I left Bette’s feeling happy, having found out a little more about Ashland and Calpurnia. Did I believe a slave killed her? No, but Mr. Cottonwood was certainly a likely suspect. The Hometown Donut Shop was on the way, and I decided to stop and pick up a few pastries for the crew. We’d have at least six of us working inside the house today, not to mention all those that would work outside. A couple dozen donuts would be a nice treat. I pulled into the packed parking lot, grabbing the last spot. Fortunately, the line wasn’t long. I stepped up to the counter and ordered three dozen plain donuts and two cartons of orange juice.

The little diner was bustling; even the counter was full. I surveyed the crowd and locked eyes with William. He didn’t say anything to me, but he raised a foam cup as a greeting and then quickly turned his attention back to his donut. Hmm…I guess this is how it’s going to be now. The perky server brought me my order, and I clumsily stacked up the boxes and tried to get out the door without losing any. William was on his feet in an instant, pushing the door open for me. He followed me to my car and opened the rear door. I slid the donuts in and arranged the juice cartons on the floor. “Thank you.”

“I want to apologize for last night.” William ran his hand through his dark hair. “I was wrong to go off on you like that. I guess, well, I guess I was really hoping for a different conversation.”

“I’m sorry too. I should have had this conversation with you before I left, but to be honest, I was a coward. I like you, and I value your friendship. I wasn’t fair to you.”

He tucked a wisp of my hair behind my ear to stop it from whipping my face in the morning breeze. “Always worried about someone else, CJ. It’s okay, I promise.” As I drove away, I wiped a tear off my cheek. I did like him only as a friend. Right?

The crews were working outside, setting the grounds free from choking vines and gnarly underbrush. Junk trees, like old “popcorn” trees, were being cut down. But of course, no one was touching the live oaks. Rotten wooden siding was being replaced, and I could see the beginnings of Mobile’s newest living museum come to life.

I waved one of the crew over and handed off two of the boxes of donuts and one carton of juice. I headed indoors with the remaining goodies, feeling confident and happy. Inside were Mia, Chip, three interns from the University of South Alabama and, of course, Matthews. Somewhere in the house, I could hear TD working on wood. Except for the finishing touches, the Blue Room and a small side room were nearly completely restored and ready for use. The rest of the house would be restored in sections, with careful attention to detail. I could see TD had placed heavy plastic over the doorway to the Blue Room, since the door had not been hung yet. That would keep dust from collecting on our equipment. I was happy to feel cool air in our room. Someone had brought in a tower AC unit. What a brilliant idea! I was relieved to hear the upstairs was cool as well.