Feeding the Fire: A Rosewood Novel

by Andrea Laurence

  “I finally got the flowers situated inside. I’m near outta breath.” Miss Francine ran her hand over her immaculately styled red-gold hair. “There were quite a few arrangements for this one. I’m pleased.”

  Dotty chuckled. “Not as pleased as Vera is.”

  “The body is barely cold,” Miss Francine muttered, looking at Miss Vera with a sour expression drawing down her withered lips.

  “It’s not like Bert and Estelle were serious. At the most, they were together a week. What do you say the proper waiting period is for something like this?”

  Grant heard Miss Francine groan and he felt the same way. He wished this line would move faster. Hopefully once they reached the room with the family, this discussion would stop.

  “I don’t think Emily Post covered that topic in her etiquette books.”

  Saved at last, Blake and Simon arrived and joined him in line. “Thank God you’re here,” Grant said.

  “Afraid of seeing a dead body alone?” Simon taunted.

  “I’ve seen it. I responded to the call. I just need a distraction,” he said, gesturing discreetly to the trio of women in front of them.

  Blake briefly eyeballed the hens and nodded. “Everyone is talking about it. Even the ladies in the administration office this morning were going on about the salacious details.”

  Simon sighed. “I’m sorry someone had to die, but I’m thankful to have everyone talking about something else for a change. I’m tired of discussing the peeper case and how we haven’t caught him yet. People seem to think we should just be randomly arresting people.”

  “Any breaks?” Grant asked.

  Simon’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. It looked like a no, but he could tell it was a “yes, but I can’t tell you that.” Grant opted not to push the line of conversation since they were finally entering the visitation room.

  Estelle’s pearly-white coffin came into view at the far end of the room. The lower portion was closed and covered in a spray of pink and yellow carnations. Estelle’s family was gathered around it. Her oldest child, Robin, was unmarried and standing by herself just before the casket. Just past it was Robin’s brother and his wife with a restless four-year-old, but the feet between them could’ve been miles. Both her children were totally focused on the people coming in, not looking or even acknowledging each other. Apparently the familial battle over Estelle’s things had already begun.

  There were still about fifteen people ahead of them, so the brothers waited quietly for their turn. That’s when Grant saw Miss Francine lean over to Miss Vera and mutter under her breath, “. . . too cheap for roses . . . Perhaps if she hadn’t paid seven grand to get laid, they could afford a proper casket cover.”

  Grant winced and tried to focus on admiring the floral arrangements lining the wall. He nudged Blake when he came across one from their family. “These are ours,” he said. The large standing spray had white roses and lilies with a white bow. It was pretty enough. He wasn’t much of a connoisseur of flowers.

  “As much as I complain about the Chamberlains, at least they paid for a respectable spray,” Miss Francine continued as though three of them weren’t directly behind her. “It’s pretty sad when strangers are willing to pay more than the deceased’s own family.”

  “Francine!” Miss Vera chastised in a hoarse whisper.

  “It’s true. It’s Robin’s doing, I’m sure of it. Estelle bought a nice rose casket cover when Clyde died. Her daughter is just going through the motions, trying to squeeze every penny she can out of this. I bet you they have that bakery up for sale by the end of the week. Robin doesn’t want anything to do with it and neither does her brother. They just want the money. Once she gets it, I bet she’ll leave this town for good. You just wait.”

  That was something Grant hadn’t considered. His sister Maddie was Estelle’s only employee. The shop had been closed since Estelle’s death, but if it didn’t reopen, what would Maddie do? She’d just bought a house downtown near the bakery. She’d have to move back home if she didn’t pick up another baking job. The only other option in Rosewood was the grocery store bakery. Maddie would never, ever stand for that. She was French-trained and too good for the Piggly Wiggly, at least in her own eyes.

  “Maybe the Chamberlains will buy it and let their oldest girl run it. You know I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Maddie bakes a better lemon cake than Estelle ever did, bless her heart.” Moving up, Vera, Dotty, and Francine approached Robin, and a moment later, Grant and his brothers reached the family.

