Haley was at the table fixing a plate. “Your papa’s getting smashed,” I told her. “That’s not like him.”

“I think he’s more upset about his business than you realize, Mama. Papa can’t cope with change.”

“True.” I realized guiltily that I hadn’t talked to Fred about the details of the Metal Fab merger. I put some crab claws on a plate and added some cocktail sauce. I considered telling Haley about Lolita and the turtle earring but decided against it. Instead, I told her that Frances was on her way over.

“She’s not going to want to go home tomorrow,” Haley said. “And I’ve got to be at work Monday morning.”

“If she doesn’t, your papa and I will take you to Mobile. You can get a direct flight.” It saddened me to think of Haley leaving. “It hasn’t been much of a vacation, has it? How about we all go to The Flamingo tonight? Eat high on the hog.”

Haley grinned. “Thanks, Mama, but I’ve got a date.”

“Major Bissell? How come I thought you weren’t interested?”

“He’s a nice man.”

I certainly hoped so.

I took the food to Fred and ordered him to eat it. Sister had Berry West cornered, Frances had come in, waved, and was already talking to Jason Marley, and Fairchild was surrounded by women. So much for the departed Millicent and Emily.

But not as departed as I had thought. Jason Marley went over to Fairchild and they talked for a moment. Then Jason clapped his hands to get our attention and told us to freshen our drinks and come into the media room.

“The media room?” Fred asked.

“He’s going to show us his CD-ROM.”

“Oh, my,” Frances murmured as we followed Jason into a room that seemed to have at least one of everything Circuit City might sell.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Jason said. Which wasn’t hard to do. Someone had placed folding chairs before a giant TV screen, creating a little theater.

“Now,” he said when we were settled, “Fairchild and I have collaborated on this. I hope it will mean as much to you as it does to us.”

The lights dimmed and we heard Millicent’s voice. “Fairchild Weatherby, act like you’ve got sense!” And then she was on the screen, laughing, holding her hand toward Fairchild’s video camera. “Quit, I say!” She turned and ran down the beach, a pretty gray-haired woman in a flowered bathing suit whose little skirt didn’t hide the fact that she was plump. “I’m going to get you for this,” she shouted back, and we could hear Fairchild chuckling.

None of us had been expecting this.

“Dear God,” Fred muttered.

Someone left the room abruptly, slamming the door.

Emily Peacock looked up from the very place where we were sitting, her smile wide. “Don’t do that, Jason. I’m watching “General Hospital.”