“I’ll be in touch tomorrow night, so you can bring mine and Lettie’s at the same time,” she said. “Right now, I’ve got to get myself presentable so my mother doesn’t stroke out.”
“I think you’re beautiful even with war paint.” He smiled.
She dashed into the garage bathroom and washed off all her makeup. Her reflection stared back from the mirror above the sink. “I like this woman with no makeup, but I expect Mama would have a cardiac arrest if I showed up at her party like this.” She talked to herself as she got out an emergency makeup bag from her purse. She redid her mascara, brushed on a minimum of eyeliner and shadow, and then applied lipstick. It wasn’t what Charlotte would expect, but at least it was a compromise.
“How mad is she?” she asked Frank when she was back in the garage.
“Not quite as upset as she was when you brought home that guy who was studyin’ psychology for the weekend when you was in college. Lord, did that man have thoughts. She’s got all her friends around her right now, so she’ll keep her temper in check. You here for the party or for good?” He hugged her tightly.
“Just for the party. I talked to Daddy, and he said I could come to it even if I didn’t want to move back into the house. I don’t know if I can do this, Frank. Facing her after that fight we had would be bad enough, and now the Belles are in there.”
“Well, there ain’t but two options right here, Jennie girl. You can get in Lettie’s truck and drive back to town, or else you go in there and face the bear in her cave,” Frank said.
“Guess I’ll face the bear. She only gets worse with time.” She hurried to the kitchen door before she lost her nerve and pushed inside.
“Darlin’ girl.” Mabel rushed to wrap her arms around Jennie Sue. “I’m so glad you came today. Your mama’s friends are already out on the porch havin’ mimosas. They’re makin’ a day of it to cheer her up. She’s been horrible since y’all had the fight.”
“Mabel, we need some more orange juice out here,” Charlotte yelled.
“I’ll be right back.” Mabel got a bottle from the refrigerator and hurried out of the kitchen.
Rick pushed through the kitchen door carrying a huge watermelon. “I got to the end of the lane and remembered that I didn’t bring in the most important thing for the party.”
“Hello again. Just put it right there.” Jennie Sue pointed toward the cabinet.
He set it in a position so it wouldn’t roll, then turned to face her. “You’ve still got a smear right under your ear you might want to check.”
She quickly wet a paper towel and handed it to him. “Help me, please. If I run into one of Mama’s friends, they’ll say something about it.”
He carefully dabbed at a place and then tipped her chin up with his thumb and turned her head back and forth. “Now you’re in good shape.”
“Thank you so much.” She took the towel and threw it in the trash, but it wasn’t so easy to get rid of the feeling his touch created. She chalked it all up to nerves over having to deal with her mother and her friends.
Mabel returned, nodding when she saw the watermelon. “Have you got a couple of extras? I’m beginning to think one won’t do the job.”
“Sure do. I’ll go out to the truck and bring them in,” Rick said as he limped out the back door.
“Good boy, that Rick is,” Mabel said. “Town should have given him a parade or named a street after him or something when he came home all shot to hell and back. But he wasn’t—Well, they didn’t.”
“Wasn’t what?” Jennie Sue touched her chin to see if it was as warm as it felt.
“Honey, this is Bloom. The have-nots don’t get much attention or reward for doin’ something amazin’. The haves get the glory whether they did something really important or not,” Mabel answered. “But that Rick is one of the best. And now you’d best get on out there and play nice with your mama and her friends.”
“Where’s Daddy?” Jennie Sue asked.
“He’s at the office. Said he’d be back in time for food this evening. You want to call him?”
Jennie Sue sighed. There went her support if her mother was still mad. “No, I’ll just go get it over with.”
Mabel lowered her voice. “She did drink a whole pitcher, so she might be softened up a little bit. Tread easy, though.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jennie Sue gave her a thumbs-up sign.
She went to the window and counted all eleven of the other Belles sitting on the porch with Charlotte. According to the charter that had been made when Charlotte’s grandmother and several of her friends started the Sweetwater Belles, twelve was the magic number. If a member had a daughter, when she died, that child inherited the prestigious spot. If not, then the remaining eleven had to agree on who was worthy to be admitted into the exclusive club.
From a very young age, Charlotte had instructed Jennie Sue to call all eleven of those women “aunt,” but standing back in the shadows, trying to gather the courage to go out there, she wondered if today she’d be disinherited. With her gaze on her mother, she didn’t even see Aunt Sugar coming her way until the woman touched her on the arm with a frown.
Sugar Cramer was Charlotte’s age, but she looked twenty years older. She wore her blonde hair in a pageboy cut, and she towered above Jennie Sue. Looking more like a rough old girl you’d see hangin’ around a lamppost on a bad street, she hardly gave off the impression that she could be a southern belle.
“Jennie Sue Baker, how could you upset your mama like this? I’m glad to see you back home, though. You go out there and make a public apology to her. She only wants what’s best,” Sugar scolded.
“She thought Percy was wonderful, so maybe she doesn’t know what’s best for me,” Jennie Sue argued.
“But he’s so cute and so rich and he treated you like a queen,” Aunt Sugar shot back.
“The only thing he ever did for me was teach me to keep a clean house, which got me a job to hold me over until I can find something,” Jennie Sue said.
“A southern woman, especially a Belle, holds her head up in adversity and never leaves her husband,” Sugar said stoically. “And she damn sure doesn’t clean houses. It will take a lot of redeeming for you to ever get into the Belles. If your mama wasn’t the good-standing member that she is, we’d all have some major doubts.”
Jennie Sue popped a hand on her hip. “I didn’t leave him. He left me with nothing. No man is worth what I went through, so believe me when I say I don’t want a husband anytime in the near future. The feds are after him for tax evasion and have confiscated my house, my car, my jewelry, and everything I owned. He’s also wanted for extortion. Don’t give me a dressin’-down over cleanin’ houses, Aunt Sugar. And FYI, which is for your information, I don’t give a damn about my place in the Belles.”
Sugar backed up a couple of feet. “You settle down, Jennifer. That’s no tone to take with your elders. You mama said you’d gotten a bad spirit since the divorce. If you’ll straighten up, we can forgive one little rebellious week. We’ve all had our bad days, and we could use you on a dozen committees, with your business degree,” Sugar said.
“And I can’t serve on those committees unless I’m livin’ at home?” Jennie Sue asked.
“That’s life, darlin’.” Aunt Sugar patted her on the cheek. “You got to decide what’s important in the long haul.” She disappeared toward the bathroom on the first floor.
Jennie Sue stiffened her spine and walked outside, went straight to the bar, and asked for a mimosa with double the champagne.
“Jennie Sue,” Aunt Mary Lou squealed, “I told Charlotte that you were just havin’ a little anxiety attack. You should see my doctor for that. He’ll prescribe a little capsule that will make you feel at peace with the world.”
Carrying her mimosa with her, Jennie Sue crossed the patio and sat down in a lounge beside her mother. “I’m just here for the party, not for good. I start the first of my two jobs in the morning.”