Chapter 12
SARA LEE
Sara Lee had eaten at Celini’s Italian Cafe countless times, and now, walking through the door with Nana June on a Tuesday afternoon, the nostalgia washed over her.
The familiar red vinyl booths, the black-and-white tiles creating a checkered floor, the tantalizing smell of onions, tomatoes, and garlic that had soaked into the walls over decades.
She'd eaten here with her parents, celebrating good report cards with tiramisu, or drowning sorrows after bad breakups with homemade pizza.
But today, she wasn't here for Italian comfort food. They were here to investigate.
The thought made her stomach twist with anxiety and something else she couldn't quite name.
Excitement? Or just the unsettling awareness that she was becoming someone different.
Someone who looked at familiar places and saw potential evidence.
Someone who smiled at neighbors while cataloging their reactions, their words, their secrets. It was a bit unnerving.
The lunch rush was winding down, with only a few tables still occupied.
Jerry stood in the kitchen, visible from the open space where plates would be loaded, waiting for the servers to bring them to diners.
His graying hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, his white apron spotted with marinara sauce.
When he looked up and saw them, his face creased into a broad smile.
"Ms. June! Sara Lee! Come in, come in." His Italian accent, softened by decades living in Virginia but never quite erased, added warmth to the greeting. "Sit anywhere you like. Ivy will be right out."
They chose a booth halfway back, the vinyl creaking as they slid in. Sara Lee positioned herself so she could see the whole restaurant, wanting to keep an eye on who might overhear anything that was being said.
The menu was laminated, unchanged since Sara Lee was a child.
Spaghetti and meatballs. Chicken parmesan.
Lasagna. Standard diner fare alongside Jerry's Italian weekly specials.
Sara Lee didn't need to look at it since she'd been ordering the same thing here for years.
But holding it gave her something to do with her hands while she tried to calm the nervous flutter in her chest.
"Breathe, sweetheart," Nana June murmured, not looking up from her own menu. "We're just having lunch. Two women just enjoying a meal. Nothing more."
Sara Lee scoffed then snorted. Yeah, right. It was more. They both knew it.
Ivy emerged from the kitchen, her dark hair streaked with silver, pulled back in a braided twist. She wore a simple green dress with a colorful scarf. As one of Petunia's sisters, she'd inherited that sense of style even if she'd chosen a different life. Her face lit up when she saw them.
"Ms. June! What a lovely surprise." Ivy's voice had the interesting quality of someone who could whisper a soft word or shout an order to the back. It always made Sara Lee smile. "And Sara Lee, how are you holding up? I know the discovery must have been a shock!"
The genuine concern in Ivy's voice made Sara Lee's throat tight. "I'm okay. It was hard, but Nana June's been helping me process it all."
"Of course she has. Ms. June's always been the steady one." Ivy smiled down at both of them, then pulled out her notepad. "What can I get you, ladies?"
They ordered the chicken parmesan for Sara Lee, and minestrone soup and salad for Nana June. Ivy hurried back to the kitchen with their requests. Through the serving window, Sara Lee could see Jerry working at the stove, his movements practiced over many years. His gaze darted to the side.
"He's watching us," Sara Lee observed quietly, stirring sweetener into her iced tea glass. "Jerry. He keeps glancing this way."
"He could be making sure we're taken care of."
"Maybe." Sara Lee didn’t believe that, but then she doubted herself right now.
They made small talk while they waited for their food, discussing the library's upcoming summer reading program, Sara Lee's plans for the bookmobile. Normal conversation that felt surreal given what they were really there to do.
When Ivy brought their plates, Sara Lee’s stomach growled at the scent of the chicken parmesan, covered in bubbling cheese and rich red sauce.
Ivy lingered by their table. "Mind if I sit for a moment?" she asked, glancing back toward the kitchen. "Jerry can handle things. We're almost empty anyway."
"Please do," Nana June said warmly, scooting over to make room.
Ivy slid in beside Nana June, her hands folded together on the table. Up close, Sara Lee could see the tension around her eyes, the tightness in her jaw. She looked like someone holding herself together through force of will.
"I wanted to see if you’ve heard any talk," Ivy said quietly.
When neither woman indicated they understood what she was talking about, Ivy continued.
