Chapter 12
Moira and her friends entered the elegant dining room just as the autumn sun was setting over the marsh beyond the blackwater
river. Shades of orange and pink streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminated the room with a warm glow.
The sparkling white china set a beautiful backdrop for their spicy meal of savory shrimp in tomato sauce. Ice water and sweet
tea were already poured into the silver-rimmed goblets on the table, and a freshly opened bottle of pinot grigio had been
placed at the center near Moira’s lovely flower arrangement.
“You never let me down, Mo,” Gemma said, eyes wide at the delicious meal before her while she unwrapped her silverware from
the linen napkin.
“Would you all mind if I prayed over our meal?” Nell offered and they all nodded. Nell said a quick but heartfelt prayer of
thanks for the food and the friendship.
Erin felt awkward at such a fancy table setting and was unsure which fork to use or where to place her elbows. She carefully
watched the other guests as they unfolded the fine napkins and put them in their laps. She did the same, thinking the napkin
with mitered corners probably cost more than her jeans and blouse combined. She hoped she wouldn’t knock over a glass or drop
her silverware on the floor.
While everyone else remarked on how savory and spicy the shrimp was, Moira poured another glass of wine for herself, Erin, and Gemma.
“I am so glad to have all of you here and am looking forward to our day tomorrow,” Mo said with a bright smile as she looked
around the table. “It’s going to be a full one.”
“Run us through the schedule.” CK dipped the buttery garlic bread in the tomato sauce that was pooled on her plate.
“I figured you didn’t want to be up too early, so we’ll have coffee at nine or so, followed by a walk along the shore. Brunch
will be served at ten fifteen and—”
“Brunch!” Gemma enthusiastically interrupted. “Nell, you should have made that pepper jack hash brown dish you brought over
after Jeffrey’s funeral. I swear that casserole had a lasting impact on me.”
Nell laughed. “Well, I sure would have brought one if I’d known you were so fond of it. My family loves it too. I make it
at least once a week. Remind me to give you the recipe before the weekend is over, okay?”
“May I continue?” Moira asked, sounding annoyed, while Gemma batted her eyes and motioned for her to keep talking. “Then we
will have some relaxing time by the pool, followed by massages in the pool house courtesy of Kaylee, who works at one of Savannah’s
finest spas.”
“That all sounds heavenly,” Nell said while gathering shards of fresh arugula on her fork.
Moira continued with a coy smile, “And tomorrow night I can’t wait for our sunset cruise and dinner on the catamaran.”
“Wow,” slipped from Erin’s mouth.
Gemma, intrigued, asked, “Where in the world did you get this boat, Mo? It’s not yours, is it?”
“It belongs to Martin Naysmith. He was a good friend of Jeffrey’s.
I’m sure you met him at the funeral,” Mo responded while wiping the corners of her mouth with the delicate linen.
“He used to host the most fantastic New Year’s Eve parties on it, and we’d sail out into the open water and watch fireworks on the shore.
I phoned him up and asked for access to it this weekend, and he was more than happy to oblige.
He’s even sending his nephew to captain it for us. ”
As the portions on the plates became smaller, the five ladies enthusiastically chatted about the weekend, and the conversation
naturally shifted to their spouses back home. Gemma talked highly of Tyler to Nell and Erin, who didn’t know him from Adam.
She boasted about his recent job promotion in insurance sales and didn’t notice CK and Moira exchange sarcastic glances as
she painted their marriage as a Hallmark movie. CK spoke of her husband, Sean, with complete honesty and a hint of sarcasm
in her tone as she joked that she might return to a home that resembled a frat house on Sunday afternoon. Nell described her
loyal pharmacist, Chip, softly and gently, without a smidge of teasing or resentment. Erin imagined the kind, loving men the
other ladies shared their lives with and felt a twinge of jealousy. Nosey Gemma asked if Erin was in a relationship.
“Oh, we divorced years ago. Irreconcilable differences, you know? He’s remarried now.” Erin poked at the remainder of shrimp
on her china and changed the subject. “So have you all been keeping watch on the tropical storm brewing in the Caribbean?
I heard it might make landfall next week.”
“If it stays the course, I don’t think it’s going to come as far inland as Gemma and me,” CK answered. “We might get a little drizzle, but from the predictions I’ve seen, it’s going to head from Nicaragua to Nassau and then up to Jacksonville, Savannah, Charlotte, and then swing back out to sea.”
“If it does hit Savannah, my husband, son, and I will be at Oglethorpe. It’s a designated shelter. Mo, Erin, you’re more than
welcome to come to the church to ride it out,” Nell offered.
