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En Famille
Chapter 19


“Helen, you want to come over for Sunday dinner?” Andy called. “Barney and Thelma Lou’re comin’.”
“Why, yes, Andy, I’d like that. You know what a terrible cook I am.”
Andy chuckled. “See you there, then. Sorry I cain’t give you a ride, but I’ve got a carful.”
“That’s alright. I’ll walk with Barney and Thelma Lou.”
“Alright, everyone, get in, and we’ll be off.”
When Andy pulled up in front of a neat white house instead of the jail, Miss Parker protested, “Wait a minute! This isn’t the jail.”
“Sunday dinner, Miss Parker! You cain’t eat it in jail.” He opened the car door for her with a smile. “Just you wait until you see what Aunt Bee has for us!”
Inside, Sydney looked around Andy’s house curiously. Neat as a pin, it was an unmistakably masculine house with unmistakably feminine accents. The biggest feature was a large stone fireplace lovingly handmade by someone—maybe by Andy himself. A table was set with dishes, and the delicious smell of a roast filled the air.
Aunt Bee was bustling into an apron. “Andy, you better add another leaf to the table!”
“Alright, Aunt Bee. Opie, give me a hand. Now, you three just sit down and relax! Ope, grab some extra silverware.”
In a few minutes, Helen and Barney came in talking and laughing with another young woman, not so pretty as Helen but fair and sweet-faced.
“Oh, hi, you’uns!” Andy called. “Thelma Lou, you met Jarod’s friends yet?”
“Jarod’s friends? Why, no, I haven’t.”
“Well, this is Miss Parker and Sydney and Broots. Y’all, this is Thelma Lou.”
“That’s my girl,” Barney chuckled.
Sydney and Miss Parker exchanged glances, perhaps wondering what such a sensible-looking woman saw in Barney. They both greeted her civilly.
“How do you know Jarod?” she inquired.
“We—ah—worked together,” Sydney answered.
Miss Parker barely restrained a snort and Broots a grin.
“That must have been nice. What a wonderful man. It was sad he had to leave so soon.”
“Very sad,” Miss Parker said with a tight smile. “We hate it that we missed him.”
“And what do you do, Miss Parker?”
“I…work security for a corporation.”
Thelma Lou’s eyes went wide. “Really? That sounds so exciting! Did Jarod do security with you?”
“Not exactly. He was in…planning and development.”
Could anything be more vague? It was vague to Thelma Lou, as was her nod. “Oh. And did you two do security?”
Broots shrugged. “Sort of. I do the technical side of things.”
“And I’m a psychiatrist,” Sydney added. “I sometimes consult with security.”
“That’s so interesting. I didn’t know big companies kept psychiatrists for consulting.”
“Neither did I.” Helen’s dark eyes were puzzled on Sydney. “That is unusual, isn’t it?”
“Our company is unusual,” Miss Parker answered for him, somewhat coldly.
“What does your company do?”
“A little of this and a little of that. A little of everything.”
“Mostly consulting,” Sydney said. Consulting also was usefully vague. People always nodded wisely without actually being any the wiser.
Helen, however, did not seem ready to take a smooth answer. Her mouth was just opening for another question when Aunt Bee called, “Dinnertime!”
There seemed to be no set places at the dinner table; everyone took what was nearest, though Andy sat at one end and Aunt Bee at the other. There was uncomfortable silence (on Miss Parker, Sydney, and Broots’ part) as Andy said a short grace, and then food was passed around. Roast beef so tender it fell apart, potatoes, carrots, and onions cooked in the roasting juices, peas, corn, fat, fluffy rolls… Sydney ate in appreciative silence, while Broots joined his exclamations of delight with the others’ and Miss Parker ate more than was her wont, though not enough for Aunt Bee. Conversation roamed around the small-town doings of Mayberry, with Opie chipping in his share of bright, boyish remarks. At the end, Aunt Bee brought out peach cobbler, and there were no sounds but forks scraping plates and sighs of contentment.
“Oh, Aunt Bee, that was the most wonderful meal I’ve had in a long time,” Helen smiled. “It might almost be worth learning how to cook, if it would end up like that.”
“I could teach you, Helen.”
“Oh, no. It wouldn’t end up like that. I know from experience. I’m hopeless.”
“But you sure are a good teacher!” Opie said.
“Thank you, Opie. Though that’s not what you thought at first, was it?”
Opie went a little red, but he grinned. “Aw, I was just a kid back then. I’m grown now and helping Paw with his cases, aren’t I?”
For some reason, Andy looked slightly uncomfortable. “Wa’al—uh—yeah. That’s right. Sydney, did you have all you wanted? Would you like more cobbler?”
“No, thank you. This has been delightful, Andy. It is many years since I have dined en famille.”
“’On famiya’? What’s that?” Barney asked. “I don’t think you’re goin’ to get any of that around here.”
Sydney chuckled. “It means ‘at home,’ or ‘with family.’”
“Oh. Spanish. I don’t speak Spanish. I’m pretty good with French. Parlay voos fransay.” He chuckled. “Yep. Me and French. We’re old pals.”
“That was French,” Miss Parker said. “Sydney is Belgian.”
Thelma Lou, perhaps to cover for Barney’s gaffe, said sympathetically, “You don’t have family, Sydney?”
“No.” It was all he said, but it was clear he wasn’t going to say any more.
“Well!” Aunt Bee said, “I’ll just get some of these dishes out of the way.”
“Let me help, Aunt Bee,” Thelma Lou offered, picking up her plate and Barney’s.
“Oh, no—”
“Yes, let us,” Helen urged. “Dishes is something I can do, and it’ll go much faster.”
They began helping Aunt Bee clear the dishes. A slight glance Helen gave Miss Parker seemed to indicate an expectation that she would help as well, but Miss Parker sat right where she was. Sydney could almost see her wanting to say, “I’m a prisoner, not a guest!”









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