“Five-CD changer.”
Because you might need to listen to CDs and an iPod at the same time.
“DVD player in the back for Emma.”
Because, God forbid, we should have to entertain the child ourselves.
“Bluetooth connection.” He didn’t look so happy about that. “Though I don’t care for talking on the phone and driving, even hands free. We might have to see about disabling that.”
Because I certainly can’t be trusted.
Then he perked up again. “And Lanie, look here.” He opened the back door and flipped up the seat. “When Emma gets old enough for a booster seat, it has one built in.”
“Weight,” Lanie said.
“What?”
“Graduating from a car seat to a booster seat is based on weight, not age. Considering how petite she is, it will be a long time before she can use that.”
“I don’t trade cars every year. I buy a good one, take care of it, and drive it until it causes me trouble. We’ll still have this when Emma grows into a booster seat. And look at this!” He waved his hand excitedly and motioned her to the rear of the vehicle. This was about as excited as she’d ever seen him — apart for when they were having sex. “It’s got an outlet back here for an electric heater and cooler box. We don’t have the box yet but I ordered it.”
What? “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s for drinks and food. It can be hot or cold. I thought if you needed to deliver candy in the summer it would be handy.”
Except I don’t deliver candy. Wait. That wasn’t fair, exactly. She sometimes did for friends. She should say something positive.
“It’s very nice.” It was nice, way nicer than any vehicle she’d ever had. And the white was pearly iridescent. “I like the color.”
“Do you? Good. They had a blue one on the lot but it wasn’t as tricked out.”
Can’t have that. Tricks all around for all Averys.
“I’ve already called Charles Kincaid and arranged for the insurance. I’ll get the tag tomorrow. I thought we’d take your old car and leave it at the farm until we decide what to do about it.”
“Do about it?”
“I thought you’d probably sell it.”
“Sell my car?” Could she do nothing but repeat what he’d said in the form of a question? “That car was my grandmother’s.”
He tilted his head to the side, considering. “You don’t have to sell it. You can keep it. Or give it to one of your siblings. But we still need to take it to the farm. There are only two places out back to park. We don’t want to leave a vehicle on the street.”
“Or we could take your car to the farm.”
“Lanie, be serious.” He laughed. He thought she was kidding, though she might as well have been. He set about removing Emma’s car seat from the Porsche and installing it in the backseat of what looked like was going to be her vehicle. “I’ll drive the Camry so you can drive your new Volvo,” he said like he was an emperor passing out favors.
Resigned, she said, “Give me your keys and I’ll get my groceries.”
“Oh, I didn’t get them.” He didn’t look up but continued to secure the car seat. “I thought it would be easier if we just got something out after we leave the Camry at the farm.”
Her heart sank. He thought, did he? He thought! She turned to stalk away, but stopped when she caught sight of Emma, who was skipping and singing to herself in front of the shop. She bent and ran her little fingers over the pansies in the window box.
“All right,” she said to Luke. “I need to finish closing and change clothes. Emma, sweetheart.” She held her hand out to the child. “Come with me. Let’s get you a snack since it’s going to be a while until dinner.”
“Take your time,” Luke said cheerfully. “I’ll move my car around back and bring the Camry around. Oh, and Lanie? What do you think about going down to Birmingham this weekend? You’ve done so much for us. I want to buy you some new clothes at this little place where my sister and mother shop.” He smiled and did that lip-biting thing. “I was always told it was not proper to buy clothes for a woman, but since we’re engaged now that rule doesn’t count.”
She led Emma into the shop without answering. But Luke wasn’t expecting an answer. He was already headed toward the back of the building, whistling as he went. That and making plans for running her life.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Lanie would not have guessed that dress shops like the one Luke took her to existed outside of novels set after 1950. He had called ahead, so they were ready for them. Barbara, the owner, had escorted her and Luke into a room, settled them on a velvet settee, and served them wine, coffee, and finger food. While Emma played nearby, the staff had brought what seemed like hundreds of garments for her to consider — dresses, skirts, pants, shorts, sweaters, blouses, and formalwear. Luke pointed, gave orders, and ate dozens of sandwiches and cheese straws, all the while insisting he didn’t know anything about women’s clothing.
Every woman in the place adored him. After he’d handed down his opinions, he announced he was taking Emma for ice cream while they finished “squaring things away.”
Now, Lanie stood on a pedestal in front of a mirror while Helen, the alterations specialist, pinned, tucked, and chalked. She was in hell. The fittings had been going on for over an hour and she felt a little like Cinderella — and not the good parts.