  He focused on giving his condolences to Robin, stopping by the body only long enough to keep from blocking someone taking a picture of Estelle. Once they were done, he moved quickly to her brother. They circled around the room and back out the door into the lobby. There, Grant took a relieved breath and started tugging down his tie.

  “Are you going to the funeral?” Blake asked once they stepped out into the parking lot.

  “No. I’ll be working until six.”

  “Lucky bastard,” Simon groaned. Apparently this was his day off and he had no excuses.

  “Quit complaining. The service will be short and when it’s over, they’re having a dinner at First Baptist. You’ll have enough fried chicken and banana pudding to make up for it.”

  Blake slapped Simon on the back. “The banana pudding is worth it. I hear Miss Vera is baking a batch from scratch. Based on what I just overheard, it seems like more of a celebratory gesture than a sympathetic one.”

  “I’m headed back to the firehouse to get out of this suit and let Mack come over here.”

  “Okay,” Blake said. “Can I call you later or will you be with Pepper?”

  Grant didn’t know where he would be. After spending nearly every moment of the previous week together, their return to work and new relationship navigation had everything up in the air. “I don’t know. Just call. If I can’t answer,” he said with a smile, “I won’t.”

  “I think Reverend Yates just broke a record for the shortest service in history.”

  Pepper turned to Ivy and tried not to smile. It didn’t seem appropriate since the pallbearers were carrying Estelle’s casket past them and out to the hearse. Aside from that, she was happy that Ivy was still in Rosewood and was able to attend this with her. She wasn’t ready to sit next to her family and pretend like things hadn’t changed. There was no way she could sit with her parents and her brother and not spend every moment thinking about what her mother had told her.

  Norman Chamberlain was sitting a few pews ahead of them with Helen, Simon, Maddie, and Hazel. She could only see the back of his head, but his cruel expression as he turned away and the conversation she’d had with her mother came easily to mind.

  She’d lain in bed Sunday night, not enjoying her fully functional bedroom but mentally envisioning the whole argument her mother had with him. She could picture the smug look on his face as he offered her mother a check and told her and their unborn child to get lost.

  At the moment, she had a hard time looking at any of the Chamberlains without dark thoughts clouding her mind. Even Blake and Grant, two Chamberlains she’d learned to not only tolerate but like, were hard for her to talk to. Suddenly being around the man she’d gotten close to the last few weeks had become infinitely more difficult. Grant valued honesty over all else, but she couldn’t tell him about this. She couldn’t tell Ivy.

  She couldn’t even tell Logan.

  Reverend Yates asked the congregation to join him in singing Estelle’s favorite hymn, “How Great Thou Art,” as the family shuffled sadly out of the chapel. Robin was tearful, clutching a tissue to her face. Her brother, Tom, held his toddler with a stoic expression. They went out and loaded into the limousine.

  “Yep,” Ivy said as the hymn ended and everyone stood to leave. “Twenty-three minutes.”

  “He’s probably hungry.” Pepper looked down at her watch. It was just after five in the evening. By the time the graveside service was over, it would be time for R
everend Yates to eat, take his pills, and head home to watch his favorite game shows before bed. Just knowing there was a feast of massive proportions in the little church by the cemetery was enough to make most southern men talk a little bit faster than usual.

  “I’m hungry, too. I didn’t eat all day in anticipation of the macaroni and cheese,” Pepper said as they shuffled out of the funeral home with the rest of the congregation. She slipped on her lined raincoat and popped open her umbrella the minute they cleared the protective awning. The herd moved out and across the street, gathering around the tent that protected the gravesite and the family from the elements.

  It was a miserable day for a funeral. It had rained on and off for the last few days with temperatures never getting out of the high forties. The sky was a blanket of gray, with the sun nowhere in sight. There was only a light breeze, but it was still enough to fling icy raindrops sideways and for the chill to sink in.

