“Nope,” Annajane said, shaking her head obstinately. “You’ve got a whole lot of courting to do yet. Besides, I happen to love staying at the Pinecone Motor Lodge.”

Pokey looked at Mason thoughtfully. “Will you tell Sophie about her real father?”

“Eventually,” Mason said, reaching for Annajane’s hand. “When she’s old enough to process it. And hopefully before she hears it from somebody else. She does know that her biological mother lives down in Florida and that her mother couldn’t take care of her and thus gave her to me. She has a picture of Kristy, but at this point she hasn’t asked a lot of questions about her.”

“Do you ever hear from Kristy?” Pokey asked.

“No,” Mason said. “We kind of lost touch after her mother died and Kristy moved. The last time I talked to her, about two years ago, she’d gotten remarried. Her new husband is actually her supervisor at the airport, and he knows about Sophie. So I think that’s probably a good thing. She’ll have some stability in her life.”

“And she’s never asked to see Sophie?” Pokey said, shaking her head. “I can’t even imagine that.”

“Me neither,” Annajane agreed. “But then I haven’t had the challenges she’s had.”

“Kristy knows how to reach me if she wants to,” Mason said.

“Mason,” Pokey said, toying with her straw, “Did you think Mama’s reaction today was, well, odd?”

“She was furious that Dad didn’t leave her any stake in the company. I think it’s understandable that she’d be hurt,” Mason said. “I guess we all assumed he’d leave her controlling interest. Instead, he completely cut her out. I was stunned. Weren’t you?”

“I guess,” Pokey said. “Although, when you stop to think about it, Mama was never all that interested in or involved in what went on down at the plant. And we all knew he wanted you and Davis to run the company. I guess I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around all of it.”

“We all are,” Annajane said. “Imagine finding out your husband had a child with another woman—who was being raised as your grandchild?” Annajane said. “That’s a pretty big shocker.”

The waitress brought their food, and Pokey sighed happily as she contemplated her club sandwich and french fries. She dipped a fry in the fluted paper cup of ketchup and nibbled. Annajane reached across the table and helped herself to a fry, too.

“I wonder,” Pokey said, midbite, “if it really was a big shock to Mama that Daddy fooled around on her.”

“You think she knew?” Annajane asked.

“They were married for forty-five years,” Pokey reminded her. “Sallie was never naive. I can’t decide if she just chose not to notice, or if she knew and chose to look the other way.”

“Don’t guess we’ll ever know for sure,” Mason said.

50

Annajane found Voncile in the break room, eating her lunch at a small table in the corner of the room: a tuna-fish sandwich on neatly sliced and trimmed white bread, a huge dill pickle in a plastic baggie, and a small container of baby carrots. Two route drivers sat at a table in the opposite corner of the room, arguing about the merits of Fords versus Chevys.

“Annajane!” Voncile motioned her over. The older woman’s face was wreathed in smiles. Her hair had been freshly permed and colored, and she wore a muted navy print rayon dress.

“Mason tells me you have happy news,” Voncile said, her voice low. “Praise the Lord!”

“Thank you, Voncile,” Annajane said, twisting her engagement ring around to face her palm. “We’re not really making a public announcement yet, but I know Mason couldn’t wait to tell you himself.”

“He was grinning ear to ear when he came in on Monday morning,” Voncile said. “I don’t know when I’ve seen him that happy.”

Annajane laughed. “I’m pretty happy myself, to tell you the truth.”

Voncile sighed and shook her head. “That Celia sure had me fooled. I thought she was just about the nicest, sweetest girl Mason had ever dated—except for you, of course.”

“She fooled a lot of people,” Annajane commented.

“She took a nice check with her when she left, too,” Voncile said indignantly. “Some people have no shame.”

“Maybe so,” Annajane said. She watched as the two route drivers gathered up their fast food bags and tossed them in the trash on the way out of the room.

“Say, Voncile,” Annajane said, trying to sound casual. “Did you know anything about Glenn Bayless having heart problems before he had the heart attack that killed him?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Something came up today,” Annajane said vaguely. “And it started me wondering. So, had he had symptoms in the past?”

“Oh, yes,” Voncile said. “You know he had a spell here in the office, a few months before he passed. It about scared me half to death.”

“Really?” Annajane said, leaning closer. “I didn’t know that. When was this?”

She had to think. “I know it was summertime. One afternoon, he’d had a big steak lunch, probably at his Rotary meeting. He came back here, and his face was so pale; he looked awful. He swore he felt fine, but I knew he didn’t. I got him a glass of water and some antacids, but it didn’t seem to do much good. I’ll tell you, Annajane, I fussed at him so much that day, he threatened to fire me. He finally did call his cardiologist, Dr. McNamara, over in Pinehurst, and of course when the doctor heard his symptoms, he wanted to call an ambulance for Mr. Glenn. Instead, I drove him over to Pinehurst myself.”

“Was it a heart attack?” Annajane asked.

“I don’t think so. But you know how Mr. Glenn was. He was that vain about his age. Never wanted to admit anything was wrong. I’ll bet he never stayed home sick more than once or twice in all the years I worked for him.”

“Mason is the same way,” Annajane said. “Never gives in to a cold, flat denies the possibility he could ever get sick. So, Glenn had been seeing a cardiologist?”

“Sure,” Voncile said. “You know, I made Mr. Glenn’s appointments, business and personal. Even doctors, dentists, barbershop—everything. That way I kept everything on one calendar, so I could remind him. I made his appointments with Dr. Kaufman, and Dr. McNamara. And I got his prescriptions filled. I had to keep after him to take those pills every day.”

“For his heart condition?” Annajane asked.

“And his high blood pressure,” Voncile said. “We had the same prescription.”

Voncile folded and unfolded a paper napkin. “Annajane, why are you asking me all these questions about Mr. Glenn?” she asked. “He’s been gone all these years. Five years now. Are you going to tell me what happened at that meeting with the lawyers today? Mason looked kinda funny when you all got back from lunch.”

“I’d prefer you to hear it from Mason,” Annajane said.

Voncile’s face fell.

“All right,” Annajane said. “I know Mason had to get on a conference call after lunch. And I know he’d probably tell you this himself. So here it is. Glenn’s trust left equal shares of the company to his children, but not to Sallie. His four children: Mason, Davis, Pokey, and Sophie.”

Voncile raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying Sophie is Mr. Glenn’s child? Not Mason’s? My goodness, that must have taken everybody by surprise. But how can a five-year-old own part of the company?”

Annajane sat back in the hard plastic chair and regarded Voncile. She had the best poker face she’d ever seen.

“As her legal guardian, Mason will control Sophie’s share of the business until she comes of age when she’s twenty-one,” Annajane said.

Voncile processed that for a moment, then nodded her head slowly in understanding. “So, if Pokey and Mason, and Sophie, don’t want to sell off the company, they outvote Davis, is that right?”

“Essentially,” Annajane said.

“Praise the Lord!” Voncile said, raising her eyes heavenward. “My stomach has just been in knots all this week, thinking about what might happen to all of us if we got sold.”