should come to you.â
âI donât want it. She can have it. All of it. If I have money, it will only bring more trouble.â
âThis about your mother?â
âGuess you heard about her. I didnât even know she was here in Riverville. Eugene told Mama, back in Dallas, to stay away from me. Thereâs already been timesââ
She shut her mouth as I turned in at the Chaunceysâ long, dusty drive.
âThey know Iâm coming, these women?â
âSaid they were happy to have you. Fixing sandwiches or something. Donât get your hopes up for a good meal. Just be as gracious as the girls will be to you.â
The road in was long and winding, ending in the hard-packed, dirt turnaround in front of the ancient, low-roofed ranch house. Beyond the house were the girlsâ pecan groves, a bunch of tired-looking trees with weeds growing between the rows.
The twins, in their usual getup, met us on the porch, both hugging Jeannie and giving their condolences. Melody was the first to invite us on in and warn Miranda not to keep us standing out there in the heat.
We were led straight to a table set for four in the long, low main room. Miranda told us to sit while Melody fussed with a plate filled with white bread and some kind of meat.
âDonât know what this is, to tell the truth.â She poked at the meat. âMiranda did the food today. Canât vouch for anything.â
Miranda grumbled but passed the platter of mystery meat and bread without apology.
We were told to eat and nothing more was said for a while as the girls passed hot sauce our way, along with a bag of taco chips.
Melody got up and scurried around the table, filling our tall glasses from a sweating pitcher of sweet tea.
After weâd eaten, Jeannie got tears in her eyes, thanking the girls for their kindness. Melody got tears in her eyes right back at her and mumbled all kinds of things about the sorrow of losing a husband and how life goes on, but never the same, and all Jeannie could do was hold on tight to that love and hope to join him one day in heaven and . . .
Miranda couldnât take another word and blew up, telling Melody to keep her trap shut. âYou donât know a thing aboutlosing a husband. You never had one to lose. And if you did, bet anything youâd be happy to be shut of âim.â
âWhy, Miranda Chauncey!â Melodyâs buxom chest swelled up like a couple of balloons. âWhat a thing to say in front of a newly-made widow. Least you can do is have a little respectââ
That went on for a while. Jeannie and I avoided each otherâs eyes and sipped at the tea.
When things settled down, I filled the girls in on what weâd learned that morning. Miranda took it easily. Melody moaned and reached over to pat Jeannieâs hand, murmuring her sorrow at such a sad state of affairs. Soon Miranda was shrewdly asking Jeannie, âHowâre you getting along with Elizabeth? She gets bowed up at the best of times. I can only imagineâlosing Eugene. The apple of her eye.â
Jeannie took a while to answer then shook her head. âNot very well. Soon as she heard Eugeneâd been killed by somebody and that it wasnât an accident after all, she kind of looked at me and I think she decided I had something to do with it.â
âWhaâ the hellââ Miranda stopped herself, looking disgusted.
âTerrible.â Melody took over. âWhenâs the memorial? You know me and Miranda want to be there. Especially now that we know you need people to kind of line up on your side.â
âElizabethâs seeing to everything. But she canât set the day yet. Hunter says the coronerâs not through with Eugeneâsââ
âYouâre not going back there, are you?â Miranda blurted out. âTo that house?â
Jeannie said nothing.
âSeems like an awful thing. You in