These are the true recollection of every juicy piece of gossip that have crossed my ears or my old eyes have seen first hand. Now to understand the whole story you need to know the characters in it. I don't like referring to my dearest and oldest friends as characters but if you knew them as I did you'd be hard pressed not to address them as such.
Mable
Mable was, God rest her soul, one of the kindest southern ladies any of us knew. She never spoke ill of anyone or anything. Some of us thought that made her weak, as in she never confronted any of the nay sayers that came along. She was the strongest of us all it turned out. Keeping a tight lip is damn near impossible. Poor Mabel had only one daughter, her fella having fell dead at work at a young age, even to the day she passed, weighed heavy on her. She wanted a house full of kids, grand babies and all sorts but there was only Sara. Mabel beamed with pride when Sara married but as the years passed she grew impatient to the lack of babies being had. One thing Mable did tell us was that Sara's husband didn't want any right away and she left it at that not wishing to speak badly of her babies choice in husbands. The two of them would be over time and time again for Sunday afternoon tea and Mike would go on about the houses he was fixen' up and reselling and she'd listen to him tell stories of how paint colours would be off or contractors puttin' extra doors into closets. Mable was glad for the company and didn't mention grandkids with the boy. We didn't know when it started but gradually over the years children would gravitate to Mabel's yard. Now her property is the biggest in the area that boasted a huge yard that she'd have gardeners come and take care of on Thursdays; pulling weeds, trimming bushes and cutting the lawn. On Saturdays we neighbours noticed the neighbourhood kids playing there. They would bring their baseball bats and whatnot and spend hours running around that lawn and then in the evening play a very competitive game of hide-n-seek. We asked Mable why they were there and if she knew about it and she said it was probably because she puts out cookies and a gallon of sweet tea for them. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize what this lady was doing to pass her days without any grandkids. We left her be after that, she was happy and the boys were not off being boys causing trouble where they shouldn't of been.
Jacky
If there was anyone that could stare down the devil it'd be this woman. She was as hard as nails and if you'd see her husband you'd know it. We reconcon that, before she came to our neighbourhood, before we knew her that once upon a time she was a kind soul; what man would knowingly marry such a woman. Turned out that Jacky couldn't have her own and that turned her sour. You can hardly blame a woman when you learned that about her. We'd sometimes spy her peering over Mable's hedge watching the youngsters play with a look of sorrow in her eye and once I happened on her. Imagine her surprise over the discovery, she was livid and not wanting to seem nosey; none of us did, she made up an excuse that she was worried about one of Mable's windows being busted or flowers trampled. It was sweet but far from the truth because when I asked Mable about it she had told the boys the rules and they were well aware that they were her guests but the cookies and tea would be brought to a halt if there was any damage. We figured that Jacky had, over the years living there, also thought of Mable incapable of seeing to herself so she had adopted her and liked to think she was looking out for her best interests. It was Jacky who brought to our notice at the end of the summer of twenty fifteen that Mable was heading off into the city every Friday afternoon and then getting home at about eight o'clock in a taxi. We were all worried, Jacky most of all even though she'd never admit it, at what that woman was off doing. It was Jacky that finally broke down and asked Mable where she was heading and the lady just replied, 'Seeing the sights before it's my time.' We didn't inquire after that, we were curious but not that nosey. Jacky was the most distraught after Mable's passing.
Caroline
One couldn't survive on southern charm and Caroline knew that the most. She was the starter of our little group, having inherited the grand house she was living in from her grandmother. Since she had never married or found an occupation before the inheritance had to do what she needed to do to stay there. The girl wasn't lacking the brainpower in any sense but did find a resolution to her money shortcomings in supporting the house; she ran a bed and breakfast out of the place. Caroline got the place when she was in her young twenties and now that she was in her prime of mid thirties she had built up the most desirable destination bed and breakfast in the county. For almost fifteen years, ten months out of the year, she had run that place with a steady hand and offered the best hospitality that no one could ever protest. People came from far and wide to spend a few nights there and paid well for the privilege to stay in such a fine place. For a mere hundred and fifty dollars you could stay in a place that dated back to the civil war and, if you were so inclined to stay over to a Monday, would have the privilege of a southern afternoon Sunday tea gathering with all the fixings including cucumber sandwiches and fine tea. Now I said the girl was smart but that's the tip of the iceberg, she had the clever idea of having us over to start the ball rolling on that little trick to get an extra night out of her guests when the most of them were itching to go back home to start work fresh Monday morning. What kind of neighbours would be to say no to such a request when Caroline saw to all the food and drink fixings? We played up that gathering as best as we could and even wore our Sunday finest. It had garnered so much attention that not one summer goes by without the papers doing a feature story about it. Had we suspected that the editor of the paper was sweet on her we might not have put on such a show but then again, it was the neighbourly thing to do to help out.
