Page 125 of It Runs in the Family

She nodded.

I grabbed Boone’s arm and pulled him back over to the rack of bracelets. “I know this feels like a waste of time,” I said, keeping my voice down. Marvin might be half-blind, but I didn’t think he was deaf, “but Marvin keeps impeccable records. There’s a good chance he has a record of who bought the other two bracelets.”

“Seven-dollar bracelets?” he asked skeptically.

“Believe it or not, yeah. Just wait.”

Two minutes later, Marvin said, “There they are—03470274BU.”

I hurried back over. Marvin was pointing to a line on the other page. “We sold all three within a few hours.”

“And you know who bought them?” Boone asked.

Marvin glanced up at him, his upper lip curling in distaste. “Who are you?”

Boone started to say something, but I wrapped a hand around his arm. “He’s my chaperone, Mr. Marvin.”

He squinted at Boone, then turned to me. “And who are you?”

“I already told you, Marvin,” Cynthia said. “This is Iris, Opaline Tatum’s granddaughter.”

“Opaline…” Marvin said, a far-off look filling his rheumy eyes. “She was a beauty in her day.”

Life had weathered my grandmother enough that it was unlikely anyone would call her a beauty now, but I’d seen photos of her when she was young, before she was stuck raising six small children and running a farm all on her own.

“Yeah,” I said, warmth filling my chest. “She was.”

“Why do you want to know who bought these bracelets?” he asked, squinting at me.

“Because my cousin wants one,” I said. “I was hoping to see if one of the women who bought them would be willing to resell it to me.”

His face scrunched. “I know bullshit when I hear it. Try again.”

Crap.

“It’s important,” I said, my tone serious. “I can’t tell you why, and I know you have no reason to believe me, but I’m asking you to trust me.”

Marvin seemed to consider it. “You say you’re one of Opaline’s grandkids? Are you one of the good ones or the bad?”

“One of the good,” Boone said confidently.

Marvin shot him a scowl that made it clear Boone’s assurance wasn’t worth two nickels.

“He’s right,” Cynthia said. “Miss Opaline says Iris is one of her best.”

His lips pressed together, a bit of spittle at the corner of his mouth. He made more mouth noises that made my stomach roil, but then he said, “I don’t give this information out to just anybody.” He looked aggravated. “You don’t want this for your evil cousin, do ya?”

“Billy? No. But I’d rather not say why I need it. I know it’s a lot to ask, but⁠—”

He waved a hand, irritation on his face. “I’ll give it to you. On one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You get your grandmother to have dinner with me.”

My mouth dropped open in shock.

“If this place were swarmin’ with bees, they’d be buildin’ a hive in your mouth,” he grumped. “Why is that so surprisin’? She’s been widowed for over forty years. There’s nothin’ wrong with me tryin’ to court her.”