Read Online Miss Julia Stirs Up Trouble: A Novel by Ann B. Ross - Free Book Online Page A

doesn’t give his name or say what he wants. He just hangs up when she says you aren’t here.”
    “Wonder who it could be?”
    “Probably a salesman or somebody wanting a donation. I just thought you should know.”
    “Well, don’t tell him anything,” she said with asperity. “I don’t need anybody else wanting something from me.” Then she giggled. “I might throw that milk carton I got out of the trash at whoever wants another thing. And I mean when James gets through with it, too.”

    “Lord, Lillian,” I said, after hanging up the phone. “To think that just a couple of days ago, I was feeling that all was right with the world. Everybody was happy and settled and getting on with life and . . .” I stopped, put my hand to my mouth and reconsidered. “Well, I guess I wasn’t thinking of those poor souls who’ve had tornadoes, wildfires, hurricanes, floods, wars, lost jobs, and foreclosures. And fairly soon, there’ll be snow and sleet and power outages and who knows what else. When you think of all that, it doesn’t look as if anything, anywhere, is going right. It’s just chaos everywhere you look.”
    “Yes’m, but that’s livin’, Miss Julia. Ever’body have to get they enjoys where they can, when they can. Besides, James’ll get well, Mr. Pickens’ll be back home, an’ the babies’ll grow up. Nothin’ last forever. Least, when you think of all them other things, I hope they don’t.”
    “That’s one way to look at it, I guess. Everything—good or bad—will pass sooner or later.” I stopped and studied the matter for a minute. “Somehow or another—I don’t know why—that doesn’t seem very comforting.”
    “But the Reverend Abernathy say it do. He tell us we live in a transitory world, then he tell us what that mean. It mean something that don’t last long, an’ we got to take a overview. Which mean lookin’ over what happen here an’ countin’ on what happen hereafter.”
    “Lillian, that is the most comforting thing you could’ve said. The reverend is absolutely right, and when things start going wrong we need to be reminded of it. At least
I
do.” I sat down at the table and rested my head on my hand. “I declare, I wish Pastor Ledbetter would take some lessons from him. It’s our annual pledge time—the Every Member Canvass—and all we hear is how we should be tithing and giving over and above. Then next Sunday one of the elders will tell us how badly we need a youth director, and the Sunday after that a deacon will tell us that the church furnace is acting up. I think I might start going to your church.”
    “You jus’ come on anytime,” Lillian said with a little smile. “We be glad to have you. But you might get a little of the same kind of preachin’ now an’ then, ’cause the Reverend Abernathy say the Lord don’t pay no ’lectric bills.”
    “That’s true,” I said as we laughed together. “Well, I guess I’d better get up from here and try to line up a few more cooks for Hazel Marie. Sam will be up in a little while, and I expect James will be glad to see him. He’s been sitting in that chair all day.”
    “I ’spect he been sleepin’ in it, too. He can nod off jus’ settin’ in a straight chair, so you don’t need to feel sorry for him. I jus’ hope this the last night Mr. Sam have to spend over there.”
    Saying, “I do, too,” on my way out, I headed for the new library, where my folder and calendar were, thinking as I went about who I should call next.
    Etta Mae, I decided, because her work hours were somewhat erratic and I wanted her to have a choice of days before they filled up—if they filled up. I was somewhat skeptical of her cooking skills, knowing that she patronized McDonald’s an inordinate number of times each week, but I couldn’t leave her recipes out of Hazel Marie’s book. The two women had known each other too long and I myself owed Etta Mae the courtesy of being included and much more than that, if the