Myra said, “Okay, here are the rules. No talking about your own books, and no politics. There are some Republicans here.”

“What!” Andy said. “Who invited them?”

“I did, and if you don’t like it you can leave now.”

“Who are they?” Andy demanded.

“Me,” Amy said, raising her hand proudly. It was obvious this had happened before.

“I’m a Republican too,” Cobb said. “Even though I’ve been to prison and roughed up by the FBI, I’m still a loyal Republican.”

“God help us,” Andy mumbled.

“See what I mean,” Myra said. “No politics.”

“How about football?” Cobb asked.

“And no football,” Myra said with a smile. “Bruce, what would you like to talk about?”

“Politics and football,” Bruce said and everyone laughed.

“What’s happening at the store this week?”

“Well, Wednesday Serena Roach is back. I expect to see you all at the store for the signing.”

“She got trashed in the Times this morning,” Amy said, with a hint of satisfaction. “Did y’all see it?”

“Who reads the Times?” Cobb asked. “Left-wing garbage.”

“I’d love to be trashed in the Times, or anywhere else for that matter,” Leigh said. “What’s her book about?”

“It’s her fourth novel and it’s about a single woman in New York City who’s having relationship problems.”

“How original,” Andy blurted. “Can’t wait to read that one.” He drained his second double vodka and asked Dora for another. Myra frowned at Bruce, who shrugged as if to say, “He’s a grown man.”

“Gazpacho,” Myra said as she picked up her spoon. “Dig in.”

Within seconds they were all chatting at once as separate conversations spun off. Cobb and Andy quietly discussed politics. Leigh and Jay huddled at the end of the table and talked about someone’s novel. Myra and Amy were curious about a new restaurant. And in a soft voice Bruce said to Mercer, “I’m sorry I brought up Tessa’s death. It was quite rude.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said. “It was a long time ago.”

“I knew Porter well. He was a regular at the store, loved detective stories. Tessa dropped in once a year but didn’t buy a lot of books. Seems like I vaguely remember a granddaughter many years ago.”

“How long are you here?” Noelle asked.

Mercer was confident that everything she had told Myra had already been relayed to Bruce. “A few months. I’m between jobs, or I should say that I’m out of work. For the past three years I’ve been teaching but I hope that’s behind me. And you? Tell me about your store.”

“I sell French antiques. I have a shop next door to the bookstore. I’m from New Orleans but I met Bruce and moved here. Just after Katrina.”

Soft, clear, perfect diction, with no trace of New Orleans. No trace of anything. And no wedding ring but plenty of jewelry.

Mercer said, “That was 2005. A month after Tessa’s accident. I remember it well.”

Bruce asked, “Were you here when it happened?”

“No, that was the first summer in fourteen years that I did not spend here. I had to get a job to pay for college and I was working in Memphis, my hometown.”