  Once everyone arrived and the family was seated, Reverend Yates started the service again. Considering it was dinnertime and the weather was poor, the pastor wasn’t likely to get a good sermon rolling.

  As he spoke, Pepper’s gaze strayed over the crowd. Her parents and brother were standing off to her left. Her father probably wasn’t strong enough to come to something like this, especially in this weather, but he was also stubborn. Logan was holding their father’s elbow with a tight grip to ensure he didn’t lose his footing on the lawn.

  Just beyond them were the Chamberlains. Pepper wondered if Logan knew they were standing right behind him. He wasn’t uncouth enough to say something at a funeral, but she knew there had to be animosity growing between them since he opened his practice. He’d probably like to know if the old snake was nearby.

  When Reverend Yates asked everyone to bow their head in prayer, she noticed that both Logan and Norman dipped their heads in just the same way. Their profiles were damn-near identical when you looked at them side by side. They had the same blue eyes, the same narrow nose, the same heavy brow, the same strong, square jaw. They were even almost the same height, with Logan just barely taller.

  She’d never noticed it before, but her brother had almost never been in the same room as Norman. Curious, her gaze flicked over to Blake where he stood beside Ivy. Comparing the two men, there was a resemblance there as well. Blake and Logan had the same hair color; a light brown with blond highlights from the sun. Norman’s hair was more gray than brown now, but his hair was just as thick with a hairline that had only slipped a few centimeters back from where it fell on Blake.

  Pepper felt her stomach turn. She searched Logan’s face, desperate to find differences between the two men. The full lips, the small, rounded ears . . . those were features Pepper shared with her brother. Features they shared with their mother.

  Glancing at their father, Vince, she tried to find resemblances there. Her father was shorter than Logan, with a slighter build.

  His nose was broad, his hair a darker brown.

  The more she studied, the more painfully obvious it became that Logan looked very little like their father. Nothing at all like him, actually.

  Her mother said she did what she had to do when Norman turned her away. Pepper had thought maybe she had given up the baby or terminated the pregnancy. It never once occurred to her that her mother had kept the baby and raised it as another man’s child.

  “Amen,” everyone said aloud, reminding Pepper that she’d forgotten to pray.

  Her mind was someplace else. The truth was all too obvious now. Logan was Norman Chamberlain’s son. She was certain of it. The bigger question in her mind was if her father knew. Did her mother throw herself in desperation at any man she could, pass off the child as his, and convince him to marry her? Daddy loved both her and Logan so much. It would kill him to know his son wasn’t his own blood. Could her mother really have lied to everyone like that?

  Someone starting singing “Amazing Grace.” Pepper had a vague recollection of the voice in the background, but that was all. All she could see was her daddy holding on to his son’s arm with misty tears in his eyes.

  Shaking her head, Pepper turned and her gaze locked with her mother’s. Without the slightest gesture or word, she saw her mother stiffen and visibly pale. Pepper nodded. She wanted her mother to know that she knew the truth.

  Please, she mouthed silently.

  Pepper could only turn away. Shifting her umbrella, she stared down at the ground and hoped she could just make it all go away. She gazed long and hard at the soggy brown turf, but it didn’t seem to help.

  “Pepper?”

  She snapped her head in the direction of the sound and found Ivy looking at her with a quizzical expression on her face.

  “What?”

  “Are you okay?” she asked with a crinkled nose.

  No, definitely not okay, but she couldn’t tell her that. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.” Apparently she was thinking hard enough not to notice that the service had ended and everyone was making their way over to the church.

  “Okay,” Ivy said, although there was a touch of disbelief on her face. “Are you going to come to the church to eat with us?”

  That had been the plan initially, but suddenly she needed to get far away from here. Far from her lying mother, her ignorant father, and the smug face of the man who caused it all. If she stayed, she would say or do something she would regret. That wasn’t how she wanted to honor Estelle’s memory.