Rose
This is me. I came from a long line of southern wanderers. Never a decade or less went by without my folks packing up and heading off to the next town. It always got better where we went, daddy was a salesman and followed where the work was. A new town ment a nicer house in a better part of town and all things considered I didn't mind. I didn't have a problem making friends; they said I had a natural honest way about me and people couldn't help but want to be near and open up their lives story to me. I didn't mind. People, I must say, have a story to tell and like any good sales man's daughter I was taught to listen twice as much as I was to speak. With that on my side I was able to learn all about everyone and their relations; I was approachable. I, unlike Mables tight lip, spoke when it was needed to settle things or air out the laundry. There was no sense letting the devil run with a lie when the truth could be told. When my parents passed on they were very well off because of daddy and I settled here in this place, I liked it the best. I was married then widowed but that was no indication of me giving up on life. I had my children and they gifted me with great grandchildren that I often see from time to time. My golden years are just that. When I met Caroline I was the one to introduce her to the ladies in the neighbourhood and then was the one to help her start off her Sunday tea pursuit.
Now where to begin.
There was an err silence that took over the neighbourhood the day that Mable passed and went to be with our maker. It was the winter of twenty fifteen. The black bow on her gate at Christmas was a strike on all our hearts and those of strangers to instantly weep. We all tried to show a brave face but that was soon shattered the moment Jacky let a tear appear on her cheek at the memorial. If there was any a time to mourn that was a sure sign to start good and fast. Pastor Bobby, a young fella gave the liturgy and even broke down; he was one of the hundreds of boys that passed through the woman's yard as a youngin and his own children had the pleasure of cookies and sweet tea at Mables'.
Bless my ears for hearing that I overhead at the reception because none of what I had heard would make a lick of sense otherwise. I was pouring another cup of coffee when I heard Paul, the local lawyer speaking to Sara and her husband Mike. I pretended to need a spell of sitting to take a seat so I could linger a bit to hear it all. What those two had done to poor Mable should have gotten them prime seating near the dark one himself. They, a week prior had Mable shipped off to a nursing home without a word. All of us ladies knew Mable wanted to pass in her home quietly, she make no ceremony about telling us all ether. Turned out she had a cough and Mike insisted the move be made. After speaking to Rene at the home I learned that once she got there she caught an infection from her room mate...imaging that, they couldn't even bother to get her a private room… I digress. Anyway, she was gone in three days; at least her suffering was quick to pass. Paul was telling Sara and an irate Mike that the keys to Mables house were left in his possession and would only be handed over after the will was read. "But," Sara protested, being encouraged by Mike. "I'm her only child the house is rightfully mine." but Paul held firm and insisted that they make the reading of the will. Mike stormed past me in a rage and left the place and Sara, unable to go was gritting her teeth the rest of the time. It was near the end of the gathering that Paul and his lovely wife Leah found me and told me I was named in the will and that I should show up at his office at ten the next day. I was there so I saw all that had happened first hand. I did show up five minutes prior, I hated being tardy for anything but I'd make the exception for my last day. I sat and listened to Mike badger Sara crewly. He insisted that she should have 'seen to it' that this was taken care of beforehand. Beforehand? What on earth did that mean? There was something amiss but I couldn't put my finger on it just then, I was still missing my friend. As we sat in Paul's office he opened the seal on that document and started reading, pausing at times to explain the legal terms and what not. When he came to the distribution of assets he paused and looked at me asking, "Rose, are you familiar with the framed tapestry in the front entrance, the one covered with roses?" Why yes I was, I was taken back by it the first time I saw it. "Yes I am. Mable herself stitched that when Sara was still in her crib, she told me, it's a treasure to be sure." He nodded, "Mable thought you'd love it the best and give it a good home." Damn those tears for not having all fallen the day before because more were waiting for this moment. I had noticed in my grief that Sara didn't budge at the