Poker Posse 1: Looking at Rose (3 page)

Rose roared with laughter at the thought of her and her friends taking the stage at the strip club. Their mothers would glower at the male audience while the girls danced and peeled off clothes. “I can see you and Miss Mabel slapping wandering hands.”

Viola couldn’t help but chuckle. “Betty Jo would be rewiring the sound system, while Lucy would set off the fire alarms.”

She was laughing so hard, Rose had a difficult time fitting the fixed battery cable onto the post. “And Miss Rae—”

Her mother groaned. “Lordy, Raelene would be up on the stage with y’all showing her Arabella the right way to bump and grind.”

Rose didn’t doubt for one second that would be exactly what Ari’s mama would be doing. A final twist of the wrench, and she was finished. Still chuckling, Rose grabbed the bad connector, her tools, and the rag, and slammed the hood shut. “I can see her doing that, Mama. And Miss Mabel and Miss Lucy fussin’ her out with every beat.”

Viola slid behind the wheel of her car and turned the key. The engine rumbled to life. Through the open garage door, Rose could see the streetlights had come on despite the lingering summer twilight.

“Thank you, honey.” Viola smiled.

Rose leaned down and let her mother hug her through the open window of the car. She pressed a kiss to her mom’s cheek. “Love you, Mama. Have fun with the ladies.”

“You have some fun too. Talk to the girls. See about finding someplace fun to explore, even if you have to drive into Savannah.”

Rose doubted any of her friends would be up for something like that tonight. “We’ll see.”

Her mother pulled out of the garage and down the drive. As the door rolled noisily back into place, Rose turned her thoughts to Ibraham. She couldn’t see him in the Fire Hose, where all the firefighters, EMTs, and local sheriffs hung out. That would be like dropping a black panther in among puppies. Was he the kind of man to frequent a place like the Palace? And what would he do if she were to appear on stage. A performance meant only for him but done in front of dozens of curious onlookers?

Heat stirred in her belly. Her breasts ached, and her nipples grew tight, pressed against her plain cotton bra. Between her thighs she could feel the tingle start. She cursed, tossing the tools and parts onto the workbench to be sorted later. She needed a shower. Now. But not a cold one. Nuh-uh, she had every intention of utilizing her fantasies to the fullest extent.

If she was late to meet her friends, so what. She had the desserts. Chocolate smoothed all ruffled feathers.

* * * *

Viola Whitman sighed at the cards she held. Two of hearts. Eight of diamonds. A look at the community cards laid out in front of Betty Jo Lipton made it clear. She had a handful of nothing. When her turn came, she shook her head. “Fold.”

Betty Jo chuckled and laid down the winning hand. Across from her, Lucy Krikkel grimaced and tossed her cards into the middle of the green felt-covered table. “I swear, Betty Jo, if I have any luck at all, it’s nothin’ but bad.”

Viola pushed her cards toward Lucy, as did the other two ladies at the table. After fifty-odd years, Viola was well used to Lucy’s tendency to exaggerate. Just as she was used to Mabel’s habit of bossiness, Raelene’s flirtatiousness, and Betty Jo’s instigating ways.

Strawberry-blonde Betty Jo stacked her winnings onto her growing pile of chips and asked, “What has your knickers in a twist now, Lucy?”

Lucy gathered the cards and began to shuffle. “It’s Helena. My girl needs to get a life.”

As Viola took a sip of her sweet tea, Raelene gave a sexy and suggestive chuckle. “Did she walk in on you and Alan having video sex again?”

The tea went down the wrong way, leaving Viola sputtering and coughing. Across from her, Mabel did the same.

Betty Jo rolled her blue eyes, then gave Viola a couple of whacks on the back to stop her choking and corrected her friend, “Raelene, it isn’t video sex, it’s cybersex.” To Viola, she asked, “You gonna live, Vi?”

Viola nodded, gave a final cough or two, and blinked the tears from her eyes. “Y-yes.”

Betty Jo looked at the platinum blonde dabbing at the tear-smeared mascara under her golden eyes. “How ’bout you, Mabel?”

Mabel nodded, then croaked, “Raelene, Arabella would be shocked if she could hear you.” She tossed her ante for the next hand into the center of the table.

A snort, much like the one Viola’s late husband used to make when he slept, left Rae’s lips as she added her ante to the pot. “My girl wouldn’t know what cybersex was if it came up and bit her on the butt. Arabella should have been a Catholic nun the way she avoids anything related to sins of the flesh. Instead, as a good Southern Baptist, she just sucks the fun right outta life. My life.”

