Fletcher lifted an eyebrow. “What do you suggest, Dottie Jean?”
Dottie Jean shrugged and peered up at Allie Mae. “Bring us two catfish dinners.” The young woman smiled then headed to the kitchen.
“I’m taking your word for it that the food is good.” He opened his napkin across his lap and reached for a square of cornbread.
“Hank and I came down here to join his grandparents in their fishing business.”
Fletcher buttered his bread and nodded toward the wall. “I recognize him now up there standing by his boat. Was it his?”
“Yes, he had several in his fleet.”
After all these years, Fletcher’s eyes were still as blue as the sky outside the window. “Hank loved fishing, and I loved cooking. That’s how we ended up with Catfish House.”
He almost choked on his cornbread. After a sip of water to get it down, he stared at her. “You mean you own this place?”
“Yes, I do. I didn’t mean to startle you, but all of what you see belongs to me.”
He shook his head and grinned as if he couldn’t believe she could run a business on her own. Right then Allie Mae showed up with two heaping platters of catfish and coleslaw as well as a bowl of beans and another basket of hushpuppies.
“Do you mind if we return thanks?” he asked. At her nod, he bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord, for the food we are about to eat. And in this case, special thanks for the hands that prepared it. Amen.”
Dottie Jean toyed with her food and observed Fletcher. He reminded her of how much Hank had loved eating her meals. She bit down on a crunchy filet of fried catfish. Just the right blend of seasoning. Junior Lee had done himself proud tonight.
Fletcher finally pushed his plate aside and laid his napkin on the table. “My son was right. That’s about the best seafood I’ve had in a long time. What’s your secret?”
She teased, “It wouldn’t be a secret anymore if I told you, would it?”
“Guess not.” He glanced at his watch. I hate to break this up, but I have to drive back to Jackson tonight.” He signaled Allie May to bring his check.
Where had the time gone? She wished he could stay longer. At least she could take care of dinner. “No, no. The meal’s on me. I’ve really enjoyed talking with you. Please come back sometime. And bring your family with you. I’d love to meet them.”
Before he could answer, Jenny joined them. “Are you going to introduce me, Mom?”
“Of course. Fletcher, this is my daughter Jenny. She just graduated from Ole Miss.”
Fletcher stood and greeted Jenny. “Fletcher Cameron, old friend of your mother. No wonder you looked familiar to me when I came in. You’re a carbon copy of the Dottie Jean Miller I knew as a teenager.”
Jenny’s cheeks turned pink. “Thank you. My daddy used to tell me the same thing. Glad you joined us tonight.” She glanced toward the door where another couple had entered. “Duty calls. Very nice to have met you, Mr. Cameron.” She hurried back to resume her hostess duties.
“You must be proud of her. She’s a lovely young woman, just like her mother.”
Dottie Jean’s tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t even say thank you. She simply smiled and accompanied Fletcher to the front door.
“Thanks for the meal. I’ll be back sometime soon.” He waved and ambled down the block to his waiting car.
She smoothed her hair back from her face, and gazed through the window at his departing back. That had been a pleasant encounter, but would she ever see him again? She turned back to her duties of taking care of her patrons and pushed Fletcher Cameron from her mind.
***
Fletcher turned onto the highway. The food had been just as good as Kevin had said, but the company had been better. Although he frequently socialized with a number of friends from high school, his visit with Dottie Jean brought back vivid memories of football games, pep rallies, and proms. He chuckled at the image of Dottie Jean at the top of the cheerleader’s pyramid, her pony-tail hairdo bouncing in the breeze, yelling at the top of her lungs. Perhaps she’d be willing to have dinner with him again soon.
By the time he’d returned home to Jackson, most of the memories of his teens had returned to be relived. When he turned into the driveway of his expansive home, he again felt the emptiness of his heart without Barbara there to greet him. He let himself into dark house and locked the door behind him. After a few moments of standing in the silence, he strode across the entryway to the stairs. His footsteps echoed on the polished wood floor.
