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suite up there! With sun decks and a fountain and their very own miniature Peabody coop.”
    All the talk of duck palaces and duckmasters irritated Rebecca. “And hordes of people line up with cameras and push and shove to see the ducks. And they play Sousa.” She heaved a rather tortured sigh. “But I definitely need a drink. Let’s head out.”
    Sara’s nephew, Derrick, who’d been trying to look cool and listen in on the conversation at the same time, asked, “Is it okay if I come along too, Flo?”
    Flo called Lulu over. Since Sara was out helping Susan with the show, and Ben had his hands full of dry rub, Lulu would have to stand in for the parental oversight.
    “To a bar? What are you thinking, young man?”
    “It’s just the Peabody.” Derrick shrugged. “I thought I’d go see the ducks and hang out with the Graces for a while.”
    Flo said, “If he wants to come along, I’ll keep an eye on him, Lulu.”
    Lulu figured Derrick was happy to be anywhere but home. He’d shown every indication of being completely miserable since moving to Memphis from Chicago and seemed determined to infect everybody else with his suffering. Lulu got it—he’d rather be with his mom, Sara’s sister, in Chicago. Too bad his mom didn’t agree with him.
    “Okay,” Lulu said. “But only for a little while. Then you can still drive over to the church and make it to Youth Group.”
    This time Derrick didn’t make the face he usually made whenever Youth Group was invoked. Although his manners weren’t well developed, he had an unerring instinct for getting his way. In his estimation, a blatant show of cooperation would engender more goodwill than his customary churlishness.
    “Sounds like a plan, Lulu. Thanks, Flo,” Derrick added meekly.
    Flo looked over at Big Ben, Buddy, and Morty, the three old regulars who were still trying to listen in on their conversation—Big Ben quite obviously, since he had his hand cupped around his ear. “Want to come along?” she hollered at him.
    “Do what?”
    “Want to come along to the Peabody bar with the ladies? We’re going to hang out with Miss Adrian and Tony for a while.”
    Big Ben gave his rasping chuckle again. Buddy answered for them all, “No thanks, honey. Y’all go ahead and have fun though.” As he and Big Ben watched them go, Buddy said, “I think our days of hanging out in hotel bars are done, don’t you?”
    Morty smiled. He looked for all the world like a black version of Mr. Clean—even down to the earring. Except that Morty always had a twinkle in his eye. And now a dreamy, contemplative look stole over his features that meant he was going to tell a tall tale. “Remember back in the day? We really did some traveling with the band, man. And a pretty lady in every hotel bar in every town we played.”
    Buddy snorted. “Traveling? We stayed mostly in Memphis, remember? And when we did travel, the dumps we stayed in didn’t have bars. And I sure don’t remember any pretty ladies.”
    “Emmaline. I remember Emmaline with her pretty braid.” Lulu rushed by, and Morty pushed up from the table. “Think I’ll go tell Lulu about Emmaline. She always likes my stories.” He wandered off toward the counter at the back of the restaurant.
    Buddy sighed. “Thinking about the old days and being young makes me want to sing the blues.”
    “But we always sing the blues, Buddy,” boomed Big Ben.
    “Maybe that’s why we’re usually happy.”
    Big Ben changed the subject. Or maybe he couldn’t actually hear the subject. He barked, “So whatcha going to do now, Buddy? Got any plans?”
    “Well, it’s almost five o’clock now. I’m thinking about sitting on my front porch and waving at cars for a while.”
    “That so?” Big Ben considered this, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully with a big hand. “That might be enjoyable. Better than my plan, anyhow. Mind some company?”
    “Feel free,” said Buddy.
    “Might there be a beverage of some kind offered?” Big