The Hurricane Sisters (15 page)

Tom said, “Mary Beth, please call her back and tell her she doesn’t need to come. Mission’s accomplished. Y’all will meet her soon enough. Remarkable woman.”

“Sure thing,” she said.

I looked at the table. We’d barely touched our salads.

“Wait! Don’t go. Who cares about radicchio and endive anyway?” I said and began to blubber like a baby. Between my gulping I managed to say, “Please clear the table, Mary Beth. Ask Peggy to open the champagne and for goodness’ sake . . .”

“Bring Mrs. Waters a healthy shot of vodka on the rocks and a box of tissues on the side,” Tom said.

“Two limes,” I sputtered.

Annie put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a squeeze and Michelle reached across the table and patted the back of my clammy hand. I was so happy and I was just a mess.

CHAPTER 9

Ashley—In Red

I was blow-drying my hair. Mary Beth was standing next to me talking my ear off about my mother and some big deal about My Sister’s House. Sadly, and maybe selfishly, I didn’t want to hear anything about it at that moment. I was so excited I could feel my heart fluttering in my chest. I was having dinner with Porter. Everyone was right. He called. Yes, ma’am, he sure did! And he sent flowers—beautiful red roses! He was so, so darling.

“You should’ve seen her in action, Ash. Your mother is like amazing!”

“Yep. She sure can be. Did you see the dress she bought for me? Totally Jackie O circa 1965. It’s in that dress bag on the back of the door. And she bought me killer pumps from Bob Ellis. I guess she figured the world had seen enough of my bootylishiousness!”

“You’re terrible,” she said, laughing. She unzipped the bag and took out the dress. “Holy crap! This is Jackie, all right! It’s screaming for a circle pin. Don’t you think?”

“Right? I think it takes guts to wear a red dress though, don’t you?”

“Well, I look like a freak in red with my red hair and freckles but on you? I’ll bet it’s gorgeous! Put it on! Galloway’s gonna faint. Where’s the dog, read SOB, taking you?”

“In a minute and Mary Beth? He’s not an SOB. Really, he’s not. He’s just crazy busy, that’s all. And can’t you imagine he’s got so much stress all the time. I don’t know how he handles it. He was very sweet when he called. And, news flash, we’re going to Hall’s Chophouse downtown. He said he was dying for a good steak and I said I think Hall’s is supposed to be amazing. I’m just glad it’s not located in a hotel.”

“Boy, no kidding.” She shook out the dress and hung it back on the hook. “You are going to look so pretty in this.”

“Thanks. We’ll see. Hey! Did I tell you I saw Tommy downtown this afternoon? He was at Starbucks on King Street. He actually bought me an iced coffee.”

“He’s such a cutie,” she said.

“He wants to know when we’re having another sunset party.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him we’d think about it. What do you think? Should we do it again?”

“Heck, yes! Don’t you think the last one was awesome?”

“Yeah, but to do it again . . . I don’t know. I think it should have a new theme or something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Let’s think about it. Meanwhile, Senator Fabulous is going to be here in like ten minutes.”

“Okay. I’m going to go wallow in my loneliness with some micro fat-free popcorn and last season of
Downton Abbey
. Take a picture of the food for me.”

“Right. No date?”

“No date. No work tonight. It’s a sad story.”

“Oh, please.” I threw the dress over my head and Mary Beth zipped me up while I stepped into my new shoes. Then I put on some red lips and fake pearl earrings that looked as good as real ones. I stepped back to look in the mirror. “What do you think?”

“I think . . . I think you look like a movie star!”

“Too flashy?”

“No! You look terrific! Now spritz something in all the target points and be ready when the doorbell rings.”

“Right.” I pushed my lipstick, my cell phone, and my house keys into my little black bag and sprayed some perfume all over my hair and my wrists.

A few minutes later we heard a car pull up in the yard. Mary Beth went to the living room to peek out the window. It was him.

“It’s him! He looks pretty cute, I guess,” Mary Beth said.

“You really don’t like him, do you?”