The house once filled with the love and laughter of a growing family now seemed just an empty shell where he came to sleep. Despite his wealth, loneliness had become his constant companion.
He walked up the stairway to the second floor and made a decision. He would call Dottie Jean tomorrow. At his age, he didn’t see any sense in wasting time. The time had come to return to a social life.
Chapter Three
The next day, young Tommy from Patty’s Posies plopped a long white box onto the cashier’s counter. “Flowers for Mrs. Weaver.”
“For me?” Dottie Jean peered over her granny glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“That’s what it says. Oh, yeah, Miss Patty has a big vase for you if you can’t find one.”
She handed him a tip, and he grinned. “Thanks, Mrs. Weaver.”
“And thank you, Tommy.” She called after him then glanced around the diner to find the five patrons left from lunch all eyes and ears. Even Allie May and Clara stood poised ready to view the contents of the box.
Dottie Jean’s laughter rang out. Well, she didn’t mind satisfying their curiosity. She pulled off the ribbon and lifted two-dozen yellow roses from their bed of green tissue. Her favorites. Her heart did a little flutter step as she inhaled their fragrance.
“Ohs and ahs” spread around the room. From the office, Jenny appeared to investigate the noise and stopped in her tracks. “Where . . . who . . . Mom, they’re beautiful? Who’re they from?”
Dottie Jean opened the card and read the note. “Thanks for a wonderful evening. Let’s do it again soon. My treat this time. Fletch.”
Heat flooded her cheeks as she buried her face in the sweet scented blossoms. “Oh my. What a surprise. They’re from Fletcher.”
The thought of seeing him again produced another flutter in her heart. Pictures of him in the sports section of the newspaper as a professional football player skittered through her memory as well as photos of him with Barbara at society fund-raisers. What did a man of Fletcher’s background see in her?
“Here, Mom. Let me put those in water.” Jenny reached for the flowers, but Dottie Jean couldn’t part with them just yet. More memories crowded her mind. She shook her head to clear it then handed the bouquet to Jenny.
“They’re so lovely. How nice of him to thank you.” She cradled the long stemmed roses in her arms.
“Patty said she has a vase for them.” They had nothing befitting this bouquet in the office.
“Good, I’ll go get it.” Jenny disappeared into the office only to emerge a few moments later headed for Patty’s.
Allie May scurried over to the counter. “Wow, Mrs. Weaver. Those sure were pretty. Are they from the nice man you ate dinner with last night?”
“Yes, they are. He’s an old friend from high school.” This would be all over town before sundown, and she’d be answering a million questions, especially from Sassy and Sue Ellen.
After a few moments, the remaining diners resumed their friendly chatter with one another, and Jenny returned with the vase and disappeared into the office. A few minutes later she reappeared with the crystal container of yellow beauties.
“Where shall we put them?” Jenny grasped the vase with both hands and gazed around the room. “I know, let’s put them near the register. That way everyone can enjoy them.”
Dottie Jean bit her lip. Did she really want them out where they’d be in view for all her customers? Oh, why not. “That�
��ll be fine, Jenny. They’re really too pretty to sit back in the office.” Even if they did cause a few whispers and curious stares.
That afternoon, Sassy and Sue Ellen showed for their usual afternoon tea. The two ladies tumbled through the door like new puppies chasing a toy. Sassy grabbed Dottie Jean by the shoulders and sat her down in a chair.
“Now tell us all about those roses and who they’re from.” She settled at a table and planted her arms across her chest.
There’d be no moving the two of them until they were told all about it. As she related the previous evening, their eyes lit up with curiosity. Nancy Sue smirked, and Sassy grinned like the Cheshire cat.
Sassy patted Dottie Jean’s arm. “Now who has a man after her?”
“Oh for. . .Sassy, he just came in for dinner. I haven’t seen him in over forty years.”
Sue Ellen chortled. “Don’t give me that Dottie Jean Weaver. I know how you were laughing and enjoying each other. I was here and saw the whole thing.” She sat back smug as a bug.
