“I don’t like seeing an empty place where he sat,” Tootsie said. “It makes me sad, so please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Luke pulled out Tootsie’s chair for her.
“Thank you. Smokey always did that, and I like it,” Tootsie said. “And he always said grace, so you can do that, too.”
Luke took his place, bowed his head, and gathered them in a simple prayer.
Diana sat to Luke’s right, and every time their hands brushed as food was passed around the table, a little spark shot through her. Yes, sir, it was time to get serious about moving on.
“What time are you and Luke going to see your friend tomorrow?” she asked Tootsie, mainly to get away from her thoughts about how she’d like to wrap her arms around Luke and kiss him.
“Right after breakfast. Y’all need to take stock of what’s here and make a list for what you need from the grocery store. Luke can go take care of that while I’m spending time with Midge. We’ll plan on going to the store once a week on Monday.” Tootsie took two biscuits when they came her way.
“So then, Tuesday, it’s my turn to do kitchen duty. Wednesday, it’s Diana’s, and Thursday, it’s Joanie’s?” Carmen asked.
“Why in that order?” Luke asked as he put a serving of roast, potatoes, and carrots on his plate and sent the dish on to Diana.
“Alphabetical,” Carmen said.
“Then I’ll come in after Joanie, so Friday’s my turn.” He took a bite of the carrots. “I hate raw carrots but love them cooked in a roast.”
“You’re taking a turn?” Diana asked.
“Sure, I am. Just like Uncle Smokey, I love to cook,” Luke said.
“Okay, then, I have two days this week. And I agree with Luke. Cooked carrots are great—raw ones not so much.” Carmen popped a bite of biscuit in her mouth. “I’ll have my list ready before bedtime. Is anyone allergic to anything?”
“Not an allergy, but I hate bell peppers in anything,” Tootsie said. “Love jalapeños, chili peppers, or even banana peppers, though.”
“Anyone else?” she asked.
“Butterscotch,” Luke snarled.
“And I planned on making butterscotch pies for dessert and butterscotch chocolate-chip pancakes for breakfast on my days,” Diana teased.
Carmen giggled. “Yeah, right. You don’t do butterscotch, either, not since your divorce.”
Luke raised an eyebrow.
“Her ex-husband loved butterscotch pies and those yucky pancakes she just mentioned,” Joanie explained.
Diana ignored them and set about eating her supper. So Luke didn’t like butterscotch—that was sure enough a big plus in his favor.
“Oh, and I’ll make a stop at the liquor store, so put down what you’d like from there as well,” Luke said. “Uncle Smokey always put a case of beer on his list, but I really never acquired a taste for the stuff. I like a little nightcap of Jameson if I’m going to drink anything at all.”
There’s another plus, Diana thought. Gerald hated whiskey and had to have a beer or two every night. I’d like Luke better and better if only he were my age.
Tootsie was reminded of Smokey’s breakfasts that morning. Carmen had rustled up enough ingredients to make biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast. She’d also made oatmeal-raisin muffins that were right tasty with a little butter and honey. Evidently the ladies had compared notes, because from the list Tootsie had seen that morning, they weren’t having the same thing twice all week.
She and Smokey had had a long talk the night before. Well, actually, she’d done most of the talking. He hadn’t really said a single word, but he’d told her he’d always be right there with her. She’d laid his pillow longways and snuggled up to it. That didn’t help much until she got up and put a few drops of his shaving lotion on the pillowcase. Then she slept like a baby.
Getting into the old pickup truck the next morning was another battle. Vehicles had changed a lot in the last twenty or thirty years. Very few had bench seats these days. She smiled at the memories of taking trips with Smokey in this vehicle—of sliding across the bench seat to snuggle up to Smokey’s side, and curling up on the seat with her head in his lap to sleep the last hundred miles to wherever he stopped when his eyes got too heavy to drive anymore.
She was still thinking about that when Luke pulled into the driveway at Sissy’s house. “Did I get it right?” he asked. “You said the first left after the traffic light and the third house at the end