Finger Lickin' Dead by Riley Adams Read Free Book Online

sobbed on him the last time, was not what he wanted to do. But he wasn’t hearing a word of Ben’s tirade now—he was so focused on trying to keep the sudden, overwhelming hatred under tight control.
    “I know. I shouldn’t take it personally, right? I knew you’d say something reasonable like that, Holden. You’re always such a good guy. But I can’t help but take it personally. ‘The barbeque’s texture is the consistency of sandpaper. Good thing the tea is good—you’re going to need gallons of it to wash the meat down.’ Grr!” Ben clinched his fists together.
    Holden pressed his lips together.
    “I knew you’d say that. I knew you’d want me to be a professional about it. And now that I think about it, I guess you knew all along who the critic was—you were just being a pro and keeping quiet about it. That was real decent of you, considering he booted you right out of your job.
    “Okay.” Ben gave a heaving sigh, then thrust out a beefy hand. “Sorry to vent like this, Holden. You’re always a gentleman. Great role model. Thanks. I’ll . . . uh . . . leave you to your shopping.” He looked doubtfully at the baked beans can in Holden’s hand. “You know you’re always welcome to red beans and rice at Aunt Pat’s. On the house. Or baked beans—your choice.”
    As Ben stomped back to his shopping cart with Adam still on the brain, Holden gripped the can of beans until his fingers were white.
    The lunch crowd was gone, the restaurant tidied up. And it was time, after a couple of hours of holding court in the dining room, for Lulu to put her feet up and relax for a little while. At two thirty every afternoon, Lulu had a standing appointment with the rocking chairs, some iced tea, and the Labradors, B.B. and Elvis, on the restaurant’s front porch.
    Lulu plopped down in one of the big, wooden chairs. The spacious porch was one of Lulu’s favorite parts of Aunt Pat’s. It held several picnic tables and three rocking chairs with high backs and checkered cushions. At night in good weather, they’d stack up the tables and chairs and the bands played right there on the porch. The succulent smell of barbeque mixing with the bluesy music pulled people off Beale Street and right into the restaurant.
    Right now, though, the porch was nice and quiet. There was a lull on Beale Street, too, as people headed back to their offices or hotel rooms with full stomachs after a big lunch (there wasn’t any such thing as a small lunch on Beale). The large ceiling fans rotated lazily. Lulu leaned back in the rocker and nodded off to sleep.
    It seemed like just seconds later, but it was more like forty-five minutes, when the screen door’s banging slam woke Lulu up with a start. The school bus had dropped off her granddaughters, Ella Beth and Coco, at the end of the street. Every day, Ben and Sarah’s girls spent their afternoons at the restaurant—doing homework, replenishing the paper towel rolls on the tables, and generally being good stewards of the Aunt Pat’s legacy.
    Nine-year-old ponytailed Ella Beth was the perpetrator of the slamming screen door, but it was practically impossible to upset Lulu. Ella Beth threw her arms around Lulu and Lulu gave her a sleepy hug back. “I am so glad to be at Aunt Pat’s and away from school!”
    Lulu pulled back and studied her face. “Did something bad happen at school today?”
    Ella Beth’s twin, Coco, walked onto the porch more sedately. Coco, whose real name was Cordelia, as she liked reminding everyone, was nine going on twenty-one. She leaned over to pat B.B., who gave her a sloppy Labrador kiss that made her squeal. Wiping it off with her sleeve, she said, “Nothing happened at school. Nothing ever happens at school. But we had a bunch of pop quizzes today and Ella Beth didn’t know her facts about the water cycle. So it wasn’t that great of a day for her.”
    Ella Beth made a face at Coco and said, “Sassy!”
    Lulu winked at Ella Beth. “We all have