Town In a Lobster Stew Read Online Free PDF Page A

think. But the affair ended that morning.” Wilma Mae gave Candy a grave expression. “I didn’t care much for her. None of us did. She was a snooty socialite up from Boston, and she could be quite cruel and condescending to the help. Her husband made his money in timber and land speculation before and during the war. She traveled without him quite often, which made sense, since she was nearly twenty years younger than he was. And she was probably thirty years younger than Cornelius. She’d been meeting him at the Lodge for several years, or so I heard. But that morning she was so upset at him for ruining her morning dress with the ketchup that she told him off, right then and there, in no uncertain terms, and stomped out of the room in a huff, with her boa flying!”
    Candy laughed. “That must have been quite a scene.”
    “Oh, it was!” Wilma Mae said, her eyes lighting up. “She checked out of the hotel that very morning and, as far as I know, never saw him again. It caused quite a bit of scandal, but more importantly, Cornelius was without a mistress for the rest of the week.” Wilma Mae paused and blinked several times. “So . . . ”
    “So . . . ?” prompted Candy.
    Wilma Mae cleared her throat. “So, naturally, Cornelius needed companionship for the rest of his stay.” She hesitated, and when she spoke again, her voice was hushed, almost a whisper. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but I became his companion.”
    Candy’s eyes widened in surprise. “His companion? You don’t mean . . . ”
    “Oh yes, it’s true,” said Wilma Mae with a firm nod of her head. “I was deflowered by none other than Cornelius Roberts Pruitt!”

THREE

    Wilma Mae’s blush returned, but this time she paid it no attention. “I suppose you might think I was some sort of hussy, but I can tell you I was not. I was an innocent girl, still a virgin at the time. I knew nothing of the ways of the world. But Cornelius did. He was a very charismatic man, with an air of confidence and power that was, well, intoxicating to someone like me.” She added in a whispery voice, as if sharing a secret, “And he had lots of money!”
    She laughed sweetly and pointed to an aged black-and-white photograph in an ornate gold frame that sat among many others on the dark mahogany side table against the wall. “That’s him there,” she said, then added thoughtfully, “His nose was a bit crooked and his teeth were yellow, but he had lovely hands and beautiful eyes. And he smelled good.”
    Candy rose from where she sat on the sofa and crossed the room to the table. She stooped and peered intently at the photograph Wilma Mae had pointed out. It showed a tall, dark-featured man standing on a sloping lawn in the midst of a large gathering of people assembled for a group portrait. The women in the photograph wore crisp white dresses and wide-brimmed hats adorned with ribbons. They sat in chairs, while most of the men stood behind them, many with their hands thrust deep in their coat pockets. The man at the center of the photograph wore a casually tailored light-colored linen suit, a wide tie, and a straw hat tilted at a jaunty angle. He was gazing off into the distance, an enigmatic smile frozen on his tanned, leathery face. Behind him rose the columns of an elegant yet rustic structure, with striped awnings and a dark roof, and beyond that a blustery sky. Candy could see several staff members standing on the porch behind the main group or looking out of the building’s upper windows, half-hidden in the shadows.
    “That’s most of the family there, taken on an earlier trip to the Lodge,” Wilma Mae continued. “Cornelius, of course, is standing at the center. The young girl to his right with the pretty smile is Helen. I’m standing behind them on the porch. You can just see me there, partially in shadow. I’m the skinny one in the white apron with her hands down at her sides.”
    Candy looked closer. “There you are.