Clarabel nodded sagely. “She’s Miss Bernice’s client. I saw on the appointment sheet that she’s down for a perm.”
“This is Marie.” Kirsten gestured toward a dark-haired young woman with a shy demeanor. “She’s a stay-at-home mother with beautiful three-year-old twins.”
“Oh my, that must keep you busy!”
“You have no idea,” Marie said, shaking my hand.
“This is Freret.” Kirsten gestured to a tall woman about my age with dark, chin-length hair, who looked chic in skinny jeans and a safari-style top. “She’s the chief loan officer at the bank, which makes her a very handy person to know.” Kirsten put her hand on the arm of another brunette, with a friendly smile, curly hair, and red lipstick. “And this is Jen. She’s the librarian.”
Jen gave a wide smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
I could feel my face heat. “I can’t imagine how.”
“Well, this is a small town.”
I was also introduced to a friendly-faced woman named Blythe who worked at the coffee shop part-time, as well as a high school student who helped out on weekends. Kirsten clapped her hands together. “All right, ladies—let’s get going!”
Everyone except Blythe and the teenager trooped out and piled into Marie’s red minivan.
“I heard you’re doing a mural for Matt’s daughters’ room,” Aimee said, settling next to me in the center seat of the second row for the fifteen-minute drive to the nature preserve.
I nodded.
“Oh, my—that Matt is a dream cake.” Clarabel fanned herself as if she were having a hot flash. “If I were ten years younger, I’d make a play for him in a New York minute.”
“Just ten years younger?” teased Kirsten.
Clarabel rolled her eyes. “Well, ten years would put me in the game if he liked cougars.”
Everyone laughed.
“I don’t know how anyone could follow in Christine’s shoes,” said Marie.
“I’ve heard she was really something,” I commented.
“Something and a half,” Aimee said. “In high school, she was head cheerleader, valedictorian, and captain of the volleyball team.”
“Not to mention popular and sweet,” Freret sighed.
“You wanted to hate her, but you just couldn’t,” Kirsten added.
The women all laughed, their expressions wistful.
“You name it, and she not only did it, she did it beautifully and graciously and with magnificent style,” Aimee said. “She was a successful attorney, a wonderful mom, and drop-dead gorgeous to boot. Matt and she were just the cutest couple.”
The praise of the dead woman left me oddly jealous, which made me feel petty and small. “I’ve seen photos,” I said. “She looked like Kate Bosworth.”
The women nodded.
“Speaking of photos, your grandmother took my wedding pictures,” Marie said. “She was wonderful. She took lots of care to make everyone look great.”
“That’s what’s so special about her,” Jen added. “She sees the best in everyone.”
“I have three generations of Miss Addie pictures hanging on my wall,” Clarabel said. “My christening, my daughter’s christening, and my grandchildren’s christenings.”
My throat grew thick with emotion.
“How’s she doing?” Aimee asked.
