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“I can go with you,” Bran said.
“I’m afraid my quilting club meets tomorrow evening,” May said.
I turned to Grams. “What about you? You want to go with Bran and me?”
Grams gave me a smile. “I can do that. Now, May, tell me about your home. Elphyra says you are her nearest neighbor?”
As May began to talk about Brambleberry Farm, I went back to my dinner. But my thoughts weren’t on Bran, or May or even Grams. They were on my cousin Diedre, and what she was facing. I wondered what other skeletons were hidden in the family closet, and how many of our relatives knew about her. I had a hundred questions, but I decided to wait until later to ask. We finished up the evening and May and Bran headed for home after setting a time for Bran and Grams to accompany me to the graveyard next to Bree’s.
CHAPTERFIVE
The next morning,I showed Grams around Starlight Hollow before I had to go back and open my shop. Fancypants opted to stay home—he was hooked on a morning show about antiques and so I turned on the TV, set the remote pointed at the television so he could press the buttons, and then Grams and I headed out.
We began our tour of the town starting with breakfast at Honey Badger’s—a diner run by one of the local drag queens. By day, Honey was a metrosexual, smooth-as-silk gay man, but three times a week, he turned into Honey Badger, a trash-talking fine-as-wine drag queen who held a show at the Empire, a local underground nightclub for those who liked life on the edge.
While the majority of locals didn’t attend, they all knew Honey and loved him with a passion usually reserved for their favorite pastor. Honey had acquired the unofficial title of Saint Honey, patron of the hungry. He donated all his profits from his drag shows to the local food bank. Since most everyone in town had—at one time or another—needed a little help, Honey was known as a benevolent benefactor. He also opened his diner one night a week as a soup kitchen, and kept the food he didn’t sell during the day for the poor kids to stop by and take home to their hungry families.
I told Grams the story as we parked in the lot and crowded in for breakfast. We were lucky—a booth had opened—but, as usual, the place was packed. The food was good, the atmosphere over-the-top, and above all, eating at Honey’s diner feltfun.
The walls were covered with pictures of all the old glamour girls—Marilyn and Jane, Bette and Joan, Greta and Heddy—you name it, Honey had pictures of them. My mother loved old movies and I’d grown up on them.
As we took our seats in a booth, sliding into the neon pink faux leather seats, Grams looked around and smiled. “Whoever runs this knows what they’re doing. A simple step through the door and I’m smiling.”
I was about to say she was right when Honey himself showed up. He was wearing a pair of black leggings, a long rainbow print tunic over the top, and his long blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Honey was trim and fastidious.
“Elphyra, hon, hello! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you up this early.” He handed us both menus, then stopped, staring at Grams for a moment. “Pardon me for being nosy, but do I detect a resemblance between the two of you?”
Grams and I shared the family nose—smooth and roman—and we also shared a similar facial structure. Honey wasn’t wrong. The resemblance was there if you chose to look for it.
“Honey, this is my great-grandmother, Morgance MacPherson. She’s moving to the States from Scotland. She’ll be living in Port Townsend. Grams, I’d like you to meet Honey. He owns the restaurant. My father was her grandson.” I had no idea what Grams would say or do—I still didn’t know her well enough to gauge whether she was socially tolerant, but I figured I’d find out in the next few moments.
Grams gracefully extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Honey. I love your diner—the atmosphere is charming.”
Honey took Grams hand and elegantly leaned over, planting a kiss on the top of it. “Ms. MacPherson, I am charmed to meet you. Your granddaughter has made a good home for herself here. I hope you enjoy your move to our country, and your visit to Starlight Hollow.” Honey pointed to the menu. “Now, figure out what you’d like. Do you want coffee to start with?”
“I’ll have a triple shot vanilla latte, please. Iced,” I said.
“Of course you will,” Honey said. “Girl, you know all that caffeine can’t be good for you.” He tapped the order pad with his pencil.
“My granddaughter thrives on it,” Grams said, a twinkle in her eye. “As for me, I’ll start out with English breakfast tea.”
“Tea’s no better,” Honey said, arching his eyebrows. “All right, coffee and tea coming up. Do you want a few minutes before ordering?”
“Yes, and you can stop the running commentary every time I order.” I scowled, but then my expression slid. I couldn’t keep a straight face. Not with Honey.
“Now, girl, since I don’t hold breakfast shows, how else would I entertain you?” Honey wrinkled his nose, then bounced off with a grin.
After he left, Grams said, “He has more energy than all his customers combined. I’d like to catch one of his shows, if we can.”
“I’m sure you’ll have the chance to. Even if we can’t make one while you’re here, once you’re settled in your new home, you can come down for a weekend and we’ll go.” I paused, then asked, “So, how does my mother feel about you moving here?” I thought I knew the real answer, but wanted to see what Grams had to say.
“Your mother is as enthusiastic about me moving into her town as a canary watching the cat sit outside its cage. Your mother also needs help, my dear.” Grams shook her head. “When I say she isn’t strong, I’m not trying to criticize her. But it’s true. She was cushioned from the outer world for a long time. Malcolm used to write to me. By the time he met Catharine, his mother was focused on Diedre. She didn’t have time for him.”
“He and Mom loved each other a lot, didn’t they?”
“Yes. As I said last night, they met in high school. It was love at first sight. I knew it—I could tell from his letters. I took it upon myself to check out her family background. What I learned is that they were a fine, upstanding family who shielded their children from the problems of life as long as they could.”
“My mother didn’t learn how to cope with stress?”
