Jillian swept into the room, tucking her short golden hair behind her ears. She was in her midforties, but people often asked Jillian and Claire if they were sisters, and not in a fun, joking way. Claire liked to tell people it was a blessing that her mom looked so good—it meant she’d age well, too.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Jillian said, pulling a bottle of wine out of her canvas bag. Claire tried not to look at it in disapproval; she wasn’t about to lecture her free babysitter. The silver bangles on Jillian’s wrist clinked together as she set the wine on the coffee table. “Sadie and me’ll be fine. Now, where are y’all going again?”
“Gavin’s going over to his friends to watch the LSU game,” Claire said, putting her jacket on. “The girls and I are going to the Gumbo Fest.”
“Oh yeah. Went last night.” She began uncorking the bottle. “It’s a real good time.”
Gavin entered the room. “Thanks for watching Sadie for us,” he said, giving his mother-in-law a hug and kiss on the cheek.
“You kids have fun,” Jillian said, pouring her first glass of wine as Claire and Gavin headed to the door. “Don’t get into too much trouble!”
? ? ?
CLAIRE PULLED HER car into the packed festival parking lot and found the girls in the tent, sitting at a long table near the bandstand. The Gumbo Fest was an annual tradition where almost everyone in town—from the drunks to the rich folks who lived on Darby Lake—mixed and mingled over good food and live music. The gumbo cook-off was just as popular as the line-dance contest, and the funnel cakes were the best in the world, according to an unscientific poll developed by Madison and Claire when they were kids.
The girls greeted her, but Claire noticed her hug with Madison was a little stiffer than the others. As she sat down in the plastic seat they’d saved her, she saw that they’d already ordered food and gotten her a big bowl of gumbo.
Claire nodded to Gabby’s left hand, where the two-carat princess-cut diamond glimmered. “Is your arm sore yet from carrying that gigantic thing around?”
Gabby blushed and put her hand down in her lap. “It’s not a big deal, really.”
Claire frowned. The day after Gabby’s engagement, Claire had stopped by the day care and her jaw dropped when she saw what was on Gabby’s finger. Hours before, Gabby had been claiming that she was going to break up with this guy, and now here she was, engaged. And when Claire made a big deal about it, Gabby downplayed everything. She’d known Gabby her whole life and the girl had been planning her dream wedding since she was eight. She couldn’t figure out why her friend was suddenly being so evasive about it.
Madison held up her ringless hand. “And then there was one. You guys are dropping like flies.”
“I’m sure if Cash gave you even a Cracker Jack box ring, you’d be on your way to the chapel in a heartbeat,” Laura said with a laugh.
“I highly doubt it’ll happen anytime soon.” She frowned. “Cash and I are only hookup buddies. He’s made that loud and clear. ‘Band comes first, babe,’?” she said, mocking his deep voice. “But whatever. I’m having some fun with someone else.”
Claire leaned in across the sticky table, intrigued. Normally, Madison told her everything about her romantic entanglements.
“Well . . . who is he?” Laura asked eagerly.
“My dad’s boss.” Madison took a sip of her Coke and gave the girls a measured look, waiting for their reactions.
Claire’s initial thought was that someone needed to slap some sense into her cousin. But screaming, Are you out of your damned mind? might go over poorly, so she went with: “Um, how old is this guy?”
“Thirty-something, I don’t have his birth certificate. But I’m not like into him, you guys.” She shrugged. “We’re just friends, and he happens to be a nice distraction when Cash is too busy with his dumb band.” She held her hand up, rubbing her thumb, middle, and index fingers together. “Plus, he’s rich.”
Claire sat back in shock. “So, you’re using him for money?” she asked. The words came out far more judgmental-sounding than she’d meant.
Madison looked away, her cheeks reddening. “Whatever. He’s taking me to a Mardi Gras Ball in New Orleans. I get to go to New Orleans and stay at the Ritz freakin’ Carlton!”
“So you’re using him for money,” Gabby repeated.
Madison held her head up, her eyes narrowing. Claire knew that look—it was the same one Madison had worn when she was twelve and had snuck bottles of beer for her and Claire at a family reunion. It meant she was scheming. “And to make Cash jealous.”
“Is it working?” Laura asked, blowing on a spoonful of gumbo.
“Well, you shoulda seen the look on Cash’s face a few weeks ago when George and I pulled up next to him in the Porsche on Tilley Road. . . .” Madison leaned back in her chair and smiled slyly. “I’ve never seen Cash Romero look so insecure in his life. He’s been texting me like crazy this week, and we’re going to his family’s cabin tomorrow.”
Madison could handle herself, and if this was what she wanted to do, nothing Claire could say would stop her, but still . . . “Don’t you feel a little guilty playing this guy?”
Madison huffed. “Not at all—he’s using me, too. He’s nice enough, but he’s so socially awkward, it’s not like he’s got girls flocking to hang out with him.” She grabbed the corn bread and tore a piece off. “If I can bring some amount of happiness to his lonely life, then don’t you think it’s worth a trip and maybe a few gifts?” She popped the corn bread into her mouth.
“Just be careful,” Claire insisted. This whole thing sounded like a bad idea, and she didn’t want her cousin to get hurt—or hurt someone else, for that matter.
Madison rolled her eyes. “Okay, Mom.”
Claire hid a smile. Finally. She’s back to her old self. Maybe she didn’t totally agree with Madison’s plan, but she didn’t want to strain their relationship again. She put her arm on Madison’s shoulder. “But . . . if you want to pick me up in the Porsche one day, I’ll have no objections,” she joked.
“Deal.” Madison grinned.
Claire and Laura hit the funnel cake stand while Gabby and Madison held the table, the delicious smell of fried food thick in the air. The line, which was moving at a glacial pace, snaked back through booths full of vendors selling knickknacks.
“So, how’s Brian doing?” Claire asked. They hadn’t had much time alone since Laura had been back, and Claire was worried about her friend—and how her relationship was holding up under all of that stress.
“Um, you know . . .” Laura said, edging forward in the line.
The girls sidestepped a wobbly man in a cowboy hat who was holding a bottle of Bud. “No, I don’t,” Claire said slowly. “What’s going on?”
“It’s just been really hard living with his parents,” Laura said with a sigh. “They’re so nice, but. . . .”
Cowboy Hat Man took a drunken stumble and fell to the ground. The girls jumped out of his way just in time. Claire shot him a look of disgust and turned her attention back to Laura. “But what?”