PI On A Hot Tin Roof

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Authors: Julie Smith
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called her Eddie. She wasn’t crazy about appropriating her boss’s name.
    She went down to the kitchen and found grits, eggs, and bacon, which ought to substitute nicely for boudin, and some bread for toast. She made more coffee and offered some to Adele, who was working at her kitchen office.
    Absently, the older woman accepted a cup and then turned back to her checkbook, which she appeared to be balancing. “Those two!” she said, shaking her head and looking at her watch.
    Suzanne came down first, now wearing a hint of makeup. She poured herself a cup of coffee as Talba started the eggs. “’Lo, Mama Dell. I heard that. We only sleep late to avoid the Whore of Babylon.”
    Whoo,
Talba thought.
    “She already gone, by the way?”
    “I presume,” Adele said, “you aren’t talking about your sister-in-law.”
    “My, uh—oh, Luce. Somehow I don’t think of her that way. More like a niece.”
    “In that case, Kristin, who I find a very lovely young woman, has gone to work. You’ve heard of work, right?”
    “Hey, Royce,” Suzanne yelled, “coast is clear!” She turned back to Adele. “If you don’t think what I do is work, maybe you should come with me sometime. See what a difference feng shui can make in a house.”
    “My family’s lived in this house for twenty-two years. We like it like it is, thanks.”
    Royce joined them, actually smelling fresh and soapy, his wet hair slicked down, a loose shirt covering his torso, the same old ripped shorts tickling his knees, beat-up running shoes on his feet. He gave Adele a kiss. “Mornin’, Granny Goose.”
    She gave him a swat, the first sign of affection Talba’d seen in any of these people. “Mommo to you, young man. Tell your wife to button her lip about Kristin—she’s probably gon’ be your stepmother.”
    Talba, who was now serving the eggs, looked up to see Royce roll his eyes. “Now isn’t that just charmin’.”
    Adele, sitting in one of those desk chairs that spins on command, executed a one-eighty, so that she faced the starving masses. “You two need an attitude adjustment. You are here as guests of your father and me. If you do not learn to accommodate your father’s wife, I can’t be responsible for what he might do. She’ll move in, and neither one of us will tolerate unnecessary strife in Lucy’s life. Lucy loves the girl and she needs a female role model the worst kind of way.”
    Talba cut her eyes at Suzanne, who hadn’t missed the fact that she was the target of Adele’s barb. Her fresh rosiness had become a red-hot flush.
    “Aren’t we jumping the gun, Mommo?” Royce said. “They’re not even engaged.”
    “How stupid can you be, Royce? Hear this: They soon will be. And you are gon’ have to adjust to it.” She rose and left the room.
    “Oh, hell,” Royce said. “Forget breakfast. I’m going to work.”
    Suzanne shrugged. “This is delicious. Alberta cooks her eggs too hard.”

Chapter 5
    Fortunately, no one but Adele wanted lunch that day, and taking pity on the new kid, she made herself a tuna fish sandwich. The afternoon was running, running, running—five loads of laundry, eight sheets and sixteen pillowcases to iron, beds to make, bathrooms to clean. Talba had to stay till well past four—and then well past five—to feel she’d done a good enough job to warrant a second day. She had only a moment to snoop, and that was in Buddy’s night table, where she found a vial of Viagra, a box of condoms, an excellent collection of sex toys, and a gun nestled amid the happy clutter of true love. Buddy came home shortly before she left and went upstairs with a curt nod. She was just walking out the door when she heard him roar, “Can’t anyone take a crap around here?”
    Good timing,
she thought, and closed the door behind her.
    At home, Miz Clara was dozing in her rocking chair, wearing her old blue slippers and no wig. “You look like death warmed over.”
    “Mama, I’m in no mood. I’ve got to go lie

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