“Ash? It’s not that I don’t like him. Any girl who’s with him can’t be just herself. She’s going to have to be what he wants her to be. Because if his girlfriend/woman/wife can’t help him get what he wants, he’s gonna dump her. That’s just politics, you know, like Hill and Bill? So I’m just saying . . .”

“Be careful, right?” I knew she was right. “I will be. Anyway, I like teamwork. I’ll just let him talk about himself. Guys like to do that.”

“Good idea.”

“Hey, Mary Beth? When’d you get so smart about men?”

“You don’t want to know,” she said and I thought she looked a little unhappy.

“We’ll talk later on. Okay?”

“Sure.”

We both looked out the window then. He was standing in the yard talking on his cell phone.

“What the heck is he doing?” I said. “Isn’t he going to come to the door?”

“Maybe he expects you to go running to him,” Mary Beth said.

“Like Maisie would say, hell will freeze first,” I said and I meant it. “Our table’s for seven o’clock.”

It was just after six thirty and the restaurant was a solid twenty minutes away without traffic. So we watched him and we watched him. He was just chattering away like he wasn’t in my yard and I wasn’t waiting and we didn’t have a reservation. Time kept passing and he kept talking.

“Don’t you think he knows what time it is? Maybe he thinks they’ll just take him anyway.”

“I don’t know what he thinks but it seems a little weird to just be standing there talking forever, doesn’t it?” I had an idea. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Watch me.”

I opened the front door and stood there. Finally, he looked up at me and waved. Then he made a motion with his left hand for me to come to him. I slammed the door and stayed inside.

“What in the world are you doing?” Mary Beth said in disbelief.

“Just wait a minute,” I said.

A minute later the doorbell rang. I paused, took a deep breath, and then I opened it.

“Hey, Ashley! Gosh! You look beautiful tonight. Why didn’t you come to the car? We’re going to be late.”

“Not my problem. You were on the phone.”

“Yeah, I was! I was talking to the head of the Senate Finance Committee about a very important vote that’s coming up and . . .”

“Porter? I don’t care if you were talking to Barack Obama. If you want to take me out, well then, you’re going to have to come to the door like a gentleman.”

He stopped, stepped back, and looked at me. The strangest expression came over his face and then he smiled.

“I knew I liked you,” he said. “An old-fashioned southern girl with manners and everything. You are too cute!”

“I won’t be too late!” I called back to Mary Beth. I caught her eye, well,
both of them
and they were rolling around the ceiling.

He opened my car door and waited until I was all settled before he closed it. I thought, See? He
is
a gentleman. As soon as he backed out of the driveway he took out his phone again.

“I have to finish this phone call. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, no, of course not.”

“Okay, and just so you know, anything you hear cannot be repeated. It’s state business and lots of times things are said that might sound rough or peculiar to the uninitiated.”

“No, I get it. Go right ahead and make your call.”

So for the entire ride to Charleston I was held captive and unable to speak because Porter and Mark were discussing the state budget, who was going to get funded and who was getting frozen out because they didn’t support something. It was just about the most boring conversation I had ever heard in my entire life. That would be a capital B.

“Sorry that went on for so long,” he said as we pulled into a parking spot right in front of the restaurant just as another car pulled away from the curb.

“Gee, you’d think they saved this spot for you,” I said. “Talk about parking karma.”

“I know. Hey, I’m a lucky guy! Look at who I’m with tonight!” I started to get out of the car and he said, “Don’t you touch that door handle! I’ll be right there!”

“Yes, sir!” I said and giggled.

So he opened my door and extended his hand to me. I took it and stood on the curb. He locked the car with his key, it chirped like a bird, and then he held the door of the restaurant open for me too. I thought, It’s pretty nice to be treated this way. Boys my age expected you to do everything for yourself and then maybe split the bill at the end of the night unless it was your birthday. And then you were supposed to jump in bed with them when you got home like sex had no meaning whatsoever. I mean, you shouldn’t assume that having sex meant you were in love or something. You could hold out for two or three dates, but if you had no intention of sleeping with a guy, you shouldn’t date him more than a couple of times. This was exactly why I didn’t date that often. The difference between Porter and the guys I dated appeared to be vast, at least so far. Porter wasn’t a boy; he was a man. And he was a senator, for heaven’s sake. All these crazy thoughts were swirling around in my head as we climbed the steps to the second-floor dining room. Of course, the maître d’ recognized Porter and offered him his choice of tables downstairs but Porter mentioned something about wanting some privacy. So upstairs was the best choice. And we were led to a table at the back of the room that was about as discreet as you could ask for in that restaurant.

