Posey Fontaine. Her name alone evokes the unique beauty that is the old south...moss draped live oaks, grand antebellum mansions...
Posey is in one of my bridge groups (group count is now up to six for a game I insist I'm not addicted to...) this one located in Charleston, South Carolina. She could charm the "blue out of the sky" to quote a favorite southern writer down here. She always looks nice - smartly dressed; hair in place; flawless skin She lost her husband Felix three years ago and now plays bridge EVERY day.
I hadn't played in this game since last year but when I walked into the church assembly room where the game is held, Posey came right up to me and said, "Whale-cum bay-uk, sweetie! We've missed y'all!" This after being gone for a year. "How y'all doin'. How's y'husband's new hee-up?" The hip is a year old.
I sat with her while she finished her ham salad sandwich - homemade and ground from her famous recipe baked ham, basted with coke and (lots of ) bourbon.
So when Peggy (my partner here who's actually a Yankee from Rhode Island) and I played against Posey and Joyce we were in 3NT, with yours truly the declarer. Peggy laid down her hand and the table collectively sighed at the SEVEN diamonds she displayed. Believe it or not - I know this is a hard one - but after the Ace and King were knocked out I played my Jack to low in dummy instead of overtaking with the Queen and...whoops... I HAD NO ENTRIES BACK. Seven diamonds might as well have been seven lumps of coal. We went down FOUR!
Posey was very upset by this turn of events. She gently put her hand on my arm and said, "I am just so sorray. I just hate doin' this to y'all." She felt so badly I thought SHE might cry. I left the table consoling HER!
...or did I just get played by that legendary southern charm??