When he left the room, Laura grinned shamelessly. “You go, girl. ”
What she had with Billy felt too special to gossip over, so she cut off her sister, saying, “Let’s get to work. ”
Laura’s shoulders slumped. “Fine,” she muttered. “But you have no idea. ”
“What do you mean?”
“Just follow me. ”
They headed into the dining room, and her eyes widened at the devastation. It looked like someone had come and emptied their breakfront. Every piece of blue Wedgwood they owned was stacked on the buffet, the good silverware looked like it’d exploded over the dining table, a few cut-glass vases were waiting to be dusted, and blackened silver polish rags littered the place. “What’s the story?”
“The story?” Her sister sighed. “The story is, Mom’s losing it. ”
As if to illustrate the point, their mom bustled in, holding a tablecloth in each hand. “Which one?” she demanded, looking a little wild-eyed. “The gingham or Meemaw’s table runner?”
“Meemaw’s,” the girls said in unison.
Edith looked doubtful.
“Meemaw was friendly with the Kidd sisters. It’s a nice touch. ” Sorrow took it from her, and with Laura’s help, moved the silver aside to spread it on the table. Before her mom could bustle back out of the room, Sorrow snatched her hands, forcing Mom to meet her eyes. “What’s the plan?”
“It’s a luncheon,” Edith said.
“Okay,” Sorrow said gently. She glanced over her mother’s shoulder, spying what was already a huge spread of food scattered across the counter. “But if people are coming over soon, we need to get this place cleaned up and put the food on the table. ”
“I loved Emerald,” her mom said. “I want it to be perfect. ”
“I loved her, too. We all did. And it will be perfect—just perfect enough. ” She let go of Mom’s hands and began to put the silverware back in its felted tray. “People won’t notice if you’re using the good silver or not. ”
“Amen,” Laura murmured.
Sorrow shot her sister a look before turning her attention back to her mother. The woman looked like she’d aged twenty years in the night. “Have you eaten? You sit down. ” Sorrow steered her into the kitchen, hating the feeble, fragile feel of Mom’s slack shoulders in her hands. “Take a minute to have a cup of coffee and make a list of what you need us to do. Lists are good. ” She sat her at the table and put a pad of paper and a pen before her. “Just tell us what you need, and we’ll help. ”
Sorrow went back into the dining room. With a heavy sigh, she met and held her sister’s gaze.
Billy reappeared. “Your dad is set up in his recliner. Lucky thing it’s March Madness. Not only is he occupied, I’m afraid you’ll need to unplug the TV to get him up from that chair. ”
He stood at Sorrow’s side, resting his hand on her lower back. She looked up at him to give him a quiet smile—he managed to be loving and steadfast without being overtly affectionate. At the moment, it was just right. She read total understanding in his eyes—Billy was more well-versed in grief than any of them.
They heard the scrape of the kitchen chair, followed by the clicking of the gas burner.
“Mom is wigging out,” Laura said, and the uncharacteristic anxiety in her voice made Sorrow feel like the older sister instead of the youngest one.
“It helps her feel in control,” Billy said. “Pouring herself into busy work is probably what’s helping her keep it together. ”
Sorrow’s eyes shot to his. The man was even wiser than she’d realized. Emerald’s death might not have been a shock, but it was a blow. Even though she’d just passed the night before, everyone in the town—especially Mom—would want to pull together, keep busy, and most of all, help. “You’re right,” she said. “Mom loved Emerald. She grew up around the Kidd sisters. Putting together a big spread is the most therapeutic thing she could do, for all of us. ”
“She’s been different since Dad’s stroke,” Laura said, her voice subdued. “I think she’s clinging to life more than ever. ”
The insight was remarkable, and coming from Laura, it was a shock, too. Dad’s stroke had been a reminder of how it could all change on a dime, and neither of her parents had been the same since.
“Yeah,” Sorrow conceded. “I think that’s exactly right. ” But then she sighed, checking the clock on the wall. “But all this talk isn’t putting lunch on the table. ”
Laura led them into the kitchen. “I made a few plates of food this morning. Now that we don’t need to polish the silver, we can start putting it all out. ”
Sorrow had braced herself to be the one to handle everything—especially the food—but when she saw the spread Laura had pulled together, she was shocked. “Wow,” she said grudgingly. “Thanks. This looks great. How did you manage?”
Edith came over to stand between her daughters. “She did a nice job, didn’t she, Sorrow?”