Free Cat's Eyewitness by Rita Mae Brown

turn out. One good thing our legislature did was pass that Farm Wineries Act in 1990, which taxes wineries like farms, not like commercial businesses. That shows some foresight. But for now I’ll stick to hay and timber.”
    “What about ginseng?” Big Mim kept up with the agricultural market.
    “Down by the creek I might could grow some.” Harry looked around the room. “You know, here I am talking about myself and my little world. I’m lucky you put up with me. I’m even luckier that you all help me.”
    “Harry, we’re all family here.” Miranda meant that. “We circle the wagons when we need to do so.”
    “Or open them up.” Little Mim’s face was flushed.
    “Yes?” Big Mim pushed her glasses down on her nose, looking over the top.
    “Nothing, Mother, just adding to the conversation.” Little Mim didn’t fib; she was merely withholding the major news that Blair Bainbridge had proposed to her after Thanksgiving dinner. As her mother and father were herding the guests toward what Big Mim referred to as the “just desserts room,” Blair had taken her by the hand and trotted her to the den. She thought the big question might be coming. She answered yes with blazing speed. They kissed, then joined the others, deciding to tell her mother and father in private when it seemed propitious.
    “Let’s see what the weather holds. If we’re going to climb the mountain we might as well make our plans now.” Alicia clicked on the large flat TV screen mounted on the wall in her den.
    “You can do that from here? From the living room?” Miranda was incredulous.
    Alicia held up a small remote. “I can turn on the radio, the TV, the security system, I can specify the rooms. Easy.”
    “She’s so high-tech.” BoomBoom was impressed. “I thought I was cutting edge, but Alicia is way ahead of me. Do you know she even had a computer built to her own specifications?”
    “Don’t be too impressed. Most of making a film is sitting in a chair trying not to wear off your makeup or crinkle your wardrobe. I had plenty of time to learn from the techies. I liked it.
    “Why don’t we take our tea into the den and see what the report is? Dessert, too, if anyone would like more.”
    Susan’s eyes fell on the brownies next to the small lemon-curd pastries. Lust filled her. “I can’t.”
    “Susan, honest to God, you make me miserable by denying yourself,” Harry complained.
    “I don’t deny myself enough.”
    They filed into the den, a large room painted lobster bisque with creamy white trim. History, military history, and natural-science books filled the shelves. Alicia, an avid reader, skipped through a book every two or three days. In Hollywood she’d kept her brains to herself, which only proved how very smart she was.
    The tail end of the news finished just as they found seats. The weather report came on.
    “Should be good tomorrow. Mid-forties. You never know.” Big Mim, like most residents of central Virginia, was continually surprised, even enchanted, by the changeable weather.
    The news returned after ads for carpet cleaner, aspirin, the Dodge Durango, and pet food.
    “Hey!” Harry shouted, which caused her pets to run into the room followed by Alicia’s steady, placid, and terribly handsome Gordon setter, Maxwell.
    A close-up of the Virgin Mary’s face, bloody tears still frozen, filled the screen. The camera pulled away to reveal the entire statue, with Nordy Elliott at the base, looking dapper in his navy winter coat, tan gloves, and red plaid cashmere scarf.
    “The monks discovered this unusual phenomenon Thanksgiving morning.” No brothers were in sight as Nordy spoke, great puffs of air coming from his mouth like cartoon captions. “At this point no one can say just what is happening, but it appears the statue is crying tears of blood.”
    As he continued, the women erupted, all talking at once.
    “Hear, hear.” Big Mim finally called them to order.
    “Liar!” Harry’s cheeks burned.