Hell On Heels(74)

“I like cheese too,” she informed me between bites.
“Would you like me to get you some cheese?” I smiled, starting to understand her game.
“Nope.” She grinned. “Maybe later. What’s your name, sweet potato? Mine’s Miss Sally.” She extended a chicken grease covered hand.
I gingerly took it. “I’m Dixie.” I retrieved my hand and wiped it discreetly on my jeans.
“Oooo, what a pretty name for a pretty girl. I used to know a sweet little thing named Dixie a long time ago.”
“I suppose in the South Dixie's a common name,” I said as I took her now empty plate and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. Miss Sally could put back some food for being such a little thing. That plate had been full.
“No,” she mused. “Not really. She was a darling little girl, like sunshine.”
“Can I get you something else to eat? Some cheese?” I asked as I searched the crowd for Miss Evelyn. Steve sat curled at my feet.
“No, thank you.” A tired look of sadness passed over her features. “She was such a happy little girl. I loved her.”
“Who?” I asked, distracted by my search.
“Little Dixie,” she replied, lost in thought. “She was a precious thing.”
I gave her my full attention. She was lonely. The least I could do was listen to her. It was odd to hear about another Dixie. I’d never come across anyone with my name before. “Do you still see her?”
“Oh heavens no,” she said. “She died. Saddest funeral I’ve ever been to.” She shook her head, her voice lost all of its spark. “Never found her little body. I don’t think her momma was ever the same after that.”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what to say. Clearly little Dixie’s death still affected Miss Sally to this day.
“I like cake more than I like chicken,” she said slowly as a mischievous smile lit her eyes.
I was grateful for the change of subject, but her abrupt emotional turnaround made me curious again about her mental state. “Would you like me to get you some cake?” I used her napkin to wipe some chicken grease from her chin.
“You got me all figured out, sugar dumplin’.” She giggled. “But no, if I’m gonna have cake, I need to get my fanny up and get it myself. Give an old lady a hand.”
She reached out and I gently pulled her to her feet. She took my face in her hands and kissed my nose.
“Miss Sally?” I asked as she began her trek to the dessert table. “Do you know where I could find Miss Evelyn?”
“The new gal?”
“New?” I was surprised. For some reason I’d been under the impression Miss Evelyn was from here. It wasn’t anything she said. . .it was just what I’d assumed.
“Oh yes, sugar pie, she moved here about two weeks ago with her nurse, Rhonda.” Miss Sally shook her head and chuckled. “That Rhonda can play some poker. She won nine dollars off me the other night and I cheat!” She chuckled with delight and slapped her thighs. “If they’re not out here they’ll be out back. Miss Evelyn kinda keeps to herself. Come back and see me, pretty little Dixie.”
As she beelined to her cake, I thought about Grandpa’s cryptic advice. The old ones have wisdom. Learn to dance. . .was it the dance at the college? Was the dance with Miss Sally important? I looked around and scanned the area for Angels or Demons and sensed nothing. I’d be hard pressed to find any wisdom in Miss Sally’s diatribe about chicken and cheese and long lost little girls who shared my name, but I sure did like her.

Chapter 27
 
Miss Evelyn stood very still on the steps of the wraparound porch of the senior center and watched our approach. A happy smile played on her lips and her violet eyes danced. For a brief moment I could swear she was a young woman—a blindingly beautiful young woman. I blinked my eyes and she was old again. It must have been the angle of the sun or my recently acquired concussion. Blanche grabbed my hand.
“She’s so pretty it’s weird,” she muttered.
“I know."
She was tall and regal. Her long grey hair hung loose and blew gently in the breeze. She looked like a Grecian goddess even in her lavender housedress and slippers.
“Hello girls.” She smiled warmly. “I’m so glad you came back.”
“We found Steve, I mean Lucky,” I stammered.
“You know,” she mused. “I think Steve is a very fitting name for my wolf. From now on she shall be known as Steve.”
Steve woofed in dismay. My eyes shot to Miss Evelyn’s in wonder. “Did she understand you?”
“Animals are much smarter than you think. Oftentimes far superior to their human counterparts.” Steve’s tail wagged in approval. “Would you young ladies like to come to my home for some tea?”