Page 27 of One Southern Summer

Her son was lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut, but thankfully her former daughter-in-law had graciously overlooked Maribelle’s genetic link to him. Maribelle had always been included in family events through the years, which is why she had no qualms about showing up at the lake house uninvited.

“Do you have the address?” Lucille slowed to a crawl then stopped on the side of the road and reached for her phone in the center console. “I can plug it into the app.”

Oh, leave it to Lucille to start showing off. Trying to impress with all that newfangled technology. Maribelle didn’t need an app. Or a map. She’d recognize the house when she saw it with her own two eyes. She frowned and stared at a wrought iron gate blocking a long driveway, flanked by trees. Was that the one?

A little variety in the landscaping would improve the property value, plus if they had something unique up by the road, it would help folks find the right place.

“The trouble with this neighborhood is that we can’t see the houses.” She craned her neck to catch a glimpse of a white brick mansion through a gap in the trees. No, that wasn’t it.

Lucille chuckled. “I think that’s the whole point. These families value their privacy. When were you here last?”

She wasn’t about to admit it had been less than a week. “Not that long ago, but I was distracted. Greer about talked my ear off the whole way here.”

“You haven’t been to your daughter-in-law’s house often enough to know where to turn?”

“Lucille, I could really do without your judgmental attitude.” Maribelle shot her a withering glance.

“And I could do without your lack of preparation.” Lucille dropped her phone in the console, checked her mirrors then mashed the accelerator. They shot forward and Maribelle flopped back against the seat cushion.

Oh, bless. Maribelle pinched her mouth closed. Lucille didn’t need to talk to her that way, but now was not the time to get into a snit. Besides, once Lucille tasted Harper’s chicken salad, she’d be grateful Maribelle had invited her along. Her granddaughter might be busier than a one-legged cat in the sandbox, but she made a chicken salad sandwich that was to die for.

“Turn here.”

Lucille swerved quickly and Maribelle lurched forward in the seat. Glory be. Good thing the neighbors couldn’t see through all those manicured hedges. They’d call the authorities right away.

“Two old biddies in a beige Cadillac driving recklessly...”Oh, she could just imagine the reports. Their family didn’t need any additional news coverage this week.

“Advance notice would be quite helpful, Maribelle,” Lucille said, angling her car up the driveway and easing to a stop in front of the gates. “I don’t suppose they’re expecting us.”

“Not exactly.” Maribelle eyed the gates and the box with a keypad mounted on a post outside Lucille’s window.

“Do you know the access code?”

Well, no, she didn’t. And even if she did, she wouldn’t tell. Lucille was a decent person and all, but they hadn’t known each other for long. She wasn’t about to reveal all her business. What if Lucille got mad and sold the info to the paparazzi? Then Avery and her great-grandchildren would find strangers on their doorstep, taking ridiculous pictures and snooping around. No, ma’am. Maribelle shook her head. Too risky.

“How exactly are you planning to get through this gate?”

“Well, now don’t you worry.” Maribelle fumbled in her handbag for her phone.

After that comment about lack of preparation, she wasn’t about to let on that she didn’t have a concrete plan, but she did know how to send a text message. “I’ll send Avery a message and she’ll open the gates.”

“Well, I hope she’s home. I haven’t got all day, you know.” Her face puckered like she’d licked a lemon. “Bingo starts at four o’clock.”

“It’s best to remain calm, Lucille.” Maribelle sent Avery and Harper a text announcing their arrival. “I’ll have you back at your apartment in time to freshen up. I know you want to go to bingo so you can sit by Hank again.”

Lucille’s pale cheeks turned pink. Uh-huh. Now, that was a bingo right there. So shedidhave a thing for Hank. They sat in silence until the gates swung open.

“See?” Maribelle patted Lucille’s arm. “Ask and you shall receive.”

Lucille didn’t say a word. She drove the car up to the house and parked in the shade. Hopefully, Harper had made her chocolate chess pie too. Lucille needed some sweetness in her life.

Greer stepped off the porch looking quite handsome with his silver hair perfectly combed. His stone-colored shorts revealed long suntanned legs, and he wore a pale blue polo shirt and Top-Siders without socks.

“And who might this be?” Lucille quickly pulled her compact from her purse and powdered her nose.

Maribelle didn’t miss the admiration in her voice. Couldn’t argue with her, though. Greer was quite nice to look at. “Back off. You only have eyes for Hank, remember?”

“We might be old but we’re not dead.” Lucille lowered her window and waved with her fingers. “Heyyyy.”

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