kitchen.” Mrs. Place leaned forward to struggle out of the chair. “We can talk while we eat. I saved a peach pie for our desert.”
Mrs. Place sliced a plate of tomatoes and cucumbers and, after they each had a chicken leg on their plates, began talking.
Chapter Forty-Two
“Well, tell you the truth, it was me what got your father coming over here,”
Mrs. Place began. “I guess you could say I set my bonnet for him, but I don’t mean that I planned for it to happen. Not in the beginning, anyway. He was in Carlton, on one of them buying trips of his, and I was there having myself a vacation.” She stopped to chew, swallow, and take a drink of water. “I used to do
that when I was younger. Had to get out of here once in a while. I was in one of
the hotels, having myself a drink, and there he was. I was already seated in the
dining room when he came down for his supper. I guess my face looked familiar,
but I’m pretty sure he hadn’t worked out exactly who I was. If he had, he wouldn’t never have offered me his company.” She paused again to eat.
Olivia delved into her own childhood recollections. Carlton. She vaguely
remembered her father and Avis talking about a place called Carlton where he used to go for merchandise, but didn’t any more because it was far enough away
that he’d had to stay overnight. Olivia only remembered him going to Hillsong
or Erie. He’d be up before sunrise and come back late the same night. Once, a
few years ago, he’d taken Avis with him to Philadelphia and stayed over two nights. But Carlton . . .
“He’d already sat down before he noticed the glass of whiskey in front of
me,” Mrs. Place continued. “Once he did, he got this puzzled look on his face,
trying to figure out who this strange, liquor-guzzling woman was. He never
came into the bakery, you know. It was always you children came for the bread
and pies.” She swallowed another bite of her meal and wiped her mouth with her
napkin. “Course, he’d seen me in his own store often enough, especially after he
started selling my pies. I could see it slowly dawning on him. I was that woman
none of the ladies invited into their parlors. He started fidgeting and looking over
his shoulder, but he was too much of a gentleman to get up and leave. We got to
talking and after a while he relaxed and ordered a whiskey for himself. We had
our supper together and then another whiskey. I don’t remember what we found
to talk about and I couldn’t say how much laughing went on, but he made
himself pleasant and I was more than glad for the company. He wasn’t a
handsome man, your father …” Her eyes glazed over. “But he had a certain
stuffy charm about him. And he always tried to do what he thought was the right
thing. That’s something to admire in a man.” She looked into Olivia’s face.
“I don’t remember him ever going to Carlton,” Olivia said, careful to keep her
voice neutral. “So you meeting up with him there – that must have been a long
time ago. When my mother was still alive.” She didn’t know what she felt.
Numb. She had grown up knowing about Mrs. Place, but had never considered
the possibility that it had begun before her mother’s death. A poor widower finding some consolation with an unmarried woman was one thing, but a
married man sneaking off and lying to his wife?
Mrs. Place looked up and studied Olivia. “Honey, Seborn adored your
mamma, like no man ever loved a woman. Never did care for me anything like
that. Not the least little bit. But when a man’s married to a woman who’s not right in ... I mean has problems like your mamma –”
“My mother was not crazy!” Olivia pushed her chair back and grasped the