“You didn’t see anything but two old friends talking about their grandkids.” Sometimes her friends were a pain even if she did love them. But how could she have missed Sue Ellen being in the restaurant. Of course she hadn’t seen anything during dinner except Fletcher Cameron or heard much of anything but his words.
Sue Ellen waved her hand. “Don’t get your pantyhose in a knot. We’re just teasing like you teased us, and you know it. If you don’t want him, I might go after him myself.”
“And break Sheriff Briggs heart? I don’t think so.” Dottie Jean stood. “Now shoo. I still have pies to bake.”
When Dottie Jean closed the door behind them, she watched as they marched down the street toward their own homes. Everybody in town probably knew all about Fletcher Cameron and his roses, but for some reason she really didn’t mind.
After baking the pies, she helped Allie May and Clara set up for dinner. The phone rang in the office, and Jenny poked her head out the door with a knowing grin spreading across her face. “Mom, it’s for you.”
Dottie Jean rushed to the take the call. When she answered, Fletcher’s voice greeted her from the other end and asked about the roses.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She forced her voice to sound steady and eased into the leather chair behind the desk.
“You’re welcome, and I meant what I said about wanting to see you. Only this time I want to take you somewhere outside Calista. Can you get away one night this week?”
The sound of his voice turned her knees to jelly. She took a deep breath swiped her sweaty palm across her uniform. “I . . . I think so. We’re usually not busy on Thursday nights.”
“Great. Thursday it will be. I’ll come down around five, and we can drive over to Biloxi. I won’t presume to offer seafood, so how about steak?”
Dottie Jean swallowed to clear her throat and calm her nerves before answering. “I think that will be fine. I’ll be ready.”
“Okay, five on Thursday. It’ll be good to see you again and catch up on old times.”
“Yes, that will be nice. Thank you.”
After she set the phone back on its base, she spent a few moments staring at a picture of Hank smiling at her from and old photograph. Her fingers touched the glass. “Oh, Hank. I do want to see Fletcher again. I haven’t stopped loving you, but I miss having a man taking me places. Forgive me, Sweetheart.”
Her whispered words sent a whirlpool of conflicting feelings through her heart.
***
Fletcher laid the phone on his desk and smiled. He hadn’t even thought of taking another woman to dinner until he had seen Dottie Jean. Being with her brought out a desire to reconnect with that part of his past.
He gazed out the window of his office and remembered how Dottie Jean had always been the top girl on the cheerleader pyramids because of her tiny stature. Even with the bit of gray in her hair, she looked more like a teenager than a grandmother. And her blue-green eyes still sparkled when she smiled.
God, are you bringing us together at this time in our lives? You know I loved Barb with all my heart and soul. I’ll never stop loving her, but I’m still young and do want the love of a woman. Guide me, Lord. I want to do what is in Your will.
His son Kevin stepped through the door. “Hey, Dad, did you make it to Calista?”
Fletcher nodded. “I sure did, and you were right on the money. Best catfish I’ve had in a long time.”
“That’s what I hoped you’d say. Thought I’d check into its finances and ownership. Might be a good investment.”
“I know who owns the business. Turns out it’s an old friend from my high school days.”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “That so? Think he’d be interested in talking with us?”
“Not a he, a she. Dottie Jean Weaver. And I don’t think she’d be interested in anything we have to offer.” Indeed, she had seemed entirely content with her responsibility of the restaurant.
Kevin furrowed his brow. “If you say so, but I think you’re missing a good bet with this one.”
Mrs. Phelps, his long-time secretary knocked on the door. “I hate to interrupt, Mr. Cameron, but you have a board meeting in fifteen minutes.” She placed a folder on his desk. “Here’s all the information you requested.”
“Thanks.” He glanced up at Kevin. “Work calls. Remember what I said and leave Catfish House alone.”
“Of course. See you in a few minutes.”
Fletcher picked up the folder and scanned the documents inside. Everything looked in order. He leaned back in his chair. Fletcher considered looking up the records for the Catfish House himself. If Dottie Jean needed any financial help, he could make sure she received it.
