The Potluck Club by Linda Evans Shepherd and Eva Marie Everson

knocker on the red-painted door. I could hear the hardwood floors squeak as Evangeline came to answer. She opened the door only a crack. Intriguing.
    I smiled my best Lisa Leann smile into Evangeline’s frown. Evangeline spoke first. She sounded exasperated. “The meeting is off. Didn’t you get the message?”
    “Yes, I did. But when I heard you had company, and me with all this hot barbecued brisket and homemade apple cinnamon bread, I had to drop by. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
    Evangeline stared at my tray. The door opened a bit wider as she smiled what appeared to be a tense smile at my lovely presentation. “How thoughtful. Let me just take it here at the door, so as not to disturb my guest. I would invite you in, but . . .”
    In the background, I caught a glimpse of a young woman making her way down a mahogany staircase. “Who’s at the door, Aunt Evie?”
    Aunt Evie? The girl’s steps landed her behind the half-closed door. Before Evangeline could react, the door had swung wide open. And there before me stood Evangeline’s very own, very tall, and very pregnant niece. Ta-da! Mystery revealed.
    I was delighted. This young woman was tall and practically glowed with white porcelain skin and bright blue eyes, which were lined dramatically with black liner and heavy mascara. Her lids were polished with blue, silver, and ivory shadow that helped create a wide-eyed charm. Her cheeks shimmered with a rosy blush, and I loved her pouty lips. They were heavily outlined in deep maroon with a luscious rose filling. She could teach the other Potluckers a few things about makeup, I can tell you. She was dressed in a long black dress—slimming, but not enough to hide her blossoming belly.
    “You must be Evangeline’s niece,” I chimed. “I heard you were here, so I thought I’d drop by to bring you some of my hot barbecued brisket.”
    “Wow, and just in time for lunch too,” the girl sang. “Aunt Evie, invite her into the kitchen. I’m starving.”
    Before Evangeline could stop me, I was following my invitation down the hall. As I proudly carried my offering, I couldn’t help but notice that Evangeline’s home was impressive. It was full of mahogany antiques and quaint maroon velvet sofas with large original paintings of mountain meadows full of Indian paintbrushes and columbines. Lovely.
    The kitchen was charming too. Of course, it had been updated, and I simply loved the whitewashed wooden cabinets with their glass fronts. Through the glass, I could see rosy china and Depression glass stacked in neat arrangements. I adored the big iron sink and the oak kitchen table decked with hand-crocheted placemats of Dutch-blue yarn.
    “Evie, this is truly charming,” I said, turning to see her pale face.
    “Thank you for bringing over the meal,” she said. “I’d invite you to stay, but you must be busy.”
    “Oh no, I’d love to join you,” I said as I removed my leather jacket and slung it over the kitchen chair I was claiming as my own.
    The niece busied herself setting the table, while I began to unwrap my gourmet lunch. Evie seemed at a loss for what to do but soon found herself pouring the tea into glasses of ice and setting butter on the table.
    “Leigh, honey, put the sugar on the table too,” Evie said.
    Leigh. Now I had a name to go with this beautiful young woman. Of course, her hair was a bit too apple red, not to mention a bit too spiky for my taste, but she’d certainly fit in with my Nelson’s party friends. And she looked to be Mandy’s age, and pregnant too. Seeing this girl made my heart pang in longing for my own daughter and soon-to-come first grandchild. Maybe this was God’s offering to me. A gift to fill in for my daughter who was so far away. But I couldn’t jump to conclusions; I’d have to wait to see.
    I had been wrong about the potatoes. Instead, Evangeline reheated a tasty rice dish, a perfect complement to the barbeque, though a nice salad would have enhanced the meal.
    We