“I can take her something to eat.”

He was silent for a moment. “That might be nice. Go on and make her a plate and run it over to her. But don’t linger too long.”

“Can Talley come?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Talley ate the last of her chowder and brought her plate to the sink. “Thank you, Uncle Jake.”

“I’ll need you girls back in a half hour so you can work the drink hut by the pool. Henry’s running late and won’t make it today.”

“We can do that.” Ruth took a clean plate and bowl. At the stove she selected a neat square of corn bread, coleslaw, and a big slice of butter and filled the bowl with soup, which she covered with an inverted plate. She carefully wrapped up clean utensils in an aqua cloth napkin and grabbed a bottle of soda from the refrigerator. “Be back soon, Daddy.”

As Ruth and Talley headed out the side door, Mama came into the kitchen. “Where are you girls headed, Ruth?”

“Daddy said we could take a plate to Carlotta.”

“Daddy said that?” Mama was quiet for a moment. “Don’t be away too long.”

“He already said.” As the girls crossed the hot sand, Ruth, mindful the soup didn’t slosh over the bowl’s sides, moved as fast as she dared.

As they approached the cottage, music drifted out of the open windows. She could hear a woman singing, and as she grew closer, she peered in the window to see Carlotta standing in front of the mirror singing.

Her voice had a slight raspy sound as she sang “A Little Bird Told Me.” She swayed her hips back and forth, snapped her fingers, and tapped her bare foot.

“Her voice is so pretty,” Talley whispered.

“I know.” Balancing the plates, Ruth moved her hips back and forth, trying to mimic Carlotta. However, her movements weren’t as smooth and looked a little jerky. Talley giggled.

Whiskey barked and trotted toward the window where Ruth was standing.

Carlotta turned, her gaze locking on Ruth before she switched off the record and moved toward the door. “Ruth and Talley.”

Ruth held up the plate and the soda. “We brought you something to eat. Mama and Daddy thought you might be hungry.”

“They thought I’d be hungry?”

“Well, I did. And Daddy and Mama said to go on and drop off a plate. He makes the best fish chowder in the state.”

Carlotta smiled and pushed open the screen door. She accepted the plate and the soda and set both on the counter. “I do appreciate the meal, girls. I normally don’t eat a big dinner before I sing, but the soda will be a nice treat.”

“The chowder tastes good cold,” Ruth said. “But that butter might melt.”

“Then I best put it in the icebox. Come on in, girls.”

Whiskey came up to Ruth, sniffed her feet, and licked her fingers as she extended them. A grumbling bark rumbling in her throat, she retired back to a pink cushion Carlotta had set out.