Page 4 of Forgotten Path
Her eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind her curled bangs. “Must be my lucky day,” she muttered.
They crossed the square to the diner, Craig gripping her elbow as if she might dart out into traffic like a child. There was a time she’d have shaken him off with a snarl. But, though she’d never breathe it aloud, Judith welcomed the support of her grandson’s firm grasp on her arm. She felt she was getting shakier and more unsteady on her feet by the day.
Inside St. Lou’s, the paddle fans mounted on the ceiling turned in wide, lazy circles, moving the air even if they didn’t exactly cool it. The thick window shades blocked out the sun, furthering the illusion of respite. Louisa’s husband, the original proprietor, had viewed air conditioning as a luxury reserved for soft snowbirds and had steadfastly refused to install it. After he passed, Judith thought Louisa would surely spend some of her newfound wealth on a window unit, at least. But the tradition continued. Judith couldn’t imagine baking bread all day long in that sweltering kitchen, but she’d never heard so much as a peep of complaint from Lou.
“Hiya, Judy. Hiya, Craig,” Lou herself greeted them from behind the register.
Judith blinked. “Is Marnie out sick?”
“No, nothing like that. I gave her the afternoon off so she could take her dad over to the clinic.” She bustled around the counter to lead them to a booth in the corner.
“Good luck with that,” Craig groused.
Lou shot Judith a questioning look.
“There’s quite a crowd gathered,” Judith explained.
“Ah, well. I guess you’ll have that when the clinic’s only open once a month. And that’s a blessing in itself,” she hurried to add.
“Mmm-hmm,” Judith agreed as she lowered herself onto the ripped vinyl seat.
She and Louisa understood what Craig and his generation had never grasped. The cluster of small communities that made up the Forgotten Coast wasn’t just left out of state tourism campaigns. They’d been forgotten entirely. It was as if they didn’t exist. She could remember when there was no clinic. Or gas station. Or gainful employment other than working for the commercial oyster harvesters. Now, Oyster Point had the monthly walk-in clinic, two gas stations, a Piggly Wiggly, and more manufacturing and construction jobs than a person could shake a stick at. She made a mental note to give Craig another nudge to get himself one of those jobs. Then she made a second note to figure out where he’d gotten the money to pay for lunch.
Lou started to slap two laminated menus onto the table, but Judith waved her off. “We don’t need those. We’ll have two bowls of your clam stew.”
Lou nodded and tucked the menus under her arm. “An iced tea for Craig and water for you, I reckon?”
Judith smiled. “My grandson’s treating, so I’m gonna splurge. I’ll have a glass of sweet tea, too.”
“My, my. Isn’t that nice?”
Before Lou could drift away, Judith stopped her. “How’s Deke doing? Has Marnie said?”
Lou shook her head. “Not so good. His memory’s getting worse. Last week, she found him sleeping in his chair with a casserole burnt to a crisp in the oven. He put it in to heat and forgot all about it. She’s afraid he’s gonna burn the house down.”
“Is there anything Doc can do?”
Lou shrugged. “He’s not sure. Marnie’s of the view that it’s just part of getting older, but …”
“But Deke’s not that old,” Judith finished for her. He was a good fifteen years younger than either of them.
“Right. And it’s so, I don’t know, sudden. Don’t you think?”
They shared a resigned look. Deke’s decline had seemed to come on suddenly, but then, didn’t it always?
Lou snapped the towel tucked into her apron as if the action would snap them both out of their funk. “Let me go get your drinks.”
CHAPTERFOUR
Sugarloaf Key, Florida
Tuesday
Abead of sweat ran down the back of Felicia Williams’ neck as she rapped on the door to the old camper. The Florida sun was already hot on this hazy September morning, but that wasn’t why she was sweating.
She waited for a beat, listening for sounds from inside the camper, but heard none. She swore softly and knocked again, louder this time.
“Joel? You in there?”
