I was speaking quietly but I know my eyes were narrowed into very angry slits. I think she shivered, but that might have been my imagination. “A ver... special one,” she said. “Trust me soon-to-be ex-wife, we’re going to war. The courts will be deciding this one. I will not accept being a mere uncle to the little girl I have loved as my own daughter for thirteen years. The only thing that would cut me out of her life, as you are clearly conspiring to do, would be for me to hear from her that. And as far as Miz. Muriel was concerned, she had her hand in on the fool bizness her own self, if you asked me. I knew it, because I had to pick up medicines and such for her—and I did much of the cleanin’ around the staff areas of the inn. I don’t know why she just didn’t tell folks—especially her brother, Mr. Martin, why she was gittin’ so draggy—and why her husband, Buddy Roberts, was off in Memphis playin’ his saxophone every hour of the day he could get gigs. I don’t know why she let folks. More

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