store. They shopped up a storm at both Bon Bon and Fais Dough Dough, grabbing many of Maggie’s souvenirs as well as Lia’s treats. While they loaded up their baskets, Maggie filled Lia in on the horror that was the Clabbers.
“What did you do when he said breakfast was ‘predictable’?”
“I responded politely and then spent the rest of breakfast fantasizing about putting my grapefruit knife in just the right position so that if someone ‘accidentally’ tripped Hal Clabber, he’d be impaled by it.”
Lia laughed. “Oh, it’s gonna be a long week. I think you could use some ice cream.”
“We all could. I’ll take a gallon of Brown Sugar. It’ll go great with Mom’s Bananas Foster tonight.”
Lia tried to press the ice cream on Maggie as a gift, but Maggie insisted on paying her cousin for it. Then she and the Cuties drove home as quickly as possible. Rain was certain to come by afternoon or evening, and she hoped the summer storm wouldn’t bring with it a power outage. The Crozats had a backup generator that kicked in pretty quickly, but there was always that transitional moment when guests panicked.
Maggie and Gran’ spent the afternoon helping Ninette prep for dinner and sharing notes about the week’s guests. All three agreed that the Clabbers were awful, the Ryker kids cute, the Butlers bland, the Cuties entertaining, and Georgias One through Three harmless.
“For my money, the most interesting guest in this lot is the handsome Mr. Bruner,” Gran’ said. “He’s quite refreshing for a Texan.”
“What does that mean?” Ninette asked as she put a pot of water up to boil.
“He doesn’t wear cowboy boots, which even the most sedentary of his fellow statesmen insist on tromping around in. And so many of the Texans who come here can’t stop bloviating about how great their state is. Remember that one man? Every time you put out a flower or a piece of fruit, he would say something like, ‘We have roses the size of your head in Texas.’ Or ‘I once grew a cucumber that was as big as a basketball player’s forearm.’ That was my favorite. I wanted to say, ‘Do you live in a state or a nuclear testing site?’”
The others couldn’t help but laugh at this. “I’ll tell you one thing, though,” Gran’ continued. “He’s got a story, that Kyle. Good looking, obviously successful—he had one of those high-end credit cards, didn’t he, Ninette?”
“That’s nobody’s business, Charlotte,” Ninette chastised.
“Well, he did, I saw it. But no wife, no family? And he didn’t set off my gaydar. Trust me, there’s a story.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows. “You know about ‘gaydar’?”
“I doff my cap to the Internet.”
Maggie excused herself from dinner prep to set the table. At five, the guests assembled for happy hour. Tug mixed Sazeracs, and Kyle once again helped serve.
“Oooh, milady would love a refill,” piped up Beverly Clabber, who was buzzing from the first round Maggie had delivered to her mere moments before. She gave her husband a flirtatious poke in the ribs. “What about you, milord?” Hal Clabber grunted what sounded like a yes.
“At the rate those two are inhaling food and beverage, we’ll be lucky if we break even on them,” Maggie muttered to her father as he mixed the couple’s second round. He put a finger to his lips, simultaneously shushing her and suppressing a smile.
Ninette stuck her head in from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”
A loud clap of thunder startled everyone, and then the skies opened. Rain poured down outside and was hurled against the house by wind gusts. The lights flickered for a moment but then regained their power.
“Fantastic,” Cutie president Jan enthused. “Nothing like a Cajun Country summer storm.”
Fortunately, despite the initial noisy thunderclap, the storm wasn’t as close as it seemed, although Maggie could tell it was heading their way. As they dined, the guests filled each other in on their
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley