“Sorry!” Madison laughed and went back to kissing Cash.
Claire drove home alone through the winding back roads, the streets lit only by her headlights. By the time she got back to her pretty little house, which sat at the end of a cul-de-sac, all of her anger from earlier in the day had drained away. So what if she and Gavin were having a little rough patch physically? She thought again of the dark bar and its sticky floors, the girls half-dressed and desperate for attention, Ricky Broussard and his leering gaze, and practically shuddered. Who would want that kind of life?
She tiptoed into their bedroom, her movements masked by Gavin’s loud snoring, and slipped on her favorite Lilly Pulitzer-esque pink-and-green floral pajamas from Target. For a moment, she considered seducing her husband in his sleep—Gavin waking up to the feel of himself inside of her. But remembering the scene in the living room earlier, she slid silently under the covers instead. Looking at Gavin sleeping peacefully next to her, she reminded herself that she was perfectly happy with the life she had.
4
gabrielle
“WE’RE THE YOUNGEST people in here by fifty years!” Gabby Vaughn yelled to her boyfriend, Tony Ford, as they two-stepped and twirled their way around the dance floor of a wood-paneled restaurant.
Tony grinned and kissed her on the cheek. “But their fried crawfish is magnifique!” He spun her again so quickly that she barely noticed when an elderly man in a plaid shirt and red suspenders swooped in and grabbed her hand.
“Well, hello there, young lady,” the man said, bouncing to the upbeat rhythm of the piano accordion and washboard coming from the zydeco band onstage.
“Uh, hi!” she said, laughing. To her right, Tony was now carefully bopping up and down with a short grandma in a long floral dress, probably Suspender Man’s wife.
The white-haired man clapped his hands to the beat. “I may be old, but I got better moves than your boyfriend.”
Gabby spun on his lead. “You are good at this. Do you come here a lot?”
“Well, yeah.” He swung her arms from side to side to the music. “Every Friday. Whole group of us.” He pointed to all his aged friends dancing around them.
“I hope I’m as cool as you when I’m y’alls age,” Gabby shouted over the music. She could just see her friends growing old together like that. Claire would be the old lady in the corner cheering everyone on. Laura would be the one at the bar getting her man another beer. And Madison would be the one with the rose tattoo on her arm, flirting with all the widowed guys on the dance floor.
“Key is to dance every day,” the old man said, clapping his hands as the song finished. “My wife and I do it in the living room . . . in the kitchen . . . in the bathroom. Keeps you young.”
Gabby looked at him, eyes wide, hoping he was talking about dancing. “Well, thank you for the dance,” she said, shaking the man’s liver-spotted hand.
“Thank you, my dear,” he said as Tony came over to exchange partners. The old man turned to him. “You got a good one, son.”
Tony slid his arm around Gabby’s waist. “I am well aware, sir.”
She looked up at him and smiled. She still had to remind herself sometimes that this wasn’t a dream. Tony—smart, kind, well-mannered Tony—was unlike any of the guys she’d dated in Toulouse. In fact, he was the complete opposite of her last boyfriend, Russell Stevens, who’d left her crying on the side of Main Street after a stupid debate over an Adam Sandler movie they’d just seen. Before that was Klepto Connor—she had a feeling her Sweet Sixteen necklace was still in his possession. Freshman year, there was Jimmy Hill, who was so high all the time that he forgot 90 percent of their plans. Her track record with guys was so bad that sometimes, she couldn’t help wondering: Were they the problem . . . or was she?
But then Tony came along four months ago. From their first date, Gabby felt like there was something different about this relationship. He was serious—about his life, and about her—but balanced it with a dashing smile and witty personality. They always made each other laugh. Although she knew it might be impossible, Gabby hoped that this relationship was the one that would last. . . .
“Let’s go eat!” Tony said, snapping her out of her thoughts. A waitress led them to a table by the window that overlooked the lake.
“This is perfect,” Gabby said as Tony pulled her plastic chair out for her.
“The table, or your life?” He grinned as he sat down in his own seat.
She giggled. “Both.”
Tony grabbed her hands from across the table. The red-and-white-checkered vinyl tablecloth was still a little sticky from someone else’s gumbo. “You look amazing tonight.”
She felt a blush bloom across her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Her fitted burgundy dress was a hand-me-down from Claire. Though Gabby felt bad her friend was still struggling to lose her baby weight, it admittedly wasn’t terrible to benefit from it. Each week, it seemed like Claire was discovering some nearly new item that wouldn’t fit her anymore, and Gabby was more than happy to take the clothes off her hands.
Tony unlocked his fingers from hers and looked down at his menu. “What are you gonna get?”
“It all looks so good,” she said, scanning the laminated paper. So far, all of Tony’s restaurant picks had been amazing, but the grainy photos next to the menu items secretly worried her.
“I know this place is a little cheesy, but seriously, babe, the food is awesome.” He glanced at her over the top of his menu. “My family used to come here all the time. The couple who owns it has been running it since my parents were our age.”
She looked around. The room was packed with families and groups of older people, like their new friends from the dance floor. The whole restaurant had a slight shabbiness to it, like a grandparent’s house—the result of being loved for decades. “It’s great.”
He leaned closer to her. “I told my ma we were coming, so she gave me a five-dollar bill and said I had to order the stuffed mushrooms for you.”
Gabby laughed. “Why the stuffed mushrooms?”
“Because they’re her favorite and no one else in my family eats mushrooms. She got excited when you ate yours when you came over for dinner.” He put his menu down and looked at her slyly. “That means you’re in.”
“Don’t jinx it. Still haven’t met your dad.” The idea of meeting Mr. Ford made Gabby nervous. Tony looked up to his dad so much; she worried his approval would make or break their relationship. Every time she went over to Tony’s family’s house, the patriarch was at work or out of town. A high-powered career politician, he was currently serving as a Louisiana congressman. A snarky DC blog once gave him the nickname “Smokey,” not only because of his chain-smoking habit, but also for the pace at which he fired staffers. He was well connected in DC and Louisiana; the governor was Tony’s godfather.