"When the… body was discovered… well, Jerry was…
um... blunt about Raymond's death. I wondered if people were talking about…
suspects. I would hate to think that we were alienating customers. "
Sara Lee remained quiet, but was immediately struck by how Ivy asked about suspects. The newspaper had only mentioned the death… but not that it was possibly murder. She wondered how Nana June would handle the situation.
"Jerry has a right to his feelings," Nana June said simply, patting Ivy’s arm. "Raymond wasn't a kind man."
"No. No, he wasn't." Ivy's voice dropped even lower. "Especially not to Jerry. Not to us."
Sara Lee took a bite of her chicken parmesan, trying to look casual while her heart raced. This was it. The opening they'd been hoping for.
"I remember some tension at the festival," Nana June said carefully. "Raymond said something about Jerry?"
Ivy's laugh was bitter. "That was the least of it.
That was just Saturday. Raymond's been saying things about Jerry…
about us for years." She twisted her wedding ring, a simple gold band that had probably cost a fraction of what her sisters' rings had cost. "My family never approved of my marriage.
Petunia, Rose, and Dahlia all married above themselves.
" Her tone made the word sound pompous. "Men with money and status.
When I fell in love with Jerry, a cook, an immigrant's son.
.." She shook her head. "You'd have thought I'd committed a crime. "
Nana June's expression was sympathetic but attentive. "Families can be difficult about such things."
"Difficult." Ivy laughed again, no humor in it. "That's a kind word for it. My mother stopped speaking to me for a year. My father threatened to cut me off entirely. But I didn't care. I loved Jerry. Still do. Thirty years later, and I'd make the same choice."
Sara Lee felt her throat tighten at the fierce love in Ivy's voice. This was what marriage should be—choosing each other despite everything.
Ivy shook her head. “My parents finally forgave me, seeing what a hard worker and good provider Jerry was to me.”
“Family can also be very complicated,” Nana June said, her voice projecting true empathy.
This elicited a scoff from Ivy. “Yes! Absolutely yes.” She suddenly looked at the two women and exclaimed, “I’m so sorry. Here I am talking throughout your meal.”
She started to rise, but Sara Lee cried out, “Please stay.” When Ivy looked at her, she glanced at Nana June, receiving a minuscule nod, she said, “It’s nice to talk to you. We don’t get the chance very often. So, if you don’t mind us eating this delicious meal while we talk, please stay.”
Ivy smiled and mumbled her thanks. After another moment, she turned to June and said, “You probably never knew I’d gone out with Raymond, did you?”
“If I did, I’m sure my old mind has forgotten,” Nana June said smoothly. “Please tell us all about it.”
Ivy shrugged. "There’s not much to tell.
Raymond and I went out a few times in high school.
It was a joke that all four of us sisters had gone out with him.
I was never interested in him, but he would crow about the Carter sisters.
And then after I met Jerry… well, there was no other man for me.
But every time we'd see Raymond at family gatherings, he'd make some snide comment.
About Jerry's accent. About how I'd married down. About how I’d thrown everything away.
He even made a rude comment about our children, using some ethnic slur.
" Her hands clenched into fists. "That was what made Jerry finally lose his temper.
About fifteen years ago, at a Christmas dinner.
Jerry punched him. Gave him a black eye. "
Sara Lee's eyes widened. That was the second story they'd heard about Raymond getting punched. Horace had done it defending Petunia. Jerry had done it defending his wife and children.
"What happened?" Nana June asked gently.
"Raymond threatened to press charges. To sue Jerry, ruin the restaurant, destroy everything we'd built.
" Ivy's voice shook slightly. "But then Horace stepped in.
Told Raymond that if he pursued it, the whole family would know what Raymond had said.
The racist, vile things. And their parents threatened to cut Raymond off from the family entirely if he didn't let it drop. "
"So Raymond backed down," Nana June said.
"He backed down. But he never forgave us.
Jerry, Horace, or me. Or his parents, if I had to guess.
" Ivy looked toward the kitchen, where Jerry was visible through the serving window, chopping vegetables with precise, angry strokes.
"Every few years, Raymond would come back to town and find some way to remind us that he still thought he was better than us.
Some small cruelty. Some comments. It was like he couldn't let it go. "