Free Going to the Chapel: A Novella by Rita Herron Page B

tasting.”
    “Well, honey, you’re in for a treat. Those girls can stir things up, but that Daisy is one fine cook. Even when she was a teenager, she gave me a run for my money at the county fair. My coconut cream pie won, but Daisy was close behind with her chocolate Kahlua cake.”
    “Both sound good,” he said, hoping for more information than a commentary on the woman’s culinary skills. “They’ve just recently opened this business and redone the chapel?”
    “Mercy, yes,” Lulabelle said. “The girls left here after the scandal at the Triple D. Heard they all got married but don’t know where their husbands are now.” She leaned closer. “Makes you wonder.”
    Levi bit into a biscuit. Small towns .
    A man in overalls waved her over for a coffee refill, and she waddled off. Behind him, he heard a bunch of blue hairs whispering.
    “You think that wedding shop’s gonna last?” one of them said.
    “Don’t know why city folks would wanna come all the way up here to get hitched.”
    “Those girls mean well,” a frail woman in a pink knit warm-up suit said. “But it won’t be long before trouble comes on their tails.”
    “What do you mean, comes on their tails?” a chubby woman with pin curls muttered. “They bring trouble wherever they go.”
    “Remember when Izzy ran her uncle’s truck into the bank that day?”
    He recognized that woman as Nellie Needlemyer—the author of the “Naughty in Matrimony” column.
    The woman in the pink knit suit hooted. “I never seen so many dollar bills flying. Kids were running everywhere trying to stick them in their pants.”
    “You know they caught Caroline screwing that rodeo star in the barn after the hog hollering contest,” Nellie whispered.
    “And Daisy nearly poisoned the supper club at the senior’s center.” This from a lady he’d heard called Uner Pinkerton. “The poor ladies were throwing up for days, dentures and wigs flying.”
    “Wonder why the girls came home at the same time,” the chubby lady said.
    A rail-thin lady with a gray bun leaned forward. “I wonder where their menfolk are.”
    “I heard Daisy’s husband is dead,” another said.
    Levi stiffened. Was he?
    Several women gasped. “You think she killed him like her mama killed Waylin?”
    “Who knows? Although Daisy was the sweet one. It’s that Izzy that was the sneaky one. You know she intentionally ran into the bank because she was trying to hit Moon.”
    Levi tugged at his collar. Moon?
    “That’s right.” Nellie tittered. “When she was just fourteen, she and Sybil’s son made out at the river, but Moon spread it all over school how he got to third base. Izzy was furious and came after him with her uncle’s truck. Then she told everyone that he had a little . . . you know what.”
    Another woman they called Myrtle held her hand up to her ear. “A what?”
    “You know.” Uner leaned closer. “His man part.”
    “A man farts?” Myrtle said. “Royce used to fart every time he peed. He said all men did it.”
    “We aren’t talking about farts,” Uner said. “She means his penis.”
    Myrtle shrugged. “No, I don’t want any peanuts.”
    “Oh, good grief, Myrtle,” Nellie said. “Did you get that hearing aid from the thrift store?”
    Another woman jumped in. “Izzy sure had a way of getting back at the boys who messed with her. Remember when she glued Willie Grace’s husband’s toupee to their son Rodney’s head when he fell asleep in algebra? They practically had to skin that boy’s head to get it off.”
    The other women laughed, but Levi removed his wallet to pay the bill. Good grief. Izzy was dangerous and devious.
    He waited to see if the women said more, but a gray-haired gentleman approached, and the group started fussing with their hair and giggling like teenagers.
    Levi dropped some cash on the table for Lulabelle, then walked outside and punched Elsa’s number. “Talk to Izzy’s neighbors and friends,” Levi said as he sat down