Viola winced at the cutting yet accurate assessment of Rae’s daughter’s personality. Ari was a nice girl, a bit on the prudish side, but considering Rae’s tendency to attach herself to men—

Lucy, in her typical rebel fashion, jumped to Ari’s defense. “That is not so. Ari is a sweet girl, Rae. Considering what you’ve put her through, you should count yourself lucky that your only child even talks to you.”

True to her vibrant red hair, Rae did not let that comment pass unassailed. “What I put her through? What exactly did I do to my daughter that could be construed as harmful? Arabella was educated in the finest private school her daddy’s money could buy until he went belly-up on the stock market. She’s vacationed all over the world and lived on practically every continent, including Antarctica, since she was born. How is that a hardship, I ask you?”

Desperate to keep the tiff from escalating into a full-blown battle, Viola interjected, “Now, Raelene, Lucy isn’t saying you’ve mistreated your girl. We know you love her to death, but it can be hard on a child when her mama is up and marrying a new man every few years.” She looked at the cards Lucy had dealt her—king of clubs and nine of hearts—and watched her flip over the first house card, king of diamonds, before Viola added, “Why when you broke your hip four years ago, Ari came right home and helped nurse you back to health.”

Raelene nodded, the flush of anger leaving her cheeks. “Yes she did. But then she didn’t leave.” She checked her hold cards as well before looking at the other ladies. “I may be on the high end of forty, but I certainly don’t need a keeper. And I definitely do not need a prissy little spinster hanging around interruptin’ my courtin’.”

The moment Mabel rolled her eyes, Viola’s stomach began to knot. She knew Mabel wasn’t going to let Rae’s little white lie pass, and the fireworks that might likely follow. “You are fifty-eight if you’re a day, Raelene Hewitt-Jones-Sparks-Smythe-el Hassim,” Mabel declared.

Betty Jo didn’t look up from her cards. “Hewitt.”

Mabel slapped down the joker and ace of hearts on the table, then scowled at the strawberry blonde who’d been winning all night. “I said Hewitt.”

Betty Jo nodded. “Yes, but you forgot Rae up and remarried Leroy Hewitt before the man had the good sense to get himself struck by lightning on the ninth hole at Augusta. So her last names are Hewitt-Jones-Sparks-Smythe-el Hassim-Hewitt.

“That does not change the fact that she is fifty-eight not forty-nine, as she’s so fond of fibbing to her gentlemen callers. And she should not call Arabella a spinster. The girl is only twenty-eight.”

Rae pursed her lips, furious at being called out, and dropped her cards, the king of hearts and two of spades, faceup on the table, glared at Mabel, and scathingly responded, “At least my girl is two years younger than your Mirabeth, so Arabella’s just barely on the shelf, whereas your daughter—”

Betty Jo interrupted again. “But Mirabeth’s been married, Rae, so she can’t be considered a spinster.”

The knot in her belly grew bigger the second Viola spotted Mabel’s icy glare. She leaned forward and nudged Betty Jo’s arm. “We agreed never to discuss that. You know how Mabel—”

Voice full of mayoral authority, Mabel decreed, “Mirabeth’s indiscretion isn’t up for discussion.”

“Well, you started it,” Rae accused.

Betty Jo corrected, “No, actually Lucy started it.”

Lucy slapped down the deck of cards. “I most certainly did not.”

Much as she hated to agree when Betty Jo was pickin’, Viola grimaced and reminded Lucy, “Actually you did. You were complaining about Ellie interrupting you and Alan when you were having cybersex—”

“We weren’t having cybersex. We were having sex, and my girl knocked on the door and started asking if I wanted collards or corn as a side dish for the fried chicken she’d made for dinner.” Lucy shook her head and continued, “Poor Alan jumped outta bed so fast he sprained his back. We didn’t even get to our big finish.”

Mabel frowned at her. “When are you going to marry that poor man, Lucy? You have played hot and cold with him for nigh on thirty-three years.”

Viola had to agree. “Not to mention givin’ birth to his son and daughter. Why poor Harlen ran off to the marines the second he turned eighteen and has barely visited. You’re lucky Helena didn’t take up with some man in Savannah when she was in college like Mirabeth did.”

“Vi.” Betty Jo tilted her head toward Mabel.

