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have no trouble.”
    “Then tell me. Why do they hate each other?” Ibby said.
    “All right, I’ll tell you what I know, but don’t
never
let on to Miss Fannie that I said nothing. That’s Rule Number Six.”
    “That’s Rule Number Five, Mama. There ain’t no Rule Number Six,” Doll said.
    “Doll, shut your mouth. Miss Ibby knows what I’m getting at.”
    Doll rolled her eyes. “Maybe Rule Number Six should be, don’t argue with Mama.”
    “That’s an unwritten rule. Don’t need no number.” Queenie paused for a moment. “You want to know about your mama and your daddy? I’ll tell you. Miss Fannie had Mr. Graham’s life all planned out for him. She figured as soon as he finished law school at Tulane, he’d take a job in town, get married, and move into this here house and start a family. Miss Fannie always wanted this house to be full of life, full of children running around. That all changed the night Mr. Graham went out with some of his law school buddies over to a restaurant on Carrollton Avenue, where he met a waitress named Vidrine Crump. Miss Fannie thought it was just a passing crush. There were plenty of other girls chasing after Mr. Graham. But somehow Miss Vidrine caught his eye. She weren’t the kind of girl . . .” Queenie cast her eyes down.
    “Not the kind of girl Mr. Graham was used to going with. That’s what Mama’s trying to say,” Doll interjected.
    Queenie narrowed her eyes at Doll before turning back to Ibby. “Fannie weren’t too happy about Mr. Graham seeing Miss Vidrine,and she made her feelings known. She wanted Mr. Graham to marry someone, someone—”
    “Someone better,” Doll chimed in. “Miss Fannie used to call her that good-for-nothing, big-busted, loudmouthed redneck from Dry Prong, Mississippi. Remember?”
    Queenie pinched up her face. “Girl, hush your mouth. That’s her mama we talking about.” She put her hands on her knees and let out a big sigh. “Your daddy, he comes home one day and announces that he gone marry Miss Vidrine whether Miss Fannie likes it or not. Miss Fannie told Mr. Graham that if he did that, he weren’t to step foot in this house again. So what does Mr. Graham do? He elopes with your mama. Now, whose idea it was to move so far away? I think that was your mama’s doing on account I think your daddy loved living here, thorns and all. Been a good twelve years, and Miss Fannie ain’t seen Mr. Graham since. Miss Fannie didn’t even know she had a grandbaby until your daddy broke down and sent a picture few years back.”
    All three looked up when the screened door off the back porch creaked open and a dark-skinned man dressed in overalls and a white T-shirt came into the kitchen. He took off his hat, scrunched it up in his weathered hands.
    He nodded his gray head toward the ladies. “How do, Queenie? How do, Doll?”
    “How do, Mr. Pierce,” Queenie said as she pushed herself away from the table.
    “Got some mighty fine redfish for you today.” He looked over in Ibby’s direction. “Who’ve we got here?”
    “This here’s Miss Fannie’s grandbaby, Ibby. She’s gone be visiting for a while.” Queenie nodded. “Mr. Graham’s daughter. Can’t you see the resemblance?”
    “Sure enough.” He tipped his head. “She got his same eyes. Your daddy, he were a good man, Miss Ibby. Smart as a whip, too.”
    “You knew him?” Ibby asked.
    “I been coming around this here house ever since your daddy were a little boy,” Mr. Pierce said. “Sorry to hear he’s passed on.”
    Queenie followed him out the back door to a battered pickup truck, parked in the driveway, where blocks of ice held fish spread out evenly in rows. She inspected the fish by running her finger down the scales. Mr. Pierce wrapped the three she’d chosen in newspaper, then followed her back into the house with a red mesh sack flung over his shoulder.
    “Thank you kindly, Mr. Pierce,” Queenie said.
    He set the sack of oysters down onto the picnic