“I’ll make hot rolls,” Joanie offered. “Folks often forget to bring the bread.”

“I could do a chocolate sheet cake.” Diana unloaded the bags. “It only takes thirty minutes from start to finish. I’ll make it in the morning so it will be fresh.”

She pushed away the thoughts of what people would bring to the house when Tootsie died. Lord have mercy! She had to stop thinking about such things. She made a silent vow to spend more time with Tootsie when they got back to Sugar Run.

“Thank y’all. Smokey did that kind of thing when we had to go to funerals before. Thank God y’all came with me, or I’d be takin’ in store-bought cheesecake or a vegetable tray,” Tootsie said. “When we get this stuff put away, I’ve got something to say while we have dinner. Thank you for cooking while I was gone, Carmen.”

“Tootsie, I’m so, so sorry.” Carmen’s eyes floated in tears as she hugged Tootsie. “What can I do?”

“You’re here with me, and you’ve got a nice little dinner made. Let’s eat. My mama always said that food and friends were a great comfort,” Tootsie said.

Luke sniffed the air. “I smell something spicy.”

“It don’t take much to make a gingerbread with warm lemon sauce for dessert,” Carmen told him. “It’s in the oven with the casserole.”

“Good Lord, I’m going to gain fifty pounds while we’re here.” Tootsie’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“And you’d still be tiny even if you did,” Diana told her.

When they finished reloading the pantry, refrigerator, and freezer, they gathered around the dining room table, sitting in the same places that Tootsie had assigned the day before. Luke said grace, and then Tootsie raised her glass of tea.

“What are we toasting?” Diana asked.

“To Midge and to lifelong friendship,” Tootsie said.

“To Midge,” they chanted as they raised their glasses and took a drink.

“I’ve got something to say now while we pass this food around the table. I don’t want to be mollycoddled. Midge was ready to go, and although I’ll miss her, I’m glad she’s gone. Seeing her like that broke my heart and helped me see what a huge blessing it was that Smokey had good health up to the last minute of his life.” She stopped and took another sip of her tea. “I’m already in the grieving process, and I don’t intend to go back and start all over with denial. I’m going to let Midge go with dignity, in her own way and her own time.”

“That’s good, Aunt Tootsie,” Luke said.

“And now for the rest of the story . . .” Tootsie glanced around the table. “I’m very grateful that y’all are on this journey with me.”

Diana’s breath caught in her chest. Had Tootsie insisted that they go with her because she was sick and knew this would be her last trip?

“We’re the ones who are grateful that you brought us along. We need this time with you to get through our own problems,” Carmen said.

“When we get old, the biggest blessing in the world is simply to be needed,” Tootsie said. “Now enough of that. Tomorrow we’ll go to Midge’s service, have dinner with Sissy and the people who loved Midge, then come home to live, love, and make an attempt at happiness. That’s what Smokey would tell me, and that’s what we’re goin’ to do. I hope I live to be a hundred, but if my time is up tomorrow, I hope I die like Smokey did.” She snapped her fingers. “One minute on this side of eternity and then, in a single breath, on the other side.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carmen said.

Life, love, and happiness. Life, one doesn’t have a choice about. Love is negotiable. Happiness—that’s the tough one, Diana thought.

Chapter Nine

Diana hated funerals, but there was no way she wouldn’t go with Tootsie to support her the day of Midge’s service. But by midafternoon, she felt like the walls were closing in on her. Tootsie was surrounded by people she knew, so Diana thought it was all right to slip out the back door. She rounded the corner of the house and walked through the yard and into the pecan orchard out beyond that. She’d gone quite a way into the wooded area when she found a log with all the bark peeled off that made a perfect bench.

During the past month, too much sadness had surrounded her, and she needed a break, something to take away the heaviness that felt like a cold, wet blanket on her shoulders. Too much change, too quickly, was taking its toll on her. First, Smokey dying, then the girls leaving, Carmen’s divorce, and now Tootsie’s best friend was gone. She heaved a sigh of relief just knowing that Tootsie hadn’t wanted the whole bunch of them to join her because she was sick, too.

Thank goodness she, Joanie, and Carmen had all packed a Sunday outfit just in case Tootsie wanted them to go to church with her. But the flowing muted-green skirt and matching emerald cardigan Diana had brought with her sure weren’t what she’d call right for a funeral. A north wind rained leaves down around her and went right through her thin sweater. She gathered the front of it in a fist to pull it closer to her and watched a squirrel dash up one of the trees, harvest a pecan still in the green hull, and scamper down to the ground to dig a hole and bury it.

“I wish I could bury a lot of things like that,” she muttered.

Tootsie sat down beside her. “Amen. I had to get away from all those people. It brought back too many memories of the dinner we had after Smokey’s funeral. I’m feeling like I’m next in line.”

“Don’t get in a hurry.” Diana laid a hand over Tootsie’s. “Drag your feet a little. Heaven is timeless, so Smokey won’t realize how many years it takes you to get there.”

“I never thought of it like that,” Tootsie said.

“A sweet little elderly lady at church told me that when my folks died while I was in college. I went into a depression, and she brought brownies over to my apartment. I told her how I felt, and she really gave me a lecture that ended with that idea. That my parents were in a place where there were no clocks or calendars, and they’d want me to live a full life so that when I joined them, neither they nor I would have regrets. But sometimes these days I feel a lot overwhelmed, so I know you do, too.” Diana picked a few yellow leaves from Tootsie’s hair.