Free A Peach of a Pair by Kim Boykin Page B

mean girls. She’d love to move in, and you love Donna. She’s such a sweet girl.”
    “She is, but she’s not you. I love you so much, Nettie, it hurts that you’re leaving. Why you’re leaving. I’m worried about you.”
    “Please don’t be.” I swallowed back tears and wheeled around to see Remmy watching me. I swiped at my eyes and attempted to smile, pleading for a few more moments of privacy, but he didn’t move. Oh, yes, Katie had said he was a stickler for the phone bill and goodness knows how long I’d been on. “I have to go now, but I’ll be there to stand up with you and Jimmy at the end of June. Promise. I love you, Sue.”
    “Then don’t say it. Nettie. Don’t say good-bye.” She gulped the words, sobbing. “Never say good-bye.”
    “I won’t. We’re sisters.” I set the phone gently on the cradle and turned to see him still there. “I’m sorry. My roommate is a little longwinded.” I grabbed my purse and pulled out a few bills and put them beside the phone. “Three dollars should more than cover the cost of the call. If it’s more, please let me know and I’ll pay you the rest.”
    “Put your money back in your pocketbook, Nettie Gilbert.” He smiled. “Cora May says dinner’s ready, and she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
    He motioned toward what was a beautiful dining room with tall walnut wainscoting that matched the glossy dark floors. Just above the wainscoting, the walls were a lovely candlelight yellow. Connected by a fancy ceiling medallion, a glorious chandelier hung over a long mahogany Chippendale table with ten chairs that could easily seat fourteen guests. A large oil portrait of horsemen in red coats ready for the hunt hung over a long buffet on one side of the room,and four smaller paintings of a horse in various stages of a jump were on the opposite wall.
    An older woman, maybe in her sixties, ran her hand over the tablecloth. She was pretty, with a heart-shaped face the color of black coffee. Striking amber-colored eyes scrutinized fine china bowls scattered across the table full of mashed potatoes, field peas, fried okra, creamed corn. A silver butter dish and a tray of biscuits were the centerpiece. At the head of the table, a beautiful roast beef was swimming in gravy. And, after not having an appetite for days, I was suddenly hungry.
    “Dinner looks delicious,” I said, making Cora May smile.
    “You have one of Cora May’s biscuits,” Katie said, pushing her wheelchair up to the table. “You’ll think you’ve died and gone to heaven.” She pulled into an empty space and transferred herself to the dining chair on her right, glancing back at the chair, a silent command for Remmy to wheel it away.
    “Aw, Miss Katie, how you do go on. But everybody knows it ain’t my biscuits that’ll take you to the back side of heaven’s gate; it’s my cornbread. For sure.”
    “I can attest to that,” Remmy said, holding my chair.
    “Thank you,” I said, ignoring that his hands lingered on my chair for a moment before he pushed Katie closer to the table.
    “Won’t you stay and eat a bite, Cora May?” he asked.
    “Thank you, Remmy, but I best get on home. Darnell will be wanting his supper.”
    “Everything’s wonderful, Cora May. We’ll take it from here. Thank you very much,” Remmy said, sitting down and placing his napkin in his lap.
    The woman nodded and gave his shoulder a squeeze, then Katie’s.
    “Love you,” Katie said.
    “Love you too, babies,” Cora May said, taking one last look at the table.
    Remmy served the roast beef and the bowls were passed around. While Cora May’s biscuits were indeed heavenly, they weren’t as good as my mother’s or my grandmothers’ back home.
    “I’m so glad you stayed, Nettie. It’s so nice to have another girl in the house.” Katie smirked, as she heaped her plate with friend okra.
    “What are you talking about? Between you and Cora May, I’m outnumbered,” Remmy drawled, passing the peas