Mel showed me the order form and pencil supplied to give Marietta our choices of entrees, side dishes and desserts. “Only place I’ve ever seen that does this,” he said. “It’s a great idea. Take a look at your menu, because I promise you’ll have a hard time choosing.”

He was right. I wanted every single bit of Southern comfort food listed: fried chicken, turkey and dressing, baked chicken and gravy, country fried steak, chicken and dumplings, roast pork, honey-glazed ham—the entrees were endless—and every side dish, too. I wondered if cheese grits and macaroni and cheese might be overdoing it.

Marietta placed the world’s tiniest cup of collard greens and a mini corn muffin in front of me and left some for Deanna, too.

“It’s tradition,” she said. “Complimentary taste of heaven. And the good food you’ll get today.”

Deanna slid back into her seat, hair and makeup freshly fixed and smiling. She picked at her tiny collards with a fork and asked Mel, “Please tell me about my mother.”

He looked at the table. “Well, for starters, she was good with secrets. I never had any idea she had a relationship with my cousin Sam, much less a daughter. And I talked to Violet a lot. I was her friend as well as her attorney.” He played with the salt shaker, frowning. “Honestly, she was a good bit older, but I always had a crush on her. Everybody loved her.”

“That’s true, Deanna. She wanted it to be the title of a book her book,” I chimed in. I caught Mel searching her face her along with me. Her eyes were Violet’s deep brown and she’d inherited her mother’s skin. Anyone would think she was at least fifteen years younger if they didn’t know better. If she had Sam’s and Mel’s red hair, it had been transformed by a pro into a light shade of brunette.

“We have a lot to talk about,” I patted Deanna’s arm. “Let’s get through lunch and then we’ll take a little walk.”

Mel glanced at his watch. “I won’t have time to join you after we eat. I have a three o’clock.”

“Can you call and reschedule, Mel? Just one hour later?” I asked. “I want to show y’all something.” I smiled at Deanna, who eyed my martini as Marietta set it down.

“I’ll have one of those, too,” she told her. I was surprised; I had her down as a sweet tea person.

“I’m starving.” I waved my pencil and order form in the air at Mel. “Let’s fill these out quick before I change my mind. I’m trying to make a firm commitment to turkey and dressing. Or maybe chicken and dumplings.”