Summer Kisses (51 page)

“What?” Will asked.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the moment.”

Heavy clomping came up the spiral staircase. It was Mama Cherie dressed in a white shirt, plain black pants, and the ugliest low-heeled shoes Lucky had ever seen. Mama minus the sparkle was all wrong.

“My name is Babette, and I’ll be your server this evening.” Mama pulled a note pad out of her back pocket.

“Babette?” Lucky looked at Will as if he had the answer.

“I was blackmailed into playing the part of the hired help in your date. Babette is your waitress, and her character comes with this itchy outfit and these hideous shoes.” Mama flipped open the note pad. “I’m supposed to take your order, but that seems stupid to me since all we have is Chateaubriand, salad, French onion soup, and some kind of cake for dessert. All the food’s from The Emerald, but the personal waiter that was supposed to come with it is out with … wait for it … the stomach flu.”

Lucky loved The Emerald. Continental food served by an Irish family in an old, Irish-pub-looking house—it was fantastic.

“Babette, I believe we discussed your French accent.” Will grinned. Whatever he had on Mama must have been really bad because she was wearing orthopedic shoes.

“
Oui
. Would you like some fancy French wine?” Mama sounded like a southern Pepé Le Pew.

“Yes.” Lucky leaned over Will. “What does he have on you?”

“Babette has some parking tickets for which she needs my help.” Will absently traced her shoulder blade.

“What happened to attorney-client privilege?” Mama threw an indignant fist on her hip.

“What happened to your French accent?” Will countered.

Lucky sat back, and Will’s arm went to her chair back.

“Wheet appen to hattorney cli-ant preevilege?” Mama’s Pepé Le Pew was turning hostile.

“Please make her stop.” Lucky covered her ears with her hands. “On behalf of my only French friend, Patrice, I can’t listen anymore.”

“Okay, Babette can be from Texas.” Will glared at Mama. “And we don’t have attorney-client privilege because you aren’t paying me.”

“Details.” Mama hobbled in her uncomfortable comfortable shoes over to the screen.

“You’d better let her wear her own shoes if you don’t want her to spit in your wine.” Lucky recognized the angry set of Mama’s jaw. “Or worse, key your car.”

On the other side of the screen, Mama popped the cork and hacked up a loogie.

“Told you,” Lucky said. “Keying a car is way worse. Have you ever tried to match the paint on one single door to the rest of the car? It’s an art.”

“You don’t have to wear the shoes,” Will said over Mandy’s acoustic guitar.

“Pardon me, I had something in my throat.” Mama fake blew her nose to drive home the point.

“What are we doing after dinner?” Lucky unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap.

“After we eat, we’ll check on Dawnie, and then I thought we’d come back out, snuggle under the stars, and I’ll see if I can get to third base.” Will leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder.

“Yuck.” Gagging noises came from the other side of the screen. “Sorry, I just threw up a little in my mouth.” It was Mandy.

Lucky was up and behind the screen checking Mandy’s forehead for a temperature before she knew what she was doing. “You don’t feel warm.”

“I’m not sick. I’m completely grossed out and feel like I need to take a bath in a whole lot of bleach. I wish I could
un
-hear what y’all are going to do after dinner.” Mandy might have missed a note of two during the gagging episode, but she kept on playing. “If we do this again, I’m wearing noise-cancelling headphones.”

Lucky walked out from behind the screen and sat back down. “She’s okay.”

Mama set a half-filled wineglass apiece in front of Will and Lucky. “I’ll be right back with the first course.”

She clomped down the stairs, Lucky noticed, barefoot. Mama’s toes were painted with red-glitter nail polish and rhinestone hearts.

Will had gone out of his way to make their first date special. Lucky kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Making this the best first date of my life.” She pulled back and looked him directly in the eye. The love shining there wasn’t frightening but warming. Mama Cherie’s words drifted back:
What if it did work out?

Lucky wasn’t ready to jump right into something permanent, but she didn’t want to walk away either. She may not be in love with Will now, but the possibility of loving him existed. If she let herself, she could definitely fall in love with him. She sensed it would be a different kind of love than that she’d felt for Ricky. With Will, their relationship would be based on love, trust, kindness, and honesty. She continued to stare into his deep brown eyes. Yes, she could love him, and if she let herself, it would be forever and all-consuming.

