict.
“Momma,” his mother whined, “I don’t know how he could possibly afford it with all of his education loans.”
“Your son’s a grown man with a doctorate degree. If he says he can afford it, then you should believe him.” Papa’s low tone carried a sharp threat. Emmeline squared her shoulders, lowered her eyes, and picked at the food on her plate.
Staying out of the fray, intent on enjoying the feast of his favorites, he kept his attention on his food, took a fork full of zipper peas, and savored the flavor. No matter what, his mother could cook.
He shrugged off the family debate. In truth, he could afford it. No one knew that but his grandfather, who had taught him the value of money at an early age. However, if it hadn’t been