Sweetgrass. Mary Monroe Alice

door swung wide. To her surprise, it was Aunt Adele who welcomed them in a sensational blouse of creamy raw silk, looking every bit the lady of the house.

      “Here you are!” she exclaimed, her dark eyes brightening.

      Preston’s sister was a tall, proud woman, as fierce a competitor in golf and tennis as in the real estate development business she’d built. Her salt-and-pepper hair was neatly trimmed away from her face, accentuating her trim, athletic good looks.

      Nan began her litany of excuses, but Adele blithely waved them aside.

      “Oh, none of that matters. Come in, come in! And you two,” she said, opening her arms to the boys. “Where have you been hiding? Come here this minute and give me a proper hug.”

      Shuffling their feet, they obliged, but Nan didn’t miss the real affection between them. Adele was the godmother for both of her children. Never having married or had any children of her own, Adele doted on the boys and spoiled them with gifts. Mama June felt a little jealous that the boys spent more time at Adele’s spacious home on Sullivan’s Island, with her boats and pool and fridge filled with snacks, than at Sweetgrass. Adele was a wealthy woman who always had a spare dollar or three to hand out, while Mama June and Preston always had to pinch pennies.

      Adele stood back to look at the boys. “My, my, don’t you look handsome.”

      Chas rubbed his finger between his collar and neck. “Mama made us dress up.”

      “Dress up? Honey, in my day, you boys would be in a jacket and tie. Without air-conditioning, mind you. So count your blessings.” She turned to Harry. “I thought you’d be out on the golf course this afternoon.”

      He grimaced. “I should be. I’m playing in a tournament next week.”

      “Your daddy told me. Say, I saw a new titanium putter at the club that’s as light as a feather and sure to help your game.”

      “Yeah?” Harry exclaimed. “But I’ll bet it costs an arm and a leg.”

      “Maybe not all that much.” She winked. “Be good today and we’ll talk.”

      “Now, Aunt Adele…” Nan interjected, not wanting the boys to always feel they needed a reward for good behavior.

      “We’d better join the others before they wonder where we are,” Adele interrupted, expertly steering the family into the living room.

      The moment they stepped in, the room exploded with hoots and hollers. Morgan rushed out of his chair and wrapped Nan in a bear hug. The affection and banter flowed freely between brother and sister, spreading throughout the room.

      Mama June wrapped her arms around herself, hearing the merriment as a string of firecrackers celebrating the family’s reunion. Hank smoothly stepped forward to act as bartender, serving the ladies mimosas.

      “Morgan, what’s your poison?”

      “Bourbon on the rocks, thanks.”

      “A man after my own heart.”

      “That sounds good to me, too, Dad,” Harry called out.

      “There’re Cokes in the fridge,” Mama June replied. “Help yourself. But first, come say hello to your uncle.”

      “I doubt they much remember you, Morgan,” Adele said.

      Mama June thought the comment unkind, but Morgan sauntered over, extending his hand with a lopsided grin.

      “I’ll bet you haven’t forgotten that boar hunt, huh?” he asked.

      Harry, who adored hunting, shook his head and readily took Morgan’s hand. “No, sir!”

      “What boar hunt?” Chas immediately wanted to know.

      Harry launched into the tale, eliciting guffaws from Hank and Morgan. Mama June listened, attuned to the gift of storytelling that her grandson had inherited from his grandfather Blakely, along with Preston’s throaty laugh. Seeing the genetic imprint carry on from generation to generation was, for her, a blessing of growing older. Her attention was distracted, however, by Adele. She meandered about the room perusing the colonial-era furniture with a proprietary air. She stopped before an empire bookcase that held several pieces of family silver.

      “Well, I’ll be….” She reached into the cabinet and lifted out a small engraved silver cup. “You found my porridge cup!”

      Mama June came directly to her side. “Yes! After all these years we found it when we moved furniture in the dining room. It was wedged between the breakfront and the wall. Don’t ask me how it got there.”

      “It was probably Press or Tripp that hid it there, just to rile me.” Adele tenderly turned the burnished silver cup in her hands. “I never thought I’d see this again.”

      “Why don’t you keep it? Take it home with you,” Mama June offered.

      Adele’s gaze shot up. “How nice of you to offer me my own porridge cup,” she said with sharp sarcasm that put Mama June’s teeth on edge.

      From the corner of her eye she caught Morgan’s swift turn of head at the tone, his eyes searching.

      Despite Mama June’s protests, Adele put the porridge cup back on the shelf with a great show.

      Mama June was sensitive to the fact that it was difficult for her sister-in-law to be a guest in the house she’d grown up in. Though she’d never said so openly, it was clearly understood by both women that even though Mama June owned Sweetgrass, she wasn’t from Sweetgrass. And that fact was a major burr under Adele’s seat.

      Letting the comment slide, she smiled and announced it was time for dinner.

      The large meal that Mama June had slaved over was consumed with relish and compliments. She beamed as she watched her grandsons help themselves to seconds of the chicken with Madeira sauce from an old family recipe. The cocktails had loosened their tongues and they talked amiably as they ate. For a while she felt transported in time to when such gatherings were commonplace at Sweetgrass. Morgan, never much of a talker, spoke openly about his life in Montana, and the boys ate up his stories and peppered him with questions. They liked him, she thought with delight. And the feeling was mutual. Too soon, it was time to clear the dishes, and Nan helped her serve the pecan pie and ice cream that was a universal favorite.

      She was pouring coffee when a subtle mood shift indicated they all sensed the chitchat was over and it was time to talk business. Their radars finely honed to such nuances, the boys asked to be excused from the table and dashed for the exit. Mama June sought Morgan’s eyes and they shared a commiserating look.

      He cleared his throat and all heads turned toward him. She had purposefully set him in Preston’s seat at the head of the table, a gesture she knew had not gone unnoticed by Adele at his right. Nan sat to his left and Hank to Mama June’s right at the table’s other end.

      “I wish my homecoming had been under happier circumstances,” he began.

      “Lord knows we all waited long enough, bless your heart,” Adele said.

      “Yes. A long time,” he replied.

      How extraordinary, Mama June thought. How coolly her son dealt with Adele’s niggling.

      “Well, you’re home now,” Nan said, springing to his defense. “That’s what’s important.”

      Mama June smiled gratefully at her daughter.

      “Anyway,” Morgan continued, “Mama June has asked me to stay on for a while. And I’ve agreed.”

      Adele’s brows rose as she exchanged a quick glance with Hank, who frowned.

      “That’s wonderful,” exclaimed Nan. “I’d hoped you would, what with Daddy in the hospital.”

      That was her opening. Mama June set her cup down in the saucer and straightened her shoulders. She looked around