THE CAMELLIA TAVERN

CHAPTER 7: A SURPRISE VISITOR

Wednesday, May 27

    "It smells delicious," Merritt calls from the living room.

    "Don't you dare come in here," Jacinda calls back from the kitchen.

    None of us are allowed in the kitchen when she's preparing one of these meals and, I suspect, having once walked in on the middle of her preparation and seeing what a giant mess it was, she prefers that we only see the final product.  It's always spectacular, so I certainly don't mind the mystery or the wait.

    Our old house isn't in the best shape, but when Jacinda moved in two years ago, the kitchen got an overhaul.  She also bought the very best in cookware and she gets her money's worth out of it any chance she can.  And, yes, living with a phenomenal cook is a huge perk.

    Gramps arrives at half-past seven and he's dressed as if he's eating at a fine dining restaurant which, I guess, given that Jacinda is making a three-course-meal, he sort of is.  He looks absolutely adorable but I don't tell him that.  I tell him that he looks positively dapper to which he replies, "And you look lovely, Milly Sue."

    I look down at my gray East Alabama State University t-shirt and jeans and tell him he's being far too kind. 

    We settle in for the first course which is a summer zucchini soup that is far better than it sounded to me upon first introduction.  The main course is beef tenderloin with tomato petals.

    Jacinda is about to hand out the dessert course when there is a knock at the front door.

    We all look to one another for some explanation.

    "Gangs all here," Jacinda says with a shrug.  "No idea who that could be."

    "I'll get it," Merritt says as she practically jumps out of her chair and bolts over to the front door.  She looks through the peephole and when she turns around, her mouth is wide open and her eyes are dancing with surprise.

    "Who is it?" I whisper, demanding to know who has prompted such a reaction from her. 

    She mouths something to us, but I can't make out the words.

    "Who?" I whisper once more.

    "Warrick Travers," Gramps says as he wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin.  He may be seventy-three, but his eyes and ears are better than mine are at twenty-one, apparently.

    Wait.  Did he say Warrick was at our front door?  Surely not!

    "Is it really?" I say to Merritt who smiles widely then opens the door giving me less than a second to come to terms with the fact that Warrick is standing on the other side of the door. 

  He's wearing blue jeans and an old t-shirt that says "Rocket City, Huntsville, AL"  It makes me wonder if he's from Huntsville.  It also makes me wonder how hot he looks under that t-shirt, which of course, is exactly what I should NOT be thinking. 

    He looks surprised to see the three of us around the dining room table and an overly excited Merritt grinning like a nutjob at him.

    "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to interrupt," he says to all of us.

    "Nonsense!" Merritt says cheerfully, "The more the merrier!"  I watch in nervous horror as she moves to the side and tries to invite him in.

    "No, I really don't want to intrude," Warrick says stiffly.  "I just came to speak to Milly."

    Merritt turns her head towards me, and I make sure not to look at her because I can almost guarantee she is grinning from ear to ear, making it impossible for me to keep a straight face.