“I would if we had any. The refrigerator I wanted is back-ordered, so all we have is the small refrigerator Gibbes is loaning us from his office. I guess I could settle for another model so I’d have something sooner, but the one I selected had every single feature we wanted—including the ice dispenser in the door for Owen—so I’m willing to wait. Anyway, the one we’re using isn’t big enough for a pitcher of anything.”
Loralee kept her sigh of exasperation to herself. “Then how about a tall glass of tap water?” She looked pointedly at Merritt.
After a quick glance toward the window, Merritt flipped off the sewing machine, then pushed back her chair. “All right. I guess that would be the right thing to do.”
Loralee followed Merritt into the kitchen, unable to resist rolling her eyes. She waited while Merritt took a glass from the cabinet, then held it under the cold tap while Loralee admired the cute yellow skirt and pale blue blouse that had been in the Belk bag. Merritt even wore Loralee’s sandals since, luckily, Loralee had on the slippers. The old loafers had mysteriously vanished, “accidentally” taken out with the trash.
“I like the outfit you’re wearing,” Loralee said, leaning heavily on the kitchen table and averting her eyes from the bowl of fruit in the center. Today even the thought of food was making her ill.
Merritt turned around so suddenly she sloshed some of the water from the glass. “Thank you. And thanks for picking it out for me. Although . . .” She paused, chewing on her lower lip.
“Although what?”
“I don’t like wearing things that show my scar.”
Loralee considered her words for a long moment, realizing how easy it would be to say the wrong thing. “We earn our scars, Merritt, and I think it’s only right that we show them off, because it proves where we’ve been. They’re something to be proud of.” When Merritt didn’t walk away or immediately change the subject, Loralee was encouraged enough to continue. “Besides, you’ve got a gorgeous pair of legs, and I think it’s a downright sin to hide them.”
Merritt’s lips twitched. “But don’t you think the skirt’s a little too tight in the bottom, and the top maybe a little snug around my chest?”
Loralee crossed her arms and gave Merritt the look she’d always reserved for those inebriated passengers who wanted to order another drink. “Sugar, your clothes should always be tight enough to show that you’re a woman, but loose enough to show that you’re a lady.” She made a mental note to add that one to her journal. “I’d say you can check both those boxes with that outfit.”
Merritt didn’t look completely convinced and began plucking and tugging on the fabric of the top and skirt while she headed out the back door, Loralee following close behind.
She watched as Merritt handed the glass to Gibbes, avoiding looking into his eyes, while Gibbes never took his gaze from Merritt’s face. There was something different between them today, like electrified air during a summer storm. If it were less humid, Loralee was pretty sure Merritt’s hair would be floating around her head like somebody had just rubbed a balloon up and down on it.
Gibbes drank all the water in big, long gulps while both Loralee and Merritt took the opportunity to admire the clinging T-shirt up close.
“Thank you,” he said, handing the glass back to Merritt.
Their fingers must have touched, or else Merritt had been bitten by a red ant, because she jerked away, dropping the glass. It hit a pile of dirt and didn’t shatter, but Merritt stared at it for a moment as if expecting it to. Then they both bent to pick it up and bumped heads, until finally Loralee stepped forward to get it and end their misery.
“I’m glad you came out,” Gibbes said. “I found something inside the hole and I’ve been trying to dig around it to make the opening wider so I can pull it up.”
Merritt stepped closer and looked down. “It looks like the side of a suitcase.” She stepped back and this time met Gibbes’s eyes.
“Yeah. I thought so, too.”
Loralee moved over to the bench and gratefully lowered herself onto it. “Maybe it’s from that plane that exploded and rained wreckage all over Beaufort. Maybe it’s somehow connected to that plane model Edith made that’s up in the attic. They’re both so bizarre that they’ve got to be related. It’s like that time Owen’s guinea pig disappeared and the neighbor’s dog stopped barking at Owen when he rode his bike in the driveway. I knew it had to be because the dog felt guilty about what he’d done to Owen’s pet.”
Both Merritt and Gibbes looked at her for a moment before Gibbes cleared his throat. “Anyway, it looks like it’s leather and has probably been down there for a while. If the whole thing doesn’t disintegrate when I pick it up, I’m not sure there will be anything inside that’s still recognizable or not covered in mildew.”
“Can I help?” Merritt asked.
Gibbes gave her an appraising look that Loralee felt sitting all the way over on the bench. “Sure. Just be careful you don’t ruin your outfit. I’d hate not to see it again.”
Merritt began tugging on the bottom of the skirt. “You don’t think it’s too short?”