Two days later, Lucky stared at the waist-deep mountain of dirty laundry mounded in front of the washing machine. How was it possible that five people had created so much? She needed to hire a housekeeper and fast. But part of her liked doing it for the girls. Maybe if she had two washing machines. She sized up the pile. Or four. As long as she was diving into the laundry, she might as well ask the girls if they had any other dirty clothes.

The first room she came to was Mandy’s. Not that she and Mandy were on the best of terms, but hey, laundry was laundry. She knocked once and then opened the door. She was pleased to find it unlocked. As she walked in, Mandy, who was sitting on the bed, quickly shoved something under her pillow.

“What do you have there?” Lucky could handle just about anything, but she hoped it wasn’t drugs. She told herself not to assume the worst just because Ricky had had issues with drugs and alcohol. She’d helped him kick the habit. It hadn’t been easy, but Mandy was worth it. Nodding to herself, she’d do whatever it took to get her help. Addiction did have a genetic component, and while they didn’t share DNA, Lucky felt responsible for her.

“It’s nothing.” Mandy sounded more embarrassed than angry, but she didn’t produce whatever she’d hidden.

Lucky walked over to the bed, reached around Mandy, and pulled out a piece of scrunched-up fabric. She unfolded it. It was a dress. Looking at Mandy, she said, “I don’t understand.”

Mandy grabbed the dress, wadded it up, and tossed it in her open closet. “It’s nothing.”

Lucky folded her arms and continued to stare at Mandy. “Tell me.”

Mandy sat heavily on the edge of the bed and wouldn’t make eye contact. “There’s this dance … and I didn’t have anything to wear. I was hoping to use one of Mom’s old dresses, but she was taller than me. It’s too long.” She hung her head. “I’ll make do.”

“Why did you hide it?” Lucky wanted to put her arm around this prickly girl, but Mandy was unpredictable and liable to bite off Lucky’s hand … in the least, a finger.

“I didn’t want you to see…” Her voice hitched and she sniffled. “I looked at Goodwill, but I couldn’t find anything. I can’t make this dress work, and I don’t have anything else.”

She sniffled again, and Lucky realized that she was crying. This time, Lucky did put her arm around the girl and pulled her in close. “I can’t afford a new dress, and I’m tired of…”

Her voice trailed off like she hadn’t meant to say this much. Gently, Lucky touched the girl’s chin and lifted her face so Lucky could see it. Huge tears brimmed from desolate eyes.

Whatever she had to do to take the sadness away, Lucky was fully prepared to do. “You’re tired of what?”

“Them making fun of me … you know, because I don’t have nice, new things.” She pulled at a string on the bedspread. “Some of the kids volunteer at the Goodwill in Lakeway, and they saw me shopping there. It was horrible.”

Lucky opened her mouth to say that it didn’t matter … those people didn’t matter, but they did. She knew how it felt to wear the same clothes day after day because they were the only ones she owned. Words hurt, especially during the hormonal teenaged years. More than anything, Lucky wanted to boost this wonderful girl on her lap and rock her tears away, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Your father liked for his ladies”—her voice cracked on the last word—“to have nice things. Why don’t we go and spend some of his money on buying you those things.”

It wasn’t Ricky’s money, but Mandy didn’t have to know that.

Not for the first time, she noticed that Mandy’s clothes were old and ill-fitting. She’d thought it was a fashion statement, but clearly, need topped fashion. She glanced at the closet, where only four shirts and two dresses hung. This was Lucky’s childhood all over again, only she hadn’t had someone looking out for her. Mandy had Will and Lucky, whether she liked it or not.

Mandy stiffened. “I don’t need charity. Besides, you’re my wicked stepmother. Why would you want to buy me anything?”

Her words cut deep, but Lucky told herself that it wasn’t personal. It was inevitable that Mandy would hate the woman who’d kept her father from marrying her mother. “You’re right. Maybe I should lock you in the closet under the stairs and only communicate with you via owl-delivered letters. The Dursleys make excellent child-rearing role models. We in the stepparenting community hold them in the highest regard. Now that I think about it, you should start working on all that laundry piled up in front of the washing machine.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Mandy relaxed a bit and let Lucky hold her. “If I did say yes … what would you want in return?”

