“Thank you. Lots of water, healthy fertilizer, and bug spray. Be sure to wash them good,” he said.
Mabel pulled several bills from an envelope marked “Petty Cash” and handed them to him. “This is so much better than what I can get in the grocery store. Dill loves fresh food. Says it reminds him of when his mama had a garden.”
“Thank you. Let me know if you need anything else this week.” He was out the door when he saw Lettie’s old truck rumbling up the lane. He stopped and leaned on the porch post until the driver parked in front of the long multicar garage. Surely Lettie Clifford wasn’t coming to the Baker place to brag about Jennie Sue working for her.
Frank went out to the truck, then Jennie Sue followed him back into the garage. Rick left the porch and met them when they rounded the end of his truck. Jennie Sue. So much sadness filled her pretty blue eyes that he wanted to hug her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine . . . or I will be,” she said.
Her eyes and all that mascara streaking down her cheeks didn’t agree with her words, but he wouldn’t pry into her business. “Can I help?”
She shook her head and glanced over into the truck bed. “Did Mabel order all this?”
“No, only a couple of bags. I still have to deliver the rest,” he answered.
“It all looks good.” She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I love fresh better than frozen or canned. Could I get some delivered to my apartment once a week? If you’ll give me a couple of minutes, I’ll help unload it.”
“Wouldn’t want you to get those party clothes dirty. But about a delivery—I’d love to add you to my list. Here’s my phone number.” He fished a business card from the pocket of his shirt. “Just call me the night before you want it and tell me what you need. I can have it there the next day or bring it to you at Amos’s store. And I always take stuff to Nadine’s and Lettie’s on Fridays.” His heart kicked in an extra beat as he handed her the card. Jennie Sue would have his phone number. If she ever called, would they talk about anything other than tomatoes and watermelons?
“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.