  “Actually, I think I’m going to skip it and head home. I’m pretty tired.”

  Ivy watched her with concern for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.” She leaned forward to hug Pepper. “I’ll see you later. I’ll come by the shop tomorrow. I leave first thing Friday morning.”

  Pepper tried to give the friendliest nod she could and waved as Ivy and Blake disappeared into the Fellowship Hall with everyone else. Before anyone could talk to her, she bolted in the other direction, back toward the funeral home and her car. She needed some wine and a brownie and some time to process everything she’d just learned. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  Her brother was a Chamberlain.

  Chapter 13

  After an hour of mindless television and two stiff drinks, Pepper had finally achieved the mental numbness she desired.

  When she left the funeral, she’d gone home in the hopes of burying her head in the sand for a while. The whole town was at the church dinner, then probably staying on for Bible study since it was Wednesday night, so she anticipated a peaceful evening where she could process everything she’d pieced together this afternoon.

  She had a sibling who was half Chamberlain. Realizing that had nearly knocked her off her feet. Everything she knew about her childhood, her brother, her father . . . now it was all tinged with the color of deception.

  She was taking her last sip of coconut rum and Sprite when the doorbell rang. With a sigh, she got up from the couch and looked through the peephole. The only person she expected to see was Grant, straight from the end of his long shift, but she was disappointed. It was her mother.

  Pepper swung open the door and stood there, a stiff barrier to the house. She wasn’t really interested in talking about this tonight. She didn’t have nearly enough rum. “Mother,” she said, acknowledging her mother with a cold tone.

  Kate was standing alone on the porch, clutching a piece of cake wrapped in plastic wrap. “Hi, Pepper. I brought you a piece of cake.”

  She didn’t really feel like cake of any kind, but she accepted the plate anyway. “Thanks. Where’s Daddy?”

  “Logan took him home about halfway through the dinner. He got tired standing at the service for so long. I needed to stop at the grocery store, so they went on without me.”

  “The Pig is three blocks that way,” she said, pointing down the street.

  “Pepper, we need to talk,” she said.

  Pepper snorted and shook her head. “I’m not the one you need to talk to, Mama. I already know too much
for my own good. Logan is the one who needs to know the truth.”

  Kate swallowed hard. “Can I please come in?” As much as she didn’t want to, Pepper stepped back and let her mother into the house for the first time.

  Kate stepped in slowly, looking around the space with a small smile curling her lips. “Your house looks lovely. I love the warm color on the walls and the artwork is perfect. I can tell you’ve put a lot of hard work into the place.”

  “I have Grant to thank for most of it,” Pepper said, knowing that answer would just antagonize her mother.

  Kate lowered herself onto the couch with a sigh and patted the cushion beside her. “Sit down, please.”

  Pepper reluctantly did what she was told, keeping a full cushion’s distance between them. She faced her mother, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Somehow that protective pose made this discussion more palatable.

  “Today at the funeral,” Kate began. “It became apparent to me that you’ve pieced together the rest of my story.”

  Pepper nodded. “Is Logan really the child you were talking about on Sunday?”

  Kate’s dark eyes, the same as her own, looked at her for a moment before sadly nodding. “Yes. Your brother is half Chamberlain, genetically. But,” she added, “he is nothing like that miserable family.”

  “Stop it, Mama,” Pepper snapped. She was sick of her mother hating on the Chamberlains. It was bad enough she’d let her mother poison her entire outlook on the family, but now that she knew better, she didn’t want to listen to it anymore.

  “You’ve got issues with Norman, obviously, but stop lumping the whole family into the same bucket. If Logan is a Chamberlain, you’re insulting him every time you say it, and he doesn’t even know it. When he finds out the truth, how will all the awful things you say about them affect him? Will he think you hate him because he’s part Chamberlain?”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open. “Of course I don’t hate my son. That’s a horrible thing to say.”