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Mary Clay

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Blademaster of Norda
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Mary Clay



Bike Week Blues (A DAFFODILS Mystery)

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Murder is the Pits (A Daffodils® Mystery)

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Murder in the Stacks (A Daffodils® Mystery)

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The Turtle Mound Murder (A DAFFODILS Mystery)

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Starpeople: The Sirian Redemption

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Blogs by Mary Clay

The DAFFODILS® Blog
9/17/2011 3:15:20 PM
Priscilla, Rich, and Nana
Penny Sue here. The last two days have blown my mind, and you all know a Leo like me is not easily surprised. Okay, I’ll start at the beginning. First, Rich and I went to Lake Lanier for dinner on the houseboat with Judge Daddy and his new lady friend, Priscilla. This was the first time I’d met Ms. Prissy and Daddy’d actually had a chance to speak with Rich. The only time Daddy saw Rich was when he was half dead in BIKE WEEK BLUES, so they surely didn’t have a meeting of the minds then.

Moving on, Priscilla and Daddy greeted us with hugs and drinks on the deck of the houseboat. Good start to the evening. Daddy said a caterer was in the boat’s miniscule kitchen putting the final touches on dinner—my favorite, Chicken Cordon Bleu. Better still. How sweet of Daddy to remember and go to so much trouble. Honestly, I expected we’d eat some fish he’d caught. That’s when Priscilla piped in and said she hired the caterer since she was a terrible cook and Warren (Judge Daddy) had mentioned Cordon Bleu was my favorite. Yet another plus, she was a terrible cook and hired caterers—my kind of gal!

Priscilla completely won me over later in the evening when she told me she and Warren were very much in love, but planned to live together and not marry. She had children and a good inheritance, and Daddy was in a sound financial boat. So, to keep it simple, they’d just keep the finances separate and live together. That was another check mark in the fabulous column. But the clincher, after dinner and a few glasses of wine, came Priscilla’s declaration, “I don’t intent to try to mother you. You’re a grown woman, and I knew your mother. She was a terrific lady and I’d never presume to take her place.”

Glory be! This lady was fabulous. She wore designer clothes, had her own money, didn’t want to marry Daddy and couldn’t cook, so hired caterers! How could a person ever have a better pseudo-stepmother? Impossible. Daddy had my blessing. I knew he’d been terribly lonely since Momma’s death.

While Priscilla and I got acquainted, Daddy and Rich were doing the same. I cut my eyes at them from time to time and all seemed to be going well. When we finally left, Daddy hugged me and whispered, “He’s a fine man…, for once.” Honestly, Daddy could have left off the “for once.” Just because I’d been married three times doesn’t mean I can’t catch a keeper, and one of the three was Daddy’s choice, so he didn’t have any room to talk! In spite of Daddy’s dig, I was very pleased with the evening. Things were finally coming together, Praise the Lord. Rich and I went back to the hotel feeling very happy.

Rich left the next morning to tend to Hazel, and I called a cab to take me to Atlanta. Nana had left a message that she could see me at ten. The cab let me out at a small, pristine house with beautiful flowers. The whole place seemed to glow. It was so impressive I tipped the cabby an extra five, got his phone number and asked him to pick me up when I called. Nana answered the door and I nearly fainted. It was the lady at the Ritz who’s stroked my cheek!

Nana seemed slightly surprised, but not blown away like I was. As a psychic, I guess she was used to this stuff. She invited me in and motioned to a chair at the kitchen table that was laid out with napkins and silverware. A carafe, mugs and a large coffee cake were in the center of the table. Nana took a chair across from me and arched a brow, holding a knife over the cake. I nodded. “Coffee?” she asked as she handed the cake to me.

“Yes ma’am, black,” I mumbled. As she filled the mugs, I ventured, “Didn’t I see you in the Ritz bathroom yesterday? As a psychic, I guess this kind of stuff is commonplace to you, but it blows my mind. I was trying to get your phone number when you stroked my cheek.”

Nana shoved the mug at me. “I am NOT PSYCHIC. People get that mixed up all of the time. I have some connections on the other side, but I AM NOT PSYCHIC!”

Eyes wide, I took a sip of the steaming brew. “I understand mediumship. In fact, I live only thirty miles from a whole town of mediums—Cassadaga, Florida—and have friends there. My sorority sister, Katherine, said you’re wise and insightful, I just assumed that meant psychic. I’m sorry if I offended you. I have a couple of questions that I’d love your opinion on.”

“Realize, I don’t know everyone on the other side, is there someone in particular you want to contact? My people may not give you good advice,” Nana said.

“My mother. Do you think you can contact my mother?”

Nana took a sip of coffee, leaned back and closed her eyes. She was silent for a long time then her eyes popped open. “A woman’s here who claims to be your mother.” Nana cocked her head, listening. “Does a pink flamingo lamp mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” I shouted, heart thumping like a snare drum. “It’s a lamp Momma purchased shortly before her death. It’s in my bedroom at the beach!”

“Well, I guess it’s your Momma alright. What do you want to know?”

I asked about Daddy’s new relationship as well as my future with Rich. Nana conveyed that Momma sent Priscilla to Daddy because she could see how lonely he was. It was time for him to retire and have some fun. On Rich, Nana said we had much in common and would eventually make a good match. But, there were rocky roads ahead. I should concentrate on my studies (I took that to mean the PI stuff) and help my true friends with their new venture. (Ruthie’s bookstore, I surmised.) After that, Nana drained her mug and grinned, signaling an end to the reading.

I dug a wallet out of my Louis Vuitton purse and asked how much I owed her. She said, “Nothing, darlin’. I’m happy to help when I can.” She glanced at the clock over the refrigerator. “If there’s nothing else, it’s time for my TV show.”

“Well, I’ll run along. I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to see me. Hearing from Momma means a lot.” I sniffed back tears. “I’ll call a cab from the porch where my cell gets a better signal. I don’t want to keep you from your program.”

We stood and Nana wrapped her arms around me. Electricity shot up my spine. She stepped back and stroked my cheek again. “You are a good girl. Now, don’t forget it.”

Tears were on the verge of spouting like a geyser. It was all I could do to mutter, “Thank you,” as I rushed out the door. I stood on the porch for several minutes staring at her flowers through a film of tears. There was no doubt that Nana was a very special person who’d truly contacted my mother on the other side. —Penny Sue


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More Blogs by Mary Clay
• The DAFFODILS® Blog - Saturday, September 24, 2011
•  The DAFFODILS® Blog - Saturday, September 17, 2011  
• The DAFFODILS® Blog - Friday, September 16, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Wednesday, September 14, 2011
• The DAFFODILS® Blog - Monday, September 12, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Wednesday, September 07, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Wednesday, August 31, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Saturday, August 27, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Friday, August 26, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Thursday, August 25, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Thursday, August 25, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Wednesday, August 17, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Monday, August 15, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Monday, August 15, 2011
• The DAFFODILS BLOG - Monday, August 15, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Sunday, August 14, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Sunday, August 14, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Sunday, August 14, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Sunday, August 14, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Saturday, August 13, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Saturday, August 13, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Saturday, August 13, 2011
• The DAFFODILS Blog - Saturday, August 13, 2011


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