Chapter 11: Church Luncheon

Rosalind Ainsley hosted the Ladies' Auxiliary luncheon in the church hall on the first Sunday of every month.

She had done it for thirty years.

I had cut the sandwiches for it for twenty of them.

At half past noon I walked in through the side door with a manila folder, still in the gray suit from the hearing.

Twelve women in good cardigans sat at three long tables with name cards and quiche.

Rosalind sat at the head of the middle table with a cup of tea, and her smile went stiff when she saw me.

"Maureen," she said. "This is a private event."

"It's a church hall," I said. "I've paid into the roof fund."

A woman near the end gave a small cough.

"Dear, I think you should leave," another one said. "Everyone has heard about the hospital."

"Then you'll want to hear the rest," I said.

I walked to the head of the table and opened the folder.

I laid the photocopies across the white tablecloth, one at a time, between the teapot and the lemon bars.

Eleven forms, one for each letter, with a blue signature at the bottom of each.

The woman on Rosalind's left, who wore a cameo, picked one up.

"Ms. Tolbert declines with thanks," she read, in a puzzled voice. "She is happily settled and asks not to be contacted."

"That isn't my sentence," I said. "I never said it. Curtis wrote it."

"Put that down," Rosalind said.

"R. Ainsley, mother of the groom, in confirmation," the woman read.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Sat Me by the Warming Racks, So I Pulled the Funding from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.