Free Nuts and Buried by Elizabeth Lee

should come to you.”
    â€œI don’t want it. She can have it. All of it. If I have money, it will only bring more trouble.”
    â€œThis about your mother?”
    â€œGuess you heard about her. I didn’t even know she was here in Riverville. Eugene told Mama, back in Dallas, to stay away from me. There’s already been times—”
    She shut her mouth as I turned in at the Chaunceys’ long, dusty drive.
    â€œThey know I’m coming, these women?”
    â€œSaid they were happy to have you. Fixing sandwiches or something. Don’t get your hopes up for a good meal. Just be as gracious as the girls will be to you.”
    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 girls’ 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.
    â€œDon’t know what this is, to tell the truth.” She poked at the meat. “Miranda did the food today. Can’t vouch for anything.”
    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 we’d 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 couldn’t take another word and blew up, telling Melody to keep her trap shut. “You don’t know a thing aboutlosing a husband. You never had one to lose. And if you did, bet anything you’d be happy to be shut of ’im.”
    â€œWhy, Miranda Chauncey!” Melody’s buxom chest swelled up like a couple of balloons. “What a thing to say in front of a newly-made widow. Least you can do is have a little respect—”
    That went on for a while. Jeannie and I avoided each other’s eyes and sipped at the tea.
    When things settled down, I filled the girls in on what we’d learned that morning. Miranda took it easily. Melody moaned and reached over to pat Jeannie’s hand, murmuring her sorrow at such a sad state of affairs. Soon Miranda was shrewdly asking Jeannie, “How’re you getting along with Elizabeth? She gets bowed up at the best of times. I can only imagine—losing Eugene. The apple of her eye.”
    Jeannie took a while to answer then shook her head. “Not very well. Soon as she heard Eugene’d been killed by somebody and that it wasn’t an accident after all, she kind of looked at me and I think she decided I had something to do with it.”
    â€œWha’ the hell—” Miranda stopped herself, looking disgusted.
    â€œTerrible.” Melody took over. “When’s 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€œElizabeth’s seeing to everything. But she can’t set the day yet. Hunter says the coroner’s not through with Eugene’s—”
    â€œYou’re not going back there, are you?” Miranda blurted out. “To that house?”
    Jeannie said nothing.
    â€œSeems like an awful thing. You in