“In return for what? A shopping trip?” It still amazed Lucky how these girls all thought kindness came with a price. Clothing was right up there with food and shelter on the must-have list. “All it would cost you is an afternoon with me. We can ask your sisters to come along if you’d like.”

“No … I guess I can stand to be alone with you.” She made it sound like shopping with Lucky was right below root canal on her list of favorite things to do. “If I have to.”

“Stop … all this flattery is going to make me blush.” Lucky felt like she’d just won a small victory. The war was still up for grabs, but this round had gone to her. “Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t know.” Mandy shrugged. “I’ve never really been clothes shopping for myself anywhere but the Salvation Army, Goodwill, and thrift stores. Mom took us shopping for her all the time, but I’ve never done more than look at the clothes.”

If
she
weren’t already dead, Lucky would have stabbed
her
with the closest pair of stilettos. How could any mother forsake her children for her own comfort?

“Why don’t we start on South Congress, hit a few of my favorite stores, and then move on to Barton Creek Mall. We could start at Nordys and work clockwise from there.”

Mandy glanced at her. “Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

“I learned from the best, my best friends, Charlie and Betts.” Lucky stood and stretched the kinks out of her back.

“Is that Betts Monroe? Mama Cherie says that she’s Betts’s mother, but I don’t think so.” She couldn’t hide the awe in her voice. “I’d read somewhere that you and Betts were friends.”

So knowing a country star elevated Lucky in her eyes. Whatever worked.

“Yes, Mama is Betts’s mother, and Betts, wife, mother, and kick-ass country singer, is one of my best friends. Charlie is my other best friend. She’s the daughter of The Honorable Thaddeus Thibodaux Guidry, governor of the great state of Louisiana. Charlie and hopefully Betts will be here next month for the reenactment. It’s my year to host.”

Interest sparked in Mandy’s eyes, but she tamped it down before it came gushing out of her mouth. “Reenactment of what?”

“JFK’s murder. Every year on his death day, we all dress up as Marilyn Monroe and reenact his death using water balloons,” Lucky explained. It always sounded strange to other people, but it made perfect sense to Lucky, Betts, and Charlie.

“Why?” Mandy forgot that she didn’t care.

“To prove there was a second shooter. Betts, Charlie, and I met our freshman year when we all showed up at the Halloween dance dressed as Marilyn Monroe, so we feel a certain allegiance to JFK.” Lucky picked up a shirt that was on the floor, folded it, and laid it on the bed. She didn’t realize what a mom thing it was until she caught Mandy watching her. The girl didn’t say anything, so Lucky didn’t either.

“Let me put on some more comfortable shoes, and we can take off.” Lucky headed toward the door.

“Thanks.” It was more accusation than appreciation.

Lucky smiled to herself. “No problem.”

An hour later, they were deep in the heart of South Congress. Having only hit Allens Boots, where Mandy had almost had a heart attack at the prices and refused to even try on anything, Lucky had calmly reminded her that her father had lots of money that he would have wanted to spend on her. It was sort of true—if Ricky had had lots of money, Lucky liked to think, he’d have wanted to spend it on his daughters. After much debate, Mandy finally broke down and tried on a pair of Lucchese boots. It was love at first fit. A girl never knew when she’d need a pair of good cowboy boots. With much anguish and having Lucky threaten to buy five additional pairs all in Mandy’s size, she consented to getting them.

Now they sat at a table in front of Amy’s Ice Cream enjoying ice cream drenched in Amy’s homemade hot fudge. Both Lucky and Mandy had chosen Texas Dirt Cake—a chocolate cheesecake ice cream with Oreos mashed in. If they only had one thing in common, let it be damn good ice cream.

“Where do you want to go next?” Lucky shoveled in a huge bite.

“I don’t know.” Something across the street caught Mandy’s eye.

Lucky turned around, following her line of sight. A group of teenaged boys stared into a shop window two stores down. “The tall one in the middle is cute.”

“That’s Marek. He’s in my poetry class.” Mandy’s voice didn’t betray the slightest hint of interest, but her eyes drank in Marek.

“Poetry is an actual subject?” Lucky really needed to be more involved in the girls’ education. “Please tell me you have science classes also … and math.”

“Of course. I placed out of AP English and decided to take this poetry class instead.” Mandy’s eyes never left Marek.