Progressive Dinner Deadly

Chapter One-2-3

Myrtle murmured, “I strongly suspect that Jill likes everyone to feel sorry for her. She piles that misery on herself. You know, the whole ‘Poor Jill’ thing. But she sure does know how to clean a house. I’m going to ditch that Puddin of mine.”

“There will probably be thirty people there, if we include spouses,” Tippy was saying. “Are there three or four people who can volunteer to bring some sides in?”

A few hands went up. At the same time, the front door opened and Jill’s sister Willow came in. The hands drooped and then fell under the censorious eye of Tippy. No one wanted to mention Jill’s financial situation. Especially around Willow, who was sure to blame her brother-in-law for any money problems her sister might face.

Willow’s long, prematurely-gray hair swung around her shoulders. With her hair down, her black tunic over a long, ruffled black skirt, and the amulet around her neck, Willow looked like she’d escaped from a coven.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said in her low, sing-song voice. “Was that Jill I saw pulling out?”

Erma nodded, eyes dancing as she anticipated trouble. “Yes it was. She was off to clean somebody’s house.”

Willow’s face darkened.

Tippy jumped in with a quelling look at Erma. “We’re all hearing wonderful things about Jill’s housekeeping. It seems that she has a wonderful talent for hearth and home.”

Myrtle glanced quickly over at Blanche, who grimaced before her face resumed its usual placid mask.

Willow shook her head and fingered her amulet. “All this work isn’t good for her. She’s got two really draining jobs. She should be reconnecting with her spirit instead of scrubbing people’s bathrooms.”

Erma nodded sympathetically, avoiding Tippy’s quelling glare. “Which she could do if Cullen could go back to work. Such a shame about his disability and all,” said Erma, who sounded hopeful for some disability details, which Willow seemed unwilling to elaborate on. “But don’t worry. Even though Myrtle changed the book club into a supper club, and Jill took the main course, we’re all going to chip in with the sides so Jill can afford to host it.”

Tippy jumped in again in her continuing effort to keep control of the meeting. “Willow. I’d better fill you in. Myrtle suggested we change the book club to a supper club.” Myrtle clenched her teeth. “We’re starting it two weeks from today. Miles will have the hors d’oeuvres and drinks, Jill’s covering the main course, and Myrtle is hosting the dessert.”

Willow thought a moment. “What if I host a soup or salad course? It’ll keep the progressive dinner moving.”

“Great idea,” said Tippy. “That cements our plan for the first progressive dinner. The best part is that y’all all live on the same street; we can easily walk from the appetizers to the salads, to the main course, to the dessert. And maybe even enjoy a little wine along the way!” Tippy gave her tinkling laugh. “And thanks again to Myrtle for her brainstorm. To Myrtle!” she said, raising a glass of sweet tea.

“To Myrtle!” everyone chimed in, holding their tea aloft.

Myrtle was ready to trade in her sweet tea for something a bit stronger.