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"Y'all have any more of that strawberry jam you were selling at the July 4th festival? My husband went through a whole jar in a week, so I'd love to buy some more if you have any," Mrs. Fischer says.
"Let me check. I think we just got more in." I head back to the kitchen and prepare their sweet tea, a plate of lemon, pecan pie, and a plate of biscuits.
"I heard them ask, and yes, we have a dozen jars of the strawberry jam. My sister is working on making more, but the baby's been sick, so she has then focused on that." Austin tells me as I load up the tray to go back out.
Austin's sister, Natalie, used to work here at the diner, but once she got married and had her son, she quit. She makes things like jams and a few other canned goods to stay busy.
Her husband Jesse used to be some big city stock market guy and saved up a bunch of money. They bought a small ranch here in town, and that keeps them busy. It suits her. I've never seen her happier. We just don't see a lot of her since her son is so young.
I head back out to get the ladies their tea and food.
Once I return with the ladies’ orders, I tell them, "So, Austin says we have a dozen of the strawberry jam in stock, but it will be a little while before we get anymore because Natalie 's son has been sick."
I’m met with a chorus of 'oh no' and 'poor thing.'
"My David says that there's some kind of crud going around with the younger kids. Every year, it's something a little bit different. This year, it's lots of congestion, which just causes them to be cranky. I hope he gets over it soon," Mrs. Lombardi says.
Her husband is the town doctor. She is the youngest of the four ladies here, but they seemed to accept her as one of their own, probably because she has the best pipeline to gossip with the people who work with her husband at the doctor's office.
"Parker's son just got over it. He got it from school," Mrs. Pearl says.
"Did you hear that poor boy of hers is having to head back to court again because his grandparents are trying to take more visitation right from Parker? It was such a shame when that boy's father died. None of us could have ever known that his parents were like this." Mrs. Lombardi just shakes her head.
"Oh, that poor dear. What are they taking her to court for this time?" Miss Fisher asks.
"Now, instead of just the two weeks they had over summer, they want all of summer break," Mrs. Pearl says.
"I sure hope they're counter-suing for the way that they dropped that poor boy off last time. We all saw that video, basically shoving him out of the car like that." Mrs. Granger says in pure disgust.
"When they were in here just the other day, they seemed to be in good spirits. I wonder if there's any way we can help them?" I ask, wishing there was a way to do more.
"We need to find a way to get her a new lawyer. Someone that's going to help terminate those stupid, pesky grandparent rights. I don't know what they taught that woman up there in that big city, but down here in the South, we don't treat our children like that. And poor Parker has to choose between fighting for her kid and keeping her family's ranch. It's just not right," Mrs. Pearl says, and we all agree.
"Do we know any good lawyers which have experience in this type of case?"
"Let me ask around and see what I can find, but if we do find one, they're not going to be cheap," Mrs. Granger says.
"I'm willing to bet everyone in town would be more than happy to donate something toward a good lawyer for her. After all, Parker and her family have always been the first to help out whenever anyone else in town has needed it. She filled in at the doctor's office last summer when half the staff was out with the flu," Mrs. Lombardi adds.
"She sent her ranch cook here to fill in a few days when our cook had a death in the family out of town a few months back," I tell them.
Every one of the ladies has a similar story where someone in town was in need, and either she stepped in or she would lend some of her ranch resources to help.
"But you know she would never accept help, especially not if it meant collecting donations for something," Mrs. Granger says.
"So, we don't do anything too public. We ask around, we find a good lawyer, and we give the money right to him to offset whatever she would have to pay, and we'll just make sure that it's less than what she's paying now," Mrs. Pearl says.
"I'm beginning to understand more and more why you've been through so many husbands," Mrs. Lombardi jokes.
"Well, let's go back to the church and talk to the pastor. He'd be a great person to know where to start," Mrs. Fisher says, and they agree.
"Once you get the details down, let me know. Pretty much everybody in town is in here at some point throughout the week," I tell them, and Mrs. Pearl squeezes my hand.
"You are such a sweet and kind girl. How you haven't found someone yet, I don't know, but I am going to be on the lookout for you." Mrs. Granger says.
"You promised no more matchmaking," Mrs. Fisher reminds her.
"That was a few years ago. There's nothing wrong with helping out a friend," Mrs. Granger winks, and I have a feeling there's a story behind all of this, but I don't get a chance to ask as the bell chimes, letting me know someone else's entered the diner.