Mabel’s stony expression had Viola hastening to make amends. “I’m sorry, Mabel. I don’t believe anyone thinks any less of your Mirrie for runnin’ off to Vegas to marry that Yankee. Why how was she to know Parker was a little light in the loafers?”

From the way her blue eyes grew icy and she sat straighter in her chair, Mabel didn’t take the reminder well. “I have said we will not discuss that unfortunate incident.”

Rae of course couldn’t let it be. She just had to pick. “He must not have been that gay, Viola, considering he knocked Mirabeth up.
After
their divorce was finalized.”

Viola shrank in her seat as words erupted around her. Considering the tension she’d felt from Rose earlier and her own frustrations hovering so close to the surface, she should have known something was in the air. If Viola didn’t know for a fact that she and her friends had already gone through the change, she’d swear they were all PMSing. Rae and Mabel exchanged biting remarks while Lucy contributed a few of her own. It was times like these when Viola truly missed the school library and the profound appreciation for solitude and silence it had given her. After several seconds of pandemonium, Betty Jo’s shrill whistle split the air, silencing the fray and turning all eyes toward her. The king of spades and six of hearts lay abandoned on the table in front of her.

“That’s enough! Apparently we all have issues with our girls.”

Viola nodded along with the other three ladies. Much as she loved her Rose, a part of her wished her little girl had more to snuggle up to of a night than a recipe book.

Betty Jo continued, “So what are we going to do about it?”

Rae blinked, her expression as confused as the other ladies’. “What do you mean, ‘What are we going to do about it?’ What
can
we do about it?”

An uneasy silence filled Mabel’s basement game room. Finally Viola raised her hand. If no one else would state the obvious, she would.

Betty Jo gave her an indulgent smile. “Yes, Viola?”

“We could find them beaus.” After her earlier talk with Rose, she knew just the man for her daughter, but she wasn’t quite sure how to approach him. If the other ladies had ideas for that, she was willing to listen.

Mabel huffed. “I’ve tried that. Mirabeth finds fault with all the eligible gentlemen the judge and I have introduced her to.”

Rae snorted. “Probably because they’re all fancy-boy lawyers like her ex-husband.”

Determined to keep the fireworks from reigniting, Viola hurriedly offered, “Rose is too wrapped up in her candy shop to think about a man.”

Lucy added her own complaint. “Between work and her classes, Ellie doesn’t have time to date.”

Rae grumbled, “Arabella wouldn’t know what to do with a man if I left him handcuffed to her bed.”

With a shake of her head, Betty Jo admitted, “Norah simply ignores the boys I’ve tried to pair her off with.”

A knowing grin lifted Lucy’s lips. “Bet she wouldn’t turn down Jake Boudreaux.”

Now that was a name sure to get Betty Jo’s dander up. Viola had never understood why everyone was so dead set against the boy. He’d always taken very good care of Rose when she would tag along with him and his friends, was careful with his library books, and he’d been happy to assist her in shelving books when he was in school. And Norah adored the boy. Always had.

From the way Betty Jo stiffened up, Viola was pretty sure she’d reject Lucy’s suggestion out of hand, but she surprised everyone at the table when she asked, “You’ve seen the Boudreaux boy?”

The way Rae purred, Viola knew if the man had been a rabbit the woman would have pounced on him like the hungry cougar she was. “Oh my,
boy
is not the word for him. Why the way Jake fills out his jeans would make a nun wet in the middle of Sunday Communion.”

“You’ve seen him?” Viola asked, not wanting to think of the things Rae’s comment brought to mind.

Lucy answered. “I saw him ride into town this afternoon when I was getting the chips and dip at the Piggly Wiggly.”

“Ridin’ a big black beast like an outlaw astride a stallion.” Rae fanned herself with her abandoned playing cards.

The look on Betty Jo’s face hinted at a plan forming, but she dismissed Jake as the topic and turned it back to the problem at hand. “Enough about Jake Boudreaux. We need to get serious now.”

Her thoughts on the plan that had sprung to mind on how to get Rose a man, Viola sipped her tea, then asked, “Why? Get serious about what?”

Mabel seemed more in tune with Betty Jo. “About finding men for our girls.”

Lucy chimed in. “They aren’t getting any younger.”

“And I don’t know about you girls, and Mabel, you’re about to be blessed with one, but I’d like a grandbaby or two to spoil before I pass on,” Rae admitted.

Viola must have shared the same disbelieving looks as her other three friends, because Rae huffed, “Well, I would.”

Betty Jo announced, “All right then, I say we bring the first meetin’ of the Poker Posse to order.”