Helen stepped back and scrutinized the red linen dress. Lanie had wanted to reject this dress, but Luke had begged her to try it on.
Helen lightly ran her hand over Lanie’s hip. “Beautiful. Just right. Red is so good on you.”
Lanie made herself peep at the huge Oz like mirror. She hadn’t had a red garment in years — well, except for some underwear. She relaxed. It wasn’t bad. Maybe Luke was right about this dress, just like he’d been right about the SUV.
The day she’d picked up dry cleaning, got groceries, and bought bags of planting soil for her balcony flower boxes, she’d had to grudgingly admit that having a larger vehicle was nice. And in spite of his high-handedness, it would have been ridiculous to expect him to get rid of the car he loved, when hers had only been a means to get from point A to point B. Her little brother John, who would be sixteen in August, was thrilled to be getting the Camry.
“Would you like to take a break before we pin up the party dress?” Helen asked as she carefully eased the red dress over Lanie’s head.
“No, let’s just do it.” The emerald green silk Breast Ball dress was the last one. Helen handed her a glass of water and helped her change into the four-inch heels that everyone thought were so great.
Helen took the dress from the hanger and began undoing the buttons.
“I’m still not sure about a short dress,” Lanie said. “I had thought something long. And I don’t usually do strapless or heels this high.” She held out her foot and looked at it.
“You should,” Helen said, helping her into the dress. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. This is perfect for your figure. And the color. It matches your eyes.” She began to pull and pin.
“You’ve worked here for a long time?” Lanie wanted to be friendly but she was tired of talking about clothes that showed too much of her.
She nodded. “I remember Luke and Arabelle as children. The senator was a judge then. Barbara wants us to call Luke and Arabelle Judge Avery and Dr. Avery now but I can’t. Mrs. Avery used to bring them in with her and sometimes I would play with them while Mrs. Avery looked at things.”
“She’s shopped here for a long time, then.”
“Oh, yes. We’ve always taken care of her even for the most important occasions — even presidential inaugurations.”
Lanie wondered if Carrie had shopped here. Not that it mattered.
“Turn a little toward
me, honey. And raise your arm. That’s good.” She pulled the bodice tighter. “It’s good to see Luke happy. Of course, I hadn’t seen him in years. After he got too big to come shopping with his mother, I only remember seeing him once when he came in one day with Arabelle. That is until — well … ”
“What?” Lanie asked.
Helen looked up and met her eyes in the mirror. “Until his wife died. I shouldn’t have brought this up. I get involved in what I’m doing and run my mouth. Barbara hates it when I do that.”
“No. Go ahead. Please. It’s not like I don’t know it happened.” And she had to hear what the woman was going to say.
“It was a Sunday morning. Barbara called me and told me what happened and said, ‘Helen, we’ve got to go to Mobile. Pack and meet me at the shop in an hour.’ And I did. We packed up my sewing machine and every black dress in the place. We drove down and checked into a hotel. Then we went over to the house to fit Mrs. Avery and Arabelle with dresses for the funeral. It was awful. Luke, with that baby. He just sat and held her. It was like he was dead too.”
Lanie searched for something to say, some way to respond but couldn’t come up with it.
There was no need. Helen brightened, and bent to pin the hem. “But he was alive again today. They’re a good family. You don’t always find that, especially with politicians. Believe me, working here, I’ve seen it all. There!” She spun Lanie around to look in the mirror. “Just look at yourself! I shortened it just barely a half inch but it makes all the difference in dowdy and sexy.”
Sexy? “I’m not sure,” she said but she took a closer look. She tried to pretend it was someone else in the mirror and had to admit it wasn’t bad.
Great in bed, he’d said. Great in bed! And he’d said it since with such enthusiasm and at just the right times. Maybe it really was true and it was going to keep being true.
Maybe she could like these new clothes, even if Luke had been arrogant and bossy about them. She pushed that out of her mind. A settled and quiet love. She pushed that out of her mind too.
It was easier to think about his eyes, his arms around her, his smile.
There was a knock on the fitting room door. Helen opened it a crack and turned to Lanie.
“Luke and Emma are back. He wants to know if they can come in.”
Lanie opened her mouth to say no but then she looked at herself again and flexed her leg and lifted her shoulders. Suddenly, she realized her body wasn’t her enemy anymore and she wanted him to see her in this dress.
