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then left the house at 8:30 am. Gam had left for work a half-hour earlier.

The front parking lot of my restaurant had become a sore spot with me. I knew it was small when I rented the building. Now the smallness aggravated me. And it aggravated me to see customers riding around in it looking for empty parking spaces. Knowing there are plenty of parking in the back of my restaurant in the shopping center parking lot didn’t ease my frustration. Providing the best customer service to my patrons in and outside the building is of upmost important to me. Another reason to find a bigger location, Aunt Clove would say.

After putting my things down on my credenza, I punched Detective Rivers’ number into my phone. I got her voice message. I left her a detailed message and asked her to call me back today.

I had been in my office for an hour answering e-mail when Gam called.

“Hi, Baby.”

“Hi, Gam. What’s going on?”

“I need a favor. I just got off the phone with Mom. She and Daddy want to have dinner with us tonight at your place. I know it is short notice, but can you do it?”

“Sure I can. I don’t have anything planned to do tonight. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Mom says it is a surprise.”

“That sounds alarming coming from your mother. She is usually a straight shooter.”

“I know. I need to call Mom back. Is 6:00 pm okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. The special is fried chicken.”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you at 6:00 pm.”

“Okay, see you then. I love you.”

I hung up the phone and began to ponder the Ellisons’ short notice dinner invitation. This was certainly out of character for Gam’s mother, a master at planning and reserving dates far in advance.

Cuthbert and Rachel Ellison won my heart the day Gam introduced me to them. I will forever remember the day I met them. They were warm, inviting, and loving toward me and still are. Rachel is one of the kindest and caring women I know. I loved her from the start. Her five feet four inches, 150 pound high spirited self is something to be admired. Her skin is the color of caramel. She has big brown eyes, a small nose and mouth, and she wears her gray hair hanging long past her shoulders.

Cuthbert, Cutty as everyone calls him, is like Gam in looks, height, and mannerisms. Cutty and Rachel are both in their early seventies. I pondered a little longer on why the urgency to meet tonight, then work matters pushed my thinking about the dinner aside.

At noon, Aunt Clove rang.

“Vett, you want to have lunch with me?” I hadn’t realized it was lunchtime.

“Sure. Are you ready to eat now?”

“Yeah. What do you want?”

“I’ll have the spinach salad and iced tea.”

“Eating light, I see.”

“I’ll probably be doing this for the rest of the month. I ate so much at Serenity.”

“With all that exercising you do, you probably haven’t picked up a pound.”

“It sure feels like it.”

“Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll bring the food to your office.”

“Okay. Aunt Clove, Gam and his parents are coming for dinner tonight at 6:00 pm. I just want to let you know.”

“Do you need for me to stay?”

“Oh no. You always want to know when the family is coming to dinner, so I’m letting you know.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I opened the door and Aunt Clove walked in carrying a tray with two bowls of spinach salads and two glasses of iced teas. I quickly grabbed the white table cloth from my bottom cabinet drawer, then put it on my small table. Aunt Clove arranged the food and drinks on the table. She prayed. We then began eating.

“This is good.” I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. I should have. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, and my stomach had been growling for an hour before Aunt Clove telephoned me.

“You remember my good friend Tish that lives down the road from me,” Aunt Clove asked.

“I do.”

“Spinach salad is one of her favorite foods. Many times during the summer months, she has given me money to bring her a spinach salad home for dinner.”

“How is she?”

“She is fretting because she does not have anyone to drive her home from Orlando, Florida. She called me this morning asking if I knew anyone who wanted a job.”

“A job?”

“For years now, from the day after Thanksgiving to May, she lives in Orlando. She lives down the road from me May through Thanksgiving. She is afraid of flying, so she pays a man in our neighborhood to drive her to Florida in her car. She buys the man a return ticket home and a ticket back to Florida when she is ready to come home. She pays him for his time, too. Well, the man broke his leg last week and has already told her he can’t come to get her this year.”

“What’s she going to do?”

“Get her tail on a flight like the rest of us do when we go back and forth to Florida,” Aunt Clove said flippantly.

“Her fear of flying may be so debilitating that she shouldn’t get on a plane.”

“She’s never flown. She doesn’t know how she will react. She just has it in her mind that the plane is going to fall from the sky with her in it.”

“Fear is a terrible thing. It holds you back from doing a lot of things you would otherwise do.”

“I know. I’ve offered to fly down to Florida with her. She won’t do it. I think it’s kind of funny that she is now stuck without a driver,” Aunt Clove snickered.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I have told her many times something like this might happen. She swore it would never happen.”

“Can she stay the summer in Orlando?”

“She’s already rented her place for the summer.”

“Then, what’s she going to do?”

“I’m looking around trying to find someone to go get her.

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