The Rivers Webb (21 page)

“Arthur wants to say goodbye, too. He's gonna be headin' over to the Boardin' House to have a beer with ya'—'Course, I'm not s'pposed to know about the beer part.”

They both laughed a little at that, then John nodded toward the vase.

“Could you do me a favor? I have been smelling this all over the place, and it's been driving me crazy. It seems familiar, but I don't know where from.”

Annie Ruth looked over to the vase.

“That's Quisquallis. It grows wild all over Coweta County, so I'm not surprised you were smellin' it. As fer it bein' familiar…well, y'er mother might'a had some. I recall I gave her a nice cuttin' of it when the two o' you left, on a count o' she liked it so much.”

Suddenly, a memory came to John that filled in that last gap.

“It didn't last too long,” John said, “She worked at it for a full year, but the weather just wouldn't let it thrive.”

He smiled, as a man does who has suddenly been relieved of a burden.

“That has been bugging me since I got here.”

“I got some news…” Annie Ruth said with a sly grin.

“Oh?”

“I been suspectin' fer a while, but I just got word from the doctor this mornin'.

“The doctor?”

“Me an' Arthur are havin' us another baby,” she announced, “an' I was thinkin'…”

She looked down at the floor for a moment.

“If it's alright with you, Arthur an' I agreed that—if it's a girl—we wanna name it Linda Sue, after your mama.”

John didn't quite know what to say. He stammered for a moment like an idiot, then finally smiled.

“Of course, I'd be honored.”

Annie Ruth beamed widely at that. She grabbed his arm and led him out.

“Things'r gonna be real diff'rent in Coweta County, now. They's just so much that's changin' I can hardly take it all in!” she said, shaking her head. John understood. The Rivers family had been at the center of everything that had happened in the county—and beyond. With them gone, people would have to figure out how to adjust.

“I'm not worried in the least. I think that the new sheriff will do a fine job, and the family business is in the very best hands I could hope for.”

Annie Ruth shook her head again, as she thought about that.

“There is definitely gonna be some talk about that, I can assure you!”

“You don't think I got the right man for the job?” John asked idly.

“Oh, certainly, he is the fella' for the job. I cain't think o' anybody who knows more about the workin's o' the Rivers' comp'ny, but…”

“But what?” John asked innocently.

“Oh, stop it, John. You know as well as I do that Gerald's gonna be havin' a time an' a half convincin' folks 'round here ta' do business with a black man!”

John smiled dismissively.

“Gerald will do just fine.”

“And you're sure you don't want to stay around fer a while? I mean, ya' got ever'thing a man could want here…”

“It's just not my life, Annie Ruth.”

“I know…” she said, with a sad smile. “It just don't seem fair, somehow. All this, by rights, is yours. Y'er the last o' the Rivers, really.”

“I'm not a Rivers, Annie Ruth.”

“I know that. I s'pose that's why it don't seem right, you leavin' all this behind like y'er doin'. More 'an anybody, you deserve it.”

They walked toward the door, and John looked over his shoulder at the wall, now vacant, that once held a tapestry.

“I want ta' thank you again fer lettin' us move in here, John. 'Specially now, with the new one on the way,” Annie Ruth announced, breaking the momentary silence.

“Thank me? I should be thanking you. I can rest easy knowing that Annie Ruth Stovall is taking good care of Aunt Wilhelmina.”

“Well, you can rest easy, then. I'll watch over her night an' day. I know that sounds odd, with what happened to Emma Lou, but it seems ta' me that it's time ta' let that whole business go. An' this is a good way to do that.”

“I'm glad you feel that way,” John said, an oddly restful look on his face, “because I want Wilhelmina to live a very, very long time.”