laughed at what heâd written: Weâre in this together. The payoff is one cooked goose. âYou donât need to do that,â she insisted.
Justin looked earnest. âYears ago I said Iâd roast a goose for Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner. Now Iâll make good on that promise, but Iâll cook it at Momâs condo. Goose is greasy. I donât want the fire alarm going off at my apartment or scaring your guests. Besides, I canât think of another way to make up for saddling you with my crazy family. I should never have suggested your B&B.â
Judith glanced at Mike, who was looking bemused. âWell?â
âWhy not?â Mike said. âHey, Justy, tell your mom Kristin can help. Her grannyâs an expert on roast goose.â
Visions of the know-it-all Kristin and Justinâs indomitable mother, Germaine, facing off with basting brushes over a roasting pan made Judith blanch. âPlease,â she begged, âforget about your uncleâs stay. Itâs over.â
âOh, no,â Justin countered. âSign here. I wouldnât feel right about this whole mess if you didnât.â
Judith scribbled her initials. âOkay, but itâs not necessary.â
âIt is to me,â Justin said, starting down the steps. âOne way or another, Iâll make darned sure you get whatâs coming to you.â
Watching Mike and Justin walk toward the driveway, Judith realized that Justinâs last words had a double meaningâand one of them wasnât good.
Chapter Three
A s Judith slipped Justinâs IOU into the strongbox where she kept cash and credit card receipts, the golden-wedding-anniversary couple returned. Judith hurried to meet them before they headed upstairs. The seafood restaurant on the bay had been excellent; their room was very comfortable; they had no idea what to expect of the city, never before having gone farther from Memphis than Little Rock, where their son and his family lived. After more than fifteen years of innkeeping, Judith could ask questions, hear answers, make appropriate responses, and establish rapport while her brain was otherwise engaged. None of her guests seemed to realize she wasnât really listening. According to Renie, Judith was so adept at exuding warmthâand telling lies when the need aroseâthat she could probably fool Saint Peter when she arrived at heavenâs Pearly Gates.
As soon as the Tennessee couple headed upstairs, Judith went back to the kitchen, where Mike was pouring himself a glass of milk.
âAre the boys asleep?â she asked.
âThey should be,â Mike replied, closing the fridge door. âThey went on a sugar high after Gee-Gee let them plunder her box of chocolates. She never let me do that. Then she told them SantaClaus got drunk, fell off the roof, and killed himself. It took Kris and me ten minutes to make them stop crying.â
Judith shook her head in bewilderment. âI honestly never know when Mother is genuinely gaga or just putting me on.â
Mike shrugged. âSheâs earned the right to be muddled. The boys like her. Maybe they sense sheâs got a good heart.â
Judith shot her son a hard look. âA strong heart, anyway.â
âMaâ¦â The single word conveyed reproach.
âI know,â Judith responded. âI get frustrated. Iâm glad the boys have a great-grandmother. You got shortchanged with grandparents. Only Mother was there for youâand for me. My father died too young.â Feeling her eyes grow moist, she turned away, wishing as she often did that Donald Grover wasnât such a distant, yet dear, memory. âIâm so glad youâre here,â she said, and turned around to hug her son. âYour boys are such darlings. I hope theyâre having fun.â
Mike laughed. âThey are,â he said as Judith moved out of his embrace. âBut theyâre worn out.