Chapter Four
On Thursday, Dottie Jean prepared for her date with Fletcher. She held a yellow shirt under her chin and tilted her head at her reflection in the closet mirror.
Jenny frowned. “No, Mom, I like the blue one better.”
Dottie Jean tossed the offending blouse on the bed and picked up the blue top. “Thanks, I do too.” She pulled it over her shoulders and buttoned it up. She patted hair then pulled the pins from the bun at the nape of her neck. The locks fell about her shoulders and down her back. Perhaps she should color it to get rid of the gray, but that wouldn’t help tonight. “Jenny, what should I do with my hair?”
“I don’t know. Let me see if I can fix it.” She picked up the brush and ran it through Dottie Jean’s long hair.
“Maybe I ought to let Nancy Sue cut it short. She’s always after me to do it.” Dottie Jean wrinkled her nose. “Sue Ellen told me I’d look younger with it off my neck and softer around my face.” She couldn’t see how it would make a difference, but then that wasn’t her profession.
“I agree, but it’s your decision.” She swept Dottie Jean’s hair back with her fingers. “Let me do a French twist in the back instead of the bun you usually wear.”
In a few minutes the magic was done. Jenny stepped back to admire her handiwork. “I like it.”
“So do I. Thanks, sweetie.” She admired the new do in the mirror before picking up her make-up brush.
Jenny flopped on the bed. “I think your going out with Mr. Cameron is kinda neat. Were he and Dad friends in high school?”
Dottie Jean swept blush across her cheeks. “They were on the football team together, but they didn’t socialize. We didn’t run in the crowd as Fletcher and Barbara.”
Jenny pulled up her feet to sit cross-legged on the bed. “Mom, you never really told us about your life in Jackson. I don’t remember much about Grandma and Granddad or Pawpaw and Memaw Weaver.”
Dottie Jean furrowed her brow and pulled a denim skirt up over her hips. “Not a lot to tell, Sweetie. Daddy and I fell in love our senior year and eloped the week after graduation. We came to Calista to help Pawpaw with his fishing business.”
Jenny sighed. “I know that. It’s how you lived and what you did in Jackson I’m interested in.”
>
“You need to listen more carefully when your aunts and uncles get together instead of running off with your cousins. We talk about that stuff all the time.” She grinned at her daughter’s exasperation. Of course, the stories told at reunions didn’t really reveal the truth of her childhood, but Jenny didn’t need to know some of the details of that life.
“Okay, okay. I get the message.” Jenny tilted her head. “So, where is this relationship going? I mean do you think you’ll go out with Mr. Cameron again after tonight?”
“I don’t know. We’re old friends, and that’s all. This is probably just his way to thank me for the dinner the other night.” She buckled a silver and turquoise belt around her waist and considered her appearance. Maybe she needed to look into a diet plan to shed a few pounds around her waist.
Jenny slid off the bed and hugged her mother. “Go on and have a good time, but I’m going to want to hear all about it when you get home.” She stopped at the door. “By the way, remember Bill will be here with the new computer this weekend. As soon as it’s all hooked up and ready to go, I‘ll show you how to use it.”
“You know I’m not good with machines and electronics and things like that. You use it. That’s why you wanted it anyway. Wasn’t it” Dottie Jean glanced sideways toward Jenny and smiled. Bill and Jenny could worry about the computer. Perhaps she’d learn to use it, perhaps not.
Jenny shook her head and disappeared down the hall. Dottie Jean turned to pick up her purse and caught sight of her high school yearbook on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. She bent over and reached for it then sat on the bed. With it on her lap, she leafed through the pages. Jenny had wanted to know about what she and Hank had done as teenagers. Maybe she’d let her see this. Of course the yearbook told only one part of the story – the fun part.
Fletcher’s bold hand had penned across his picture, “Best wishes and good luck to a really cute cheerleader. Keep up the good work.” Typical writing for a yearbook, but she had treasured those words from the star football player.
Biloxi Brides (Sugar and Grits) Page 2