Nondini Ray

Theproblem was that they didn't know what to do. They sat there on theporch as the sun put on a garrulous display of oranges and reds behindthe tree line. The crickets began to chirrup in the pachysandra and thefirst stars pricked the darkness directly overhead.Claire announced that she was tired and wished to return to her hotelroom and a warm bath. Walt suggested that they reconvene at the Blue Catthe following morning. He advanced the optimistic notion that thingsoften stood out clearer in the light of a new day. Grace seconded him onthat, but without a great deal of conviction. What else could one do ina hopeless present but hold out hope for tomorrow? Marcia suspected thatcome morning things wouldn't look any clear. They'd only have lostanother day. And Phoebe, like a space capsule floating off into emptyspace, would be that much further away.* * *Marcia, the depressive realist, was never so sorry in her life to beproved right. As she expected, nothing became clearer in. "Martha, " said Louisa, "This is Jim Johnson. He's deputy sheriff, comeasking about Jake."Martha seemed slightly wary, but she curtsied slightly. "Pleased to meetyou, Mr. Johnson."I was taken aback at her curtsy, and it must have showed. When introduced,most women I had met just nodded their heads, or occasionally, like Louisa,shook hands.Louisa grinned. "We're a French family. My husband liked the old manners,and he thought Martha should use them. I used to, as well, but I guess I'vegiven it up. Martha still acts the lady though."Martha blushed slightly. It made her even prettier. Bob Simms had saidMartha was a bit plain, but I wondered if he had not seen her recently. Thisgirl was a stunning beauty, tall, slim, red haired, and green eyed, withhigh cheeks and full lips. I noticed her nice poised figure, slim waist andhigh bust, and the graceful confident way she carried herself. Hermovements were delicate and feminine. She was also quite well dressed, nohomespun. All was store.
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