The Fish Fry and The Letter

As strange as it may seem, it was at a family fish fry that the little girl first suspected that the Haddocks might be descendants of royalty.  All that day Grandmother Louise had been distracted by a letter that she had been carrying around in her apron pocket since morning.  It was later that evening at the fish fry that the contents were made known.

Nearly every summer Saturday night, most of the uncles, aunts and cousins would gather just behind Grandma Louise’s house in an area along the dirt path that the little girl knew so well.  The underbrush had been cleared away, with just the older hardwoods left to shade the picnic area.  Years ago, several members of the family had pitched in to help build a brick barbecue grill under the trees. They had also built half a dozen sturdy picnic tables.  Even the children had helped by painting them.

The nearby lake from where the fish came was built by Mr. Walter Williams.  For the little girl’s daddy, it had been love at first sight when he had seen it.  On long walks, he would tell his daughter that there was something almost heavenly about the trees’ reflections along the water’s edge.  Eventually, he purchased the lake.  Ever since, weekend fish fries had become almost commonplace.

Generally, it took all day to catch enough fish to feed more than 30 relatives!    Homemade French fries, cole slaw and hushpuppies completed the outdoor feast.  Everyone agreed that bream, bass and catfish all tasted best when fried in a huge metal pan on top of the grill.  It was while her son was turning the fish that Louise Craine decided to pull out the letter she had received earlier in the week to share with her granddaughter.

“Sugar, I’ve got something to show you,” the grandmother announced as she carefully unfolded the legal size envelope with its foreign stamps.

Although the little girl did not fully understand the contents of the letter written in legal jargon, her grandmother had summarized each paragraph for her.  Apparently, Ida Louise Craine of Jones County, Georgia, had been named in someone’s will in England.  The letter was a request to attend the reading of the will at a castle.

“Grandma, are you going to go to England?”

With a slight sense of regret in her eyes, the grandmother replied, “No, child, I can’t afford to.  But don’t forget about this letter, you hear? ‘Cause one day I want you to go find out what this was all about.”

“I will, Grandma, I promise.”