Charlotte arrived just as Nadine and Lettie were leaving at noon. She drew her shoulders back and said, “Ladies,” with a nod as she set her wet umbrella just inside the shop.
“Charlotte,” they said in unison and left with their chins jacked up an extra inch or two.
Now that was a prime example of civil friends, Jennie Sue thought as she crossed the room to hug her mother. “Mama, what brings you to town?”
Charlotte returned the hug, but only briefly, before she took a step back. “You smell like old books and sweat, and you look like crap.”
“Well, thank you for that, Mother.” Jennie Sue dragged out the last word into several syllables. “I’ve been working all morning, like most people in town. Want a cup of coffee or a glass of sweet tea?” She had to bite her tongue to keep any more sarcasm from sneaking out of her mouth.
“No, thank you. I thought maybe we could have lunch together,” Charlotte answered.
Oh, goody! A whole hour of listening to belittling remarks about how she looked, talked, or just her life in general.
“I’d love to. The café is only a few doors down the street, so let’s go there. They make a mean burger.” She’d get chastised for the fat grams in a burger and fries for sure, but that’s what she planned on having.
“I haven’t been in there in years. Do they have decent salads?” Charlotte asked as Jennie Sue got her purse and umbrella.
“Just enjoy something fattening, Mama. One time won’t even add a pound to your skinny frame.” She led the way out of the store, flipped the sign that said she’d be back in an hour, and locked up. “Let’s not fuss today.”
“I’ll try,” Charlotte sighed.
It might not be a guarantee, but it was a start. One baby step at a time—at least today she was going to lunch with her at a simple little café. That was a big thing in Charlotte’s world.
Though the place was more than half-full, conversation ceased when the two Baker women walked inside. Everyone stared at them as if two of Nadine and Lettie’s aliens had dropped out of the sky and hit the café first.
“What’s happening?” Charlotte whispered.
“You know us—we’re the movie stars in Bloom. The paparazzi will arrive any minute and start flashing pictures of us. Tomorrow we’ll be on the cover of all the gossip papers in the whole state—the ones that you buy right next to the grocery-store checkout counter.” Jennie Sue chose a booth and motioned for her mother to sit across from her. “Turn your best side toward me. I see phones takin’ our pictures.”
“Oh, hush! I shouldn’t have even come today, but I wanted to see you before your dad and I leave town for my birthday. We’re flying to Las Vegas for a few days,” Charlotte said.
“Good, because by next week, our picture will be pasted on the front, and the headline will be, ‘The Wilshire Women. Mother Still Beautiful. Daughter Looks Like Shit.’”
“Stop it.” Charlotte slapped at her and then giggled.
Jennie Sue hadn’t heard sincere laughter from her mother in years. It warmed her heart. “Why? I made you laugh and that erases wrinkles. Greasy hamburgers do the same thing. You know, at a certain age, you got to choose between your rear end and your face,” Jennie Sue whispered. “Look, everyone is talking again. They’re tryin’ to figure out what I’m sayin’ right now so they can go home and gossip about us.”
Charlotte leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I’m going to eat a burger with you, and if I lose a single wrinkle, I’ll pay for a patent.”
“It’s a deal.” Jennie Sue stuck out her hand.
Her mother shook it, and Elaine appeared at the table with two menus and a couple of glasses of water. “Good to see you, Charlotte. What can I get you ladies today?”
“Two burger baskets. No onions on either, and mustard. Fries and two Cokes, not diet. And save us a slice of chocolate cream pie. We’ll share it to save on fat grams,” Jennie Sue ordered.
“Are you insane?” Charlotte asked as soon as Elaine moved away from the booth.
“Maybe so.” Jennie Sue nodded. “After all, what sane woman would leave a virtual mansion to live in a garage apartment, clean houses, and work in a bookstore for a living when she could be living in luxury?”
“Why are you doin’ it, then?” Charlotte asked.
“Because it makes me happy,” she said. “I like having friends that are real and who don’t turn their backs on me.”
“Like Cricket? Are you callin’ that woman a real friend?” Charlotte’s mouth set into a firm line.
“She’s not my friend yet, but she’s honest. Whatever she’s got to say comes right out—to my face.” At least they’d made a couple of fun memories before the aliens decided Charlotte Baker was much too complicated for them to do anything with.
Charlotte pulled a paper napkin from the dispenser and laid it in her lap. “You’re sayin’ that my friends talk about me behind my back?”
“Let’s discuss Belinda and this new thing with her and the church. Do you honestly think that the whole town doesn’t know that she’s pregnant and that her two daughters do not belong to Lonnie? You can’t tell me that the Belles haven’t been talkin’ about her. Don’t you think that when she’s in the room, you become the headline of the day instead?”
“They wouldn’t do that. How did you know about Belinda?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes, they would, and everyone knows. Come on, Mama, do you have real friends?” Jennie Sue asked.
“Maybe not, but I’m comfortable in my world, no matter how mixed-up and crazy it is.” Charlotte caught someone actually taking a picture of her with a phone and waved. “You really think we might show up on a magazine cover?”
“Hell, no!” Jennie Sue sputtered. “We, and by that I mean you, are just a big fish in a mud puddle. You’ve got to be a whale in an ocean for anyone outside West Texas to give a damn about what or who you do.”
“I might learn to like this new daughter you are becoming,” Charlotte said. “The Wilshire women are probably turning over in their graves, but I like your frankness.”
“Thank you.” She wished she had that huge compliment from her mother written in calligraphy on fancy paper so she could frame it. Or better yet, engraved on stone to display proudly on a marble pedestal in her little apartment.
Charlotte only ate half a hamburger and two french fries, but that was a lot for her, so Jennie Sue didn’t push the issue. When they’d finished, the sun had pushed the dark clouds away and was shining brightly.
“Don’t you love the smell of fresh rain?” Jennie Sue said as they walked back to the bookstore.
“It’s so muggy that I’m sweating off my makeup,” Charlotte answered. “I’m not coming inside. I’ve got a committee meeting for a fund-raiser this afternoon. We are raising money for the next annual tea for the senior girls at the high school. I remember when you went to that tea. Your lovely blue dress may still be in your closet at home.”
“That was a long time ago.” Jennie Sue gave her mother a quick side hug. “Have a great afternoon and, Mama, I love you.”
“Love you, too.” Charlotte got into her car.
Jennie Sue was stunned speechless by the response. Charlotte had only said that a few times, and those had been when Jennie Sue was a little girl. She waved until the Cadillac turned three blocks down Main Street, and then she opened the store door and flipped the sign. She sank down on the sofa and shut her eyes, replaying her mother’s words several more times before she made herself get up and go back to work.
A bright ray of light showed how dirty the two front display windows were. A cute little bistro table with two chairs and a selection of books scattered on top sat in one bay window. At one time the other one had held a wingback chair with a book lying on it, but now it was a jumbled mess of boxes and books.