Read Online The Vigil by Marian P. Merritt - Free Book Online

his house. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I’d agreed to have dinner with Beau, his son, and his grandmother.
    His grandmother would be the right age. Maybe she’d know who Lady S could be. I’d have to be careful with how I asked. But maybe, just maybe, she’d know. It was worth the effort.
    Now that I’d decided to find Lady S, I plowed forward like a bulldozer. If the letters calmed Carlton, then maybe her presence would do much more. And maybe he could leave this earth with a clear conscience. Not that I knew he didn’t—have a clear conscience, that is—but judging from his actions and words, I suspected something deep within him needed to release. And that something had everything to do with Lady S.
    When I reached the top of the driveway, I saw Beau’s black Chevy pickup parked next to the garage. Beau, in faded jeans and a green polo shirt, stood waiting at the front door. “Hello, I’m glad you could come.” His smiled widened. “Shrimp boulettes with white beans and rice.”
    “Sounds great.” My willpower skills for eating in moderation would have to kick into overdrive tonight. “Thanks for inviting me.”
    His grandmother approached. She was dressed in a flowered silk dress, tall and elegant even at eighty. The scent of fried seafood and gardenias accompanied her. “Cheryl, Cheryl Broussard. I didn’t know you came back home. I don’t get around town as much as I used to.” Her slender arms wrapped around my shoulders. She pulled me close, and her red lips kissed the air next to my cheek. “I’m glad you could have suppa with us tonight.” She strolled toward the kitchen. “Food is ready when y’all are.”
    Beau leaned into the adjoining living room. “Steven, turn the TV off and get in here.”
    I followed Mrs. Mouton into the kitchen and waited by the table. Beau walked in moments later led by a lanky kid with the same chocolate brown eyes and thick, coffee colored hair.
    He placed his hands on Steven’s shoulders. “Cheryl, I’d like you to meet my son, Steven. Miss Cheryl and I went to school together. She’s been a friend for a long time.”
    The lingering sent of fried shrimp boulettes hung in the air like our past. Steven’s likeness to Beau took me back to our younger years. I extended my hand. “Hello, Steven. It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve known your dad since he was about your age.”
    He shook my hand with a firm grip.
    “And he looked just like you.”
    Steven turned to Beau. “Really? You looked like me?”
    “It’s more like you look like I did. C’mon. Let’s get our food. Nana’s ready to eat.”
    Steven reached for a plate and handed it to me. “Here ya go, Miss Cheryl. You can tell me more about dad while we eat.”
    “Sure thing.”
    We served our plates at the stove and met at the dining room table. The white molding on the charcoal walls gave the room a regal look, not unlike its owner. Mrs. Mouton’s silver bun gathered at the nape of her neck showcased her dangling pearl and diamond earrings. She sat at the head of the table, posture upright, and her head level above her shoulders with her sharp green eyes settled on Beau. “How is Annie today?” she asked.
    Had she asked the question to remind me Beau was married? Beau remained Beau and didn’t let her rouse him. “I called before I came here. She’s the same. No change.”
    I hung my head. Maybe this had not been a good idea. “Are you still involved in the Junior League?” I asked remembering she’d headed up their cookbook committee for many years.
    She shook her head. “No. Gave that up about a year ago. Don’t like driving to Lafayette.”
    Steven snickered. “Especially, since you backed into the garage door. Remember that, Nana?”
    She turned to him and smiled. “I remember.” Then she turned back to me.
    I racked my brain in search of other things she’d been involved in when we were in high school, but I couldn’t remember anything. I squirmed under