“We’re delighted to know that you’re in such good health.” I decided I’d better speak in an effort to defuse the situation. “It’s only natural that Mrs. Marter wants to take care of you.”

“We’ll make every effort to see that the events we’re planning don’t tax your strength too much,” Teresa said. “And if at any time you don’t feel up to participating, you just let us know. Everyone will understand.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Mrs. Cartwright accepted a tall glass from her daughter. Mrs. Marter’s expression remained mulish, but I supposed she had decided that protesting further in front of guests would not be seemly. “Marcella makes the best sweet tea. Y’all drink up. I’m sure you’re parched by now.”

That was the first kind thing I’d heard Mrs. Cartwright say about her daughter. I surely hoped they got along better in private than they did with company around.

Teresa and I accepted glasses, and I took a cautious sip. Mrs. Cartwright hadn’t exaggerated. The tea was absolutely delicious, sweet, but not cloyingly so, and brewed to perfection. I drank half of my glass quickly, happy to feel the cold liquid sliding down.

“I brought water for your cat.” Mrs. Marter plunked a bowl on the floor by my chair and poured water from a small pitcher into it. Diesel peeped out from under my chair and looked first at Mrs. Marter, then at me. “Go ahead, boy, if you want some,” I told him. He sniffed at the bowl before he dipped his head and began to lap at the liquid.

“Thank you. It was kind of you to think of him.” I held up my glass. “And your mother is right. This tea is wonderful.”

“It sure is.” Teresa smiled. “Hits the spot beautifully.”

Mrs. Marter flushed, apparently embarrassed by the praise. “Thank you. There’s more if you want.”

Teresa and I both asked for refills, and Mrs. Cartwright regarded us benignly—or so I thought, since it was hard to read her expression thanks to her dark glasses. When you can’t see a person’s eyes, you can never truly tell what’s going on in her head. At least she smiled at us.

Teresa set her glass on the floor beside her chair and then reached into her purse to extract a few pages. She examined them before she stood to hand one to Mrs. Cartwright. “This is a tentative schedule I drew up. Please look over it at your leisure, and let me know later if everything is okay. We can adjust it however you like.”

Mrs. Cartwright accepted the paper and appeared to examine it. “At first glance this looks just fine to me, but I’ll go over it with Marcella and Eugene and then let you know.”