Free Poisoned Petals by Joyce Lavene, Jim Page A

animals. Your parents have animals. We’ll be fine.”
    She smiled up at him with misty eyes. “Have I told you lately how wonderful you are?”
    “I think I may have heard it earlier, but you can go into more detail when you get back.” He kissed her and handed her his car keys. “My Vue is behind your truck. You’ll just have to pollute the atmosphere a little.”
    They walked to the front door together. Peggy opened it to her parents’ excited faces. Aunt Mayfield and Cousin Melvin stood close behind them, grinning widely. “Mom, Dad,” Peggy started, “Aunt Mayfield, Cousin Melvin, I want you to meet Steve Newsome. Steve, this is my family. At least part of it. My mother, Lilla Cranshaw Hughes. My father, Ranson Hughes. My aunt, Mayfield Browning Cranshaw, and my second cousin, Melvin Hughes.”
    Her parents’ excitement faded as she kissed them, then ran toward Steve’s green Saturn Vue. “Margaret?” her father yelled “Where are you going?”
    “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m sorry to leave like this,” Peggy yelled back to them. “I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to.”
    Steve opened the heavy wood door wider. “Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Hughes, Mrs. Cranshaw. It’s so good to meet all of you. Lunch is ready. Peggy should be back soon. Maybe you’d like come inside and freshen up before we eat.”
    Peggy’s relatives watched as she backed the Saturn onto Queens Road and sped off with a squeal of Steve’s new tires. “Where is she off to?” Lilla Hughes demanded.
    “A friend of hers was taken to the hospital. She’s going to check on him,” Steve explained.
    Peggy’s mother moved regally past Steve and into the house, trailed by Aunt Mayfield and Cousin Melvin. “She could have waited a few minutes! A good hostess wouldn’t leave her guests standing at the door with a stranger!”
    “He’s not a stranger, Mama,” Ranson Hughes proclaimed. “This is Steve, Margaret’s beau. Right?”
    “That’s right, Mr. Hughes.” Steve gratefully shook the older man’s hand.
    “Call me Ranson. We don’t stand on much formality.” He nodded toward his wife’s back. “Well, I don’t anyway. So Margaret tells me you’re a veterinarian, huh? Ever birth a hog?”
    “Not yet,” Steve admitted. “But I delivered a potbellied pig once.”
    “Close enough.” Ranson slapped him on the back. “We have plenty to talk about over lunch.”
     
PEGGY PULLED INTO THE PRESBYTERIAN Hospital emergency parking lot and locked the Saturn Vue before she rushed up to the door. This whole thing was probably too much for Luther. He’d been ill for such a long time. It was probably stupid to think he could fill in for Darmus on the spur of the moment. Not that she’d been much help.
    “I’m looking for Luther Appleby.” Peggy looked at the papers on the hospital desk. “He was brought in a short while ago.”
    The emergency room was packed. Apparently, there was a bus accident on North Tryon. The casualties had spilled over from Carolinas Medical Center to Presbyterian. People with blood on their clothing were trying to find out what had happened to their loved ones. A Hispanic interpreter raced from one person to another taking names and information.
    “We’re very busy.” The woman at the desk moved the papers into a folder. “Take a seat. We’ll get to you when we can.”
    “I’m fine. I just want to know what happened to my friend.”
    “We only allow family members to see patients down here. You’ll have to wait until your friend is sent upstairs. Call the hospital switchboard and ask about his condition.”
    Peggy thanked her and reluctantly took a seat on one of the orange vinyl chairs. A team of nurses and doctors began to sort through the patients from the bus accident. A young woman sitting beside her jiggled a crying baby. She asked the nurse at the desk for help, received the same answer Peggy did, then came back and sat down again.
    Peggy was anxious about Luther, but