California Girls

“The bikes stop running around six. So all the weddings would start at seven. No biggie.”

“Ali, you’ve come up with a half dozen ideas in ten minutes. You’re good at this.”

“Thank you.” She waved her sandwich. “Oh, what about a Christmas village? You know with cute shops and reindeer and Santa.”

“No Christmas village.”

She slid onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You say that now, but I’ll bet I can convince you.”

“You probably can.” He kissed her. “The confidence is very sexy, just so you know.”

Confident? Her? She nearly laughed out loud only to realize she was feeling kind of confident. Inventory was her thing, so that wasn’t a surprise, but the rest of it had just come to her.

“You’re good for me,” he said right before he claimed her mouth with his.

As she kissed him back, she realized he was good for her, too.

*

Finola told herself she wasn’t going to faint. She’d had a protein drink a couple of hours ago and later tonight there would be actual food. She would be careful, though. After five days of no solid food, she didn’t want to get sick. That would hardly support the image she was presenting to the world.

She was buffed, spray-tanned and had endured a painful facial that had left her skin glowing. All that was left was for her to finish her makeup, then put on her gown.

Her mother stood in the doorway to her room. “I’d forgotten what it was like to get dressed up,” she said with a sigh. “So much work, but it’s worth it.” She crossed to the mirror over the dresser and studied herself. “Not that I would look like I used to.”

Finola put her hands on her mom’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. “You look great.” She paused. “Mom, are you dating?”

Mary Jo met her gaze in the mirror. “My goodness, no. Dating. At my age.”

“You’re in your fifties. You could live to ninety. Are you sure you want to be alone all that time?”

“I’m not alone. I have my girls and my friends.” She sighed. “Besides, love is complicated.”

Finola smiled. “It is, but sex can be easy.”

“Finola Louise!”

“Come on. You can’t tell me you don’t miss it. Find some nice man and take him for a test drive. You know what they say. Use it or lose it.”

They were still laughing when Zennie arrived. Finola saw that her sister had actually put on mascara and used hair product so her short cut was spiky. She carried a dress in a plastic garment bag.

Zennie and Mary Jo looked at each other for a second. Finola felt the rising tension in the room.

“Mom.”

Finola willed her mother to try to let it go.

“How are you feeling?” Mary Jo asked. “I never had morning sickness when I was pregnant, but I was an emotional mess. Show me a kitten and I would cry for hours.”

Zennie laughed. “That’s what I’m dealing with, too. Everything is drama and I can’t handle it.”

“Wait until your boobs start hurting. It goes away in a few weeks but until then, it’s like knives.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

They smiled at each other and Finola relaxed. While they chatted, she wrestled her way into shapewear, then slid on the Rachel Gilbert black-and-silver sequined gown. The sucker weighed several pounds, but she didn’t care. It was gorgeous and suited her. She wanted to make an entrance and photograph well—nothing else mattered.

“You look great,” Zennie said, stripping off her clothes and stepping into the bridesmaid dress she’d bought for Ali’s wedding.

Of course the simple, inexpensive gown looked stunning on her. Oh, to be that tall, that fit and that genetically blessed, Finola thought with only a tiny bit of rancor.

While Mary Jo zipped up the dress, Finola handed her sister a small navy evening bag. They’d just stepped into their shoes when the doorbell rang.

While Mary Jo greeted the driver, Finola checked that she had everything, then she and her sister stepped into the limo.

“Thanks for doing this,” she said as they pulled away from the curb. “The station is a big sponsor of the charity so I couldn’t get out of going but I really didn’t want to face the hordes alone.”

“Happy to help,” Zennie told her. “It’s not my idea of fun but lately I’m feeling unsettled and out of sorts, so this is a nice distraction.”

Finola studied her. “No regrets?”

“The occasional surprise, but no regrets.”

Impulsively, Finola squeezed her hand. “I’m glad.”

It didn’t take long to get to The Beverly Hills Hotel. They waited in a line of limos before reaching the red carpet. Zennie stared at the crowd of photographers.

“I wasn’t expecting this. What should I do?”

“Smile and head inside. I’ll be right beside you.”

“What if I trip?”

“Then you’ll be on the news.”

Zennie grinned. “Good to know.”

They made it inside without mishap. Finola led the way to the registration area where she checked them in. The night was a fairly traditional event with cocktails and a silent auction followed by dinner and a live auction. She was at one of the station’s three tables where she would be surrounded by people she knew and trusted. Zennie would sit on one side of her and she’d arranged for Rochelle to sit on the other. But first she had to get through the cocktail party.

She linked arms with her sister. “Ready?” she asked.

“I’m not sure for what, but okay. Let’s do it.”

They walked into the huge ballroom. There were dozens of pairs of photographs of children on the walls. The picture on the left showed a sick, sad child while the one on the right showed the same kid, but healthy and happy. Everywhere banners proclaimed You can make miracles.

As they made their way to the bar, they passed too many people Finola knew. Women stopped her with a concerned expression.

“How are you?” a tall redhead asked. “Really, Finola. How are you?”

Finola smiled. “I’m doing great, Maddie. How are you?”

“I just feel so awful. Everything was so public. You really didn’t know at all?”

Finola stepped back. “We’re parched. Let’s talk later, all right? Right now a vodka martini is calling my name.”