“Would you like a glass of wine or champagne?” Porter asked, motioning for the maître d’ to stay for a moment.

“Sure! Maybe a New Zealand sauvignon blanc?”

“Very good,” he said, “and for you, Senator?”

“I’ll have what the lady is having,” he said.

“I’ll get those drinks brought over to you right away!” he said and left.

Porter turned back to me and his face was just incredulous. “Excuse me? Are you like a sommelier or something?”

“No,” I said and smiled. “I just happen to like the taste of that particular grape.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I think chardonnays are too oaky and heavy and German wines are too sweet. But if my roommate and I are sharing a bottle of something, it’s usually on sale at Bi-Lo for like ten dollars or less. And it
might
be a chardonnay.”

There was no reason to tell him that sometimes we bought wine in a box from Costco. By the ton. This fact would not have showcased me in my most sophisticated light.

“You mean yes, not yeah.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Ha-ha! Just kidding, Porter.”

“Got it. It’s just that
yeah
sounds so, I don’t know, undignified. Public eye and all that. I have to watch everything.”

I’d never say
yeah
again or
yep
and I imagined that saying
yup
carried the same penalty.

“We were talking about cheap wine?”

“Right! Well, I remember those days. Roommates and all that. It wasn’t that long ago, actually.”

“Oh, please, you’re not that old.”

“No, I’m actually the youngest guy in the state senate.”

“I know that,” I said.

“You do? What else do you know, Ashley Waters, with the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen?”

I giggled. I wanted to tell him right then that he smelled so good and that I loved his eyes too but I didn’t. I opened my menu and began to consider my options. I was going to have the petite filet mignon and a baked potato and maybe the Caesar salad. Did I want creamed spinach too? No! I’d smile at him and have spinach in between my teeth hanging like Spanish moss on a live oak tree. Spinach was out of the question.

“I know that I’m really starving and that’s about all I know. Are you going to have an appetizer?”

“Absolutely!” The waiter put our goblets of wine on the table in front of us and left. “Well, may I propose a toast?”

“Sure.”

“Here’s to the most beautiful girl in the restaurant!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. And, Ashley, I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“Well, for expecting you to come up to my room the night I met you. I promise it was harmless enough. I mean, they give me a suite with a completely separate living room and all that. My aide clearly neglected to tell you that. But I should’ve realized how it sounded to you and I didn’t even think about it. In any case, I apologize for my manners.”

“No problem. And the flowers you sent were gorgeous. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Look, I guess you may as well know this about me now, Porter.”

“What’s that?”

He looked at me in a way that made me feel like a tiny bug about to be eaten by a big hairy spider but first the spider wanted to interview his food. And maybe toy with it too.

“Well, for one thing, I don’t think I’m like the other girls you date.”

“And how’s that?”

I took a sip of wine followed by a deep breath.

“I don’t just go out all the time. Like just to party and all. I don’t do any drugs. I go to church. Well, most Sundays.” This was not true. “I don’t sleep around. And I’m pretty serious about my career. And I actually love my family, crazy as they may be.” Did I sound like a fool to say these things?

He reached across the table and took my hand in his.

“Somehow I already knew all that about you, Ashley. Maybe that’s why I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ve been thinking about you constantly, and I think I’ve just about come to the conclusion that I’ve been waiting all my life for someone like you to appear. I walked in that gallery and there you were, just standing there glowing with goodness.”

What?

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Don’t you believe in love at first sight?”

“Well, I believe in
love
but I’m a little less sure about first sight.” I felt my face burning with surprise. Did he really think he was in love with me?