“Oglethorpe Church on Pooler Avenue?” Erin inquired and Nell nodded. “I may do that. Thank you. The last time we had a hurricane
I spent the night in the basement of the civic center with a poodle that had diarrhea and barked incessantly.”
The group laughed.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine here. I know how to batten down the hatches. The cats and I will survive. We’ve been through plenty
of storms together.” Moira drank the last gulp from the goblet and motioned for CK to pass the half-empty bottle of pinot
to her.
“Where are those little furballs?” Gemma asked, pushing her empty plate away. It clinked against a sweating crystal glass
of water.
“Probably curled up in my room, sound asleep,” Mo responded with a playful grin. “They’ll come alive just as we’re all settling
down for the night. You will hear them, I’m sure, scurrying around the house.”
Gemma raised an eyebrow. “They better not scurry anywhere near me,” she said, pointing a playful finger at Mo. “And they had
better not try to steal my breath while I’m sleeping either. Whiskered demons.”
CK let out a bustling laugh and tossed her napkin onto the table while leaning back in the sturdy mahogany chair.
She looked at Nell and Erin and said, “Gemma hates cats, as you can tell. I love to hurl my little guy, Chipper Jones, into her lap when she least expects it. She jumped up from my couch so quickly one time that she tripped and fell into the wall.”
“And busted right through it like the Kool-Aid Man!” Gemma imitated a drummer’s rim shot at her joke.
No, she didn’t, CK, annoyed at yet another one of Gemma’s self-deprecating comments, mouthed to the group.
“Tell her, Erin. Tell Gemma what sweethearts Dove and Pearl are,” Mo insisted while pointing at Erin.
Erin shrugged and said, “I don’t like cats very much either, but Dove and Pearl are sweet. They’re affectionate, and they
don’t weave between my legs trying to trip me up. Honestly, I rarely even see them.”
“That may be true, but I don’t care. I’m still locking our door tonight, CK.” Gemma crossed her arms with determination. “Cats
are homicidal maniacs. I’ve never owned a dog that brought a dead rabbit in the house or tried to steal my breath while I
slept. Only cats do that kind of villainous mess.”
The group laughed together, their voices blending with the sound of jingling glasses. Moira offered more wine to her guests,
but they all declined. With a disappointed scoff, she poured some more into her own glass. The golden liquid sparkled under
the clear crystals hanging from the vintage brass chandelier.
CK exchanged a knowing glance with Gemma. Moira had already drunk far too much that evening, especially since it was not yet
seven o’clock.
Antonio and his assistant, the strikingly beautiful Italian woman named Renata, with dark hair elegantly pinned in a bun,
entered with black trays topped with fancy etched cups filled with the evening’s dessert.
“Chocolate panna cotta,” Antonio announced in his delicious, thick accent, and the women responded with enthusiastic smiles and gasps of approval. He and Renata placed the cups of the rich chocolate custard before them, and Gemma clasped her hands together.
“Heavenly!” Gemma exclaimed, her voice filled with delight as she was the first to scoop the sparkling, polished spoon into
the creamy confection. She closed her eyes in bliss while she appreciated the sweet flavor. “This ain’t Heathcliff Huxtable’s
pudding.”
The dining room fell quiet as the women all dug into the decadent chocolate dessert, until Erin broke the silence and asked
Nell somewhat bashfully, “If I do need to come to your church’s hurricane shelter next week, would it be okay if I bring my
son?”
“Absolutely!” Nell responded enthusiastically, her smile wide and inviting. “He is most welcome too. We’ll exchange numbers
so we can keep in touch, okay?”
“That sounds great. I appreciate it.” Erin nodded at the genuinely kind invitation from a woman wearing what appeared to be
real emerald earrings.
“And of course, we’d love to have you both visit even when a hurricane isn’t bearing down. There’s always some activity or
Bible study going on for the ladies of the church.” Nell took another bite of the rich chocolate. “Tate is active in our college-aged
ministry and would be glad to show your son around.” Nell nodded her auburn head.
“Here we go,” Moira said, her words slightly slurred from the wine. “Do you earn a commission from the pastor every time you
bring in new blood?”
Nell’s smile at Erin faded. She looked down at her dessert as her expression shifted to one of hurt.
“That was uncalled for, Mo!” CK exclaimed firmly. “I’m sorry she said that, Nell.”
Mo felt her face flush with embarrassment. Where had that nasty response come from? She bit her bottom lip and looked away.