loss, perhaps she knew that her mother had a great deal of such things and the loss of one to a close friend was forgivable. "Now then, for the other items. Leah?" She was in there in an instant and sat near me. "All personal effects, jewelry, stitched items are to be held in trust by Ms Leah for a period of three years where then she will be at her soul discretion to retain or give away as she sees fit." There is was, Sara turned red. "To Sara the only item that is being left to you is my ruby broach and dining room table, chairs, hutch and the contents it contains." Paul looked at the irate woman, "it's all been packed up for you down to the letter and," Paul's hand pulled a satin bag from his desk. "The broach has been herby delivered to you along with its appraisal that was done earlier this year." "BUT the house?" Mike yelled and then calmed himself. "It's part of the families so what about it?" Now I had known Paul and his mother, Leah's mother too and you would not find two of the most righteous people anywhere so when their children married and Paul took to the law you knew nothing would go wrong; I suspect my gut knew it too and that's why I didn't flinch one muscle when all of Mable's treasures went to Leah. "Yes the house," There was knowledge in that statement but Paul wasn't going to say. "The house was sold a few months back to a foreign party. The sum of the assets will be released to you once all funeral expenses have been paid and a donation made to the church to build a playground on its grounds. Mable didn't wish the selling price be disclosed." Mike was now formally pissed, it was awkward. "Please show up at the residence at two this afternoon to pick up your items." Paul gave a nod and off Mike stormed. Sara sat there in complete shock at what she heard. "I don't understand, months ago? I mean, what had I done to her to make her hate me so?" She left the office and I gathered my tissues when it struck me for being so unkind to Paul and Leah. "I do hope your parents are doing well, I did recall seeing your mom at the grocery store and she looked very well Paul." I gave the boy a smile. "Do tell me how is your brother Seth fairing with his real estate business? Good I hope." There was Paul's all knowing smile again. "He's doing real fine with it Rose, he had a great start selling off one of the nicest places with a big yard in all the county a few months back." He winked. I smiled wide. "Glad to hear it child." I left and headed for home then to just arrive at Mables' place at one fifty five sharp. Mike was standing on the street barking at the movers that were handling those dining chairs with all the care in the world and asking if the contents of the China hutch were itemized before they were packed. Sara was reflecting over the few flowers that remained from those that were placed at the gate for her mother. Paul showed up with Leah and went in and I followed him. There was police officer at the door that let me pass but held Mike and Sara from entering. Paul was quick to suppress the protests, "Mable made it perfectly clear, had you stayed for the remainder of the reading, that you two could not set foot in the pace once she was in the ground." It was then that Seth showed up with a lady and Mike darted to him begging to know the selling price and who the buyer was so he could 'keep the house in the family' but Seth remained silent. I was telling Leah about what was left to me when it dawned on me that I had seen Seth's lady friend the day before at the memorial; she only stayed for an hour and didn't speak a word to anyone that I had noticed. Mike, having gotten nowhere with the brothers stormed off to wait in his car for his wife, he had had enough. Paul produced a letter addressed to her daughter. "Read it now please Sara. Your mother wished it." Sara cracked open the envelope and took five good minutes to read it and re read it. She went ghostly white and shook her head saying, "Well, I suspect it but now I know where his heart was all along. Have some divorce papers ready for me soon Paul." If that wasn't shocking enough, Paul replied, "They are ready and it's all been paid for." I had to admit I was the only one with her chops open and needed a moment to collect myself right. Sara handed the letter back to Paul and went off to her soon to be ex husband and there was silence. "Seth love, help me bring this down, I don't want to hurt the place or drop it...my daughter Bells is waiting outside to help me bring it home. He gave a nod and pulled out a set of keys. "First things first. Ms Mary, these are yours and welcome to the south." There went my jaw hanging open again. Seth had my tapestry outside in a jiffy and I followed him out; shocked that I hadn't heard or known of this before now.
Mable was a wickedly clever woman that none of us could ever give her credit for.