Free Arsenic and Old Cake by Jacklyn Brady Page B

to strike me down where I stood.

Eight
    Just when I thought all was lost, I got a Hail Mary pass in the form of an elderly black man wearing a Confederate army uniform, complete with frock coat and a double row of buttons. He marched slowly, his back ramrod straight, his face devoid of all expression. The uniform was strange enough by itself, but the fact that an African American man was wearing it was stranger still. Was this our supposed Monroe Magee?
    Behind him, an old woman with caramel-colored skin and gray hair leaned heavily on a walker as she shuffled through the door. Whoever these two were, I owed them big-time.
    Primrose looked flustered by their arrival. She ignored the woman and spoke to the Confederate soldier. “Well, Grey, I didn’t realize you were coming. I thought you were out.”
    “Temporary change of duty,” he said. “My contributions were not required this afternoon.”
    “In that getup, it’s no wonder,” Dontae grumbled. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
    Grey waved off his comment and headed toward a chair. “I’m tryin’ to give an unbiased account of the conflict,” he snarled. “Not that you’d understand that.”
    The woman gave her walker a sharp rap on the floor, demanding everyone’s attention. Her body seemed frail, but the sparkle in her eyes made it clear that she had her wits about her. “And what about me, Primrose? I told you I’d be a few minutes late, but you started anyway.” She turned to the soldier with a scowl. “Didn’t I tell you she’d try to cut me out?”
    I opened my mouth to assure her we hadn’t actually started anything, but Primrose spoke up first. “ I told you five o’clock sharp, Lula Belle. It’s already ten past.” Her demeanor had changed drastically. Gone was her smile and the fluttering of her hands. A look of irritation had settled on her thin face.
    “So I’m a few minutes late,” Lula Belle groused. “It’s not the end of the world. You could have waited.”
    Primrose lifted her chin defiantly. “ You could have made more of an effort.”
    I know it’s wrong to find pleasure in someone else’s unhappiness, but I was so relieved by the shift of attention away from Gabriel and me, I experienced a moment of gratitude for the bad feelings between the two women. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that they weren’t the best of friends, but that did make me wonder why they chose to live in the same house. In fact, the dynamic of the entire group confused me.
    Strangely enough, Hyacinth, who had seemed irritated by the world in general, now wore an indulgent smile. “Sister, you know Lula Belle does her best.”
    Primrose tsk ed her tongue in irritation. “Her best to make me miserable, you mean. This may come as a surprise to you, Lula Belle, but the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
    Lula Belle’s walker thumped on the floor as she inched toward a chair. “Somebody ought to give you the same piece of advice, Primrose dear.”
    Well now, this was fun. I glanced at the others again to see if I was the only one who felt uncomfortable with the bickering, but except for one of the other honeymoon brides, nobody even seemed to notice it except Pastor Rod. He turned a benevolent smile on the two women. “Now, now ladies. The rest of us know that you’re longtime friends, but our guests may not understand. We don’t want to frighten them away, do we?”
    Lula Belle sent Primrose a triumphant smile. Primrose snorted and turned toward the Civil War soldier. “Well, since you’re here, Professor, come on in. We want to toast the newlyweds.” She picked up a bottle of grocery store champagne and counted the glasses on the tray. “Oh bother,” she said with a scowl aimed at Lula Belle. “I’m short. Everybody sit tight. I need to fetch more glasses.”
    As she scurried out the door, the professor shook Gabriel’s hand and bowed low over mine. “Brigadier General Edward Asbury O’Neal at