Page 53 of Forgotten Path
“And if you have any other ideas, don’t sit on them, okay? I know I’m tightly wound on this one, but I want to hear what you have to say.”
“I understand. And Felicia?”
“Yeah?”
“We all know Joel was a friend—not just to you, but to a lot of us. We’re going to do right by him.”
“I know, Medina. And, thanks.”
She ended the call with a lump in her throat.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
The diner was crowded. Not as crowded as it had been after the news of Doc’s death had swept through town, but crowded all the same. Judith surveyed the room. There were more folks here than usual for lunch—even taking into account that Louisa’s menu featured both fried oysters and her fresh razor clam and whelk salad as specials today. The seafood salad was Lou’s take on the classic shrimp salad, served on a roll po’ boy-style, only available when the local harvesters got lucky, and always sold out within an hour.
Marnie swung by the table with her water pitcher to refill Judith’s glass.
“Thanks, honey.”
Marnie smiled and turned to Craig. “What about you? You still working on that iced tea?”
“Sure am. Unless Lou’s had a change of heart and made the refills free.”
Marnie’s smile wobbled. “Sorry, no free refills, Craig. Sugar’s pricey, you know.”
Craig made a hmph noise. Normally, Judith would’ve been embarrassed by his behavior. But today, she was still embarrassed byherbehavior. Imagine accusing her only grandson of stealing from her. Her cheeks flamed just thinking about it.
“Tell you what, Marnie. Bring him a fresh iced tea with his meal.” Craig raised an eyebrow. “Lunch is my treat today, Craig.”
He shrugged. “Okay, thanks.”
“Yes, ma’am. Are you folks ready to order?” The tip of her pencil hovered over her pad.
“Two seafood salad sandwiches.”
“Chips on the side?”
She eyed Craig, who nodded. “Yes, for both of us.”
“You got it. I’ll get this order in before the kitchen runs out. Miss Louisa’s salad sells like hotcakes.”
“Don’t I know it.” Judith caught the younger woman’s sleeve before she could dart away. “How’s your dad doing?”
Marnie’s mouth turned down, and she shook her head sadly. “Not good. He’s … bad.”
“I’m sorry, Marnie. I heard you visited the memory care village. Do you think that’s what you’ll do?”
Her shoulders heaved. “There’s a long waitlist for a spot. And … I’m not sure I could swing the cost anyway.”
Judith’s heart swelled as the waitress’s eyes filled. She took in the dark half-circles under Marnie’s eyes and her ragged cuticles and bitten nails. Then she patted Marnie’s hand. “Why don’t I come by and cook dinner for you two tomorrow night? In fact, I can talk to the ladies and set up a schedule. We can help you out with your dad. Cooking, cleaning, shopping.”
“Oh, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. Deke’s lived here his whole life. We’re not going to forget about him or you. You don’t have to shoulder this alone.”
A sob broke in her throat, and she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “That’s real kind of you, Judy. If you really don’t mind, I’d be … that would be a godsend. I’m stretched pretty thin.”
Before Judith could say another word, Marnie ducked her head and scurried toward the kitchen.
