The Young Wives Club

“Seriously?” She gripped the thick card stock, staring at the intricate tendrils of gold foil.

George bit his lip. “I mean, if you think it’s weird, that’s fine.” He took a step back, as if to ward off her imminent rejection. “It’s just that I have an extra ticket, and you’ve never been to New Orleans. . . . Could be a win-win for both of us?”

Madison grinned, trying to hold back her excitement. “Yeah. I’m in.” She was suddenly acutely aware of her Chuck Taylors and her chipping black nail polish. If she was going to go to a ball, she would need to clean herself up.

George held his hand out to high-five her, and Madison chuckled, slapping his hand with her own. He was such a nerd.

He cleared his throat. “We have to stay the night. But I’ll get you your own hotel room, of course.”

Madison raised an eyebrow, amused by how embarrassed he was. “So you’re not expecting some Pretty Woman scenario, right?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, shaking his head.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced over at George, who was straightening the postcards on the fridge, his cheeks bright red. She knew what she wanted out of their relationship—some good meals and maybe some expensive gifts, since all the money she earned these days went to helping her parents. Not to mention that it was sure to make Cash jealous when he found out. But she still wasn’t sure what he wanted, if not sex. He was new in town and clearly didn’t have many friends. Was he lonely? Or was it something else entirely?

Her phone buzzed and she grabbed it out of her pocket. It was a text message from Cash.

Fat Pat’s at 6?

Madison hit her lock screen, feeling slightly guilty that she was leaving already. “I gotta get going.”

“Thanks for coming out today,” George said. “And tell your mama thanks for the cookies.”

“I will,” she said, opening the front door. Outside, the sun was beginning to fade away, and a cotton candy sky hovered over the trees. She turned back to George before heading to her truck. “See you soon.” Her words hung in the air, stretching out between them as they stood there. She didn’t know the protocol for this sort of situation. Should they hug? Kiss on the cheek?

Finally they moved toward each other awkwardly and ended up doing a sort of half-hug, half-shoulder pat. “Get home safe,” he said with a laugh.

As she started her truck—the engine rumbling and exhaust smoke spewing from the underside—she looked back at George. He waved eagerly at her from the front porch of the grand Victorian, Charlie lying by his feet.

She blew them a kiss and smiled to herself. Only a few weeks in, and already she’d snagged herself a trip to New Orleans. She couldn’t wait to see what George would offer up next.





12


claire


“HOW LATE DO you think you’ll be?” Claire asked as she scribbled down the WiFi password on her “Fixin’ To” notepad. Her mom would be there in a couple of minutes to watch Sadie while Claire and Gavin went out with their respective friends. Her mom’s only stipulation for coming over was that she have good Internet access—she was addicted to her Mahjong with Friends app.

Gavin poured his glass of water down the sink and left the dirty dish on the counter. “I’m not sure. The game starts at seven, but the guys and I were talking about practicing a couple of songs for the church talent show after, so it might be kinda late.”

“I’m sure Becky’ll love a jam session in her living room at eleven o’clock on a Friday night,” Claire said, sticking the piece of paper to the fridge.

“She’s out of town this weekend, so sadly for her, she doesn’t even get to hear us play.” He pushed his glasses up with his finger. “How long you gonna be?”

“I think we’re just having dinner, so it should only be a few hours.” She grabbed Gavin’s glass and put it in the dishwasher.

“All the girls are going?” He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his breath warm against her cheek.

Claire nuzzled his cheek with hers and turned her head to kiss him. “Yep.”

Her heart began to beat faster, but it wasn’t from the kiss. Madison would be there tonight, and things hadn’t been the same with her since she had accused Gavin of going to a strip club last month. Claire still couldn’t believe that Madison had been so thoughtless, and so wrong.

Claire and Gavin had been working harder on their relationship recently—taking breaks together at the church, setting aside time to eat dinner together as a family, and even going on a few romantic dates. Marriage was hard work, something Madison couldn’t possibly understand. The girls had made up last week and texted a few times. But Madison was being the most cordial and polite she had ever been in her entire life, and quite frankly, it scared Claire a little.

Gavin disentangled himself and walked over to the breakfast table. He sat down, tying his brown shoes. “And you still haven’t met Gabby’s fiancé yet?”

“No . . . weird, right?” Claire pulled up the chair next to him. “She said he’s out of town this weekend but she’s going to bring him around next week. I still can’t believe they’re engaged—it happened so fast. I think she’s in shock.”

“That happens.” Gavin looked up from his shoes with a smile. “Remember how surprised you were when I asked you?”

Claire’s lips curled up as she thought about that night. They had been celebrating their one-year anniversary, which fell on the same night as the church’s youth choir concert. Gavin promised he would take her out for a late dinner after the performance. They sat in the front row, and Gavin held her hand throughout the entire show. The last song just happened to be their song. As the kids belted out “God Gave Me You,” chill bumps started covering her body. The singers then pointed to her in a coordinated move. She blushed and looked over at Gavin, who squeezed her hand and kissed her cheek. When she looked back at the stage, the kids were holding out letters that spelled out “Will You Marry Me, Claire?”

Gavin gently let go of her hand and got down on one knee. Totally shocked, she nodded, tears rolling down her face, and the entire audience cheered. Their families—even her dad—popped out from behind a door to congratulate them. “This is the happiest day of my life,” she had whispered in Gavin’s ear. “It’ll only get better,” he had whispered back.

The doorbell chimed, shaking her out of the memory, and Claire stood up. “Mom’s here!” She ran to the foyer and opened the door, welcoming her mother into the house. “Thanks so much for doing this, Mama.”

Julie Pennell's books