“Sure.” She had thought the confidence she heard in her voice only came out when she was talking about the tempering of chocolate.
“Mommy!” Emma ran in and climbed on the pedestal.
“Careful of the pins, sweetheart.” She bent down and took Emma’s hands.
Then she caught sight of Luke in the mirror. He stepped up to the pedestal and swung Emma onto his hip, but never took his eyes off Lanie.
What she saw in his eyes was surprise, appreciation, and, finally, lust. A slow smile crept onto his face.
“We’ve done good work today,” he said.
She looked at herself again and thought of the bra, thong, garter belt, and teddy she’d found online last week and dismissed as too expensive. But they were emerald green, a perfect match for this dress. She was worth it. He was worth it.
She’d show him settled and quiet.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It had been a good day in court. That wasn’t always so. What Luke’s gut told him and what the law said he had to do weren’t always the same thing. Today, it had been. A child molester was going away for a long, long time — maybe forever. It was days like today that reminded Luke why he loved his work.
On a different day, he would have put on his jacket before stepping onto the street, but the late afternoon May sunshine looked soft and pleasant. He rolled up his sleeves and folded his jacket over his arm. It wasn’t quite five when he reached home, so he entered through the shop front. Kathryn looked up from where she was buzzing around the coffee bar getting things ready for the next morning.
She smiled. She always smiled. “Judge.” Come to think of it, these days most of the world smiled.
“Hello, Kathryn. Good day?”
“Great day. Phillip put a Mother’s Day ad up on the website and the orders are pouring in.”
Mother’s Day. He needed to take care of that.
He heard the music in the hallway before he opened the door. The walls were thick so that meant the CD player was positively blaring. “Mustang Sally.” There was no way to play it but loud and Lanie knew that. He smiled as he opened the swinging kitchen door. Lanie had abandoned the asparagus she’d been cleaning and was dancing with Emma and singing along with the song. She had her back to him and was bent over, holding Emma’s hands.
She could dance. For a second, he’d been too distracted by her shorts clad bottom and her long perfect legs to notice, but damn, she could dance. Why didn’t he know that? Inspired by the music and those legs, he threw his jacket on the chair, grabbed Lanie’s hand, spun her out, and reeled her in.
Neither she nor Emma had noticed him until then. Emma laughed and clapped her hands. Lanie looked startled, but smiled and fell in with the rhythm of the West Coast Swing. He felt like showing off. It had just been that kind of day. He pulled her under his arm so they were dancing with her back against his front and then swung her out again. She never missed a beat or a step, even when he dipped her and gave her bottom a squeeze.
When the music ended, she clapped her hands in front of her face. “You can dance!”
He felt himself grin. Why had he never noticed before that a grin felt different from a smile?
“That’s what I thought about you when I came in.” He picked Emma up, kissed her, and threw her into the air. Then he sat down and pulled Lanie onto his lap. “Where’d you learn to dance like that? During your self-exploration phase?”
“No.” She laughed. “Before that. I didn’t feel much like dancing then. But I used to dance a lot. Where did you learn?”
“Dance class — seventh grade. I was too shy to talk to girls but I found out if I was the best dancer, they’d want to dance with me anyway. So I practiced. In my room. Alone.”
She pushed his hair away from his face. “Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you. They wanted to dance with you because you’re gorgeous!”
“Me?” He laughed. “Oh, no. You should have seen me then.”
“Your eyes are the color of Windex.”
“Windex? I haven’t heard that before.”
“Don’t try to tell me no one has ever commented on your eyes.”
“No. They have. I’ve heard sapphires and Caribbean sea water but never Windex.”
“Well, I don’t have any sapphires and I’ve never been to the Caribbean. I am, however, well acquainted with Windex.”
“We might need to fix that.”
“Daddy!” Emma pulled on his sleeve. “Throw me again!”
“Throw you again?” He got up, threw her into the air, and caught her.
Lanie went back to her abandoned asparagus. “Don’t throw her too far into outer space. Dinner is in a half hour.”
He kissed Emma and set her on her feet. “I’m going to change and make a few calls, unless you need me.”
“That’s fine.” Lanie tossed the asparagus with olive oil.
“Throw me again!” Emma said.
“No, Emma,” Lanie said. “Let Daddy do what he needs to. He’ll throw you again later.”
“But I want … ” Emma’s little voice faded as he let the door close behind him. He knew Lanie would say the right words to prevent a meltdown.
• • •
After putting SpongeBob on for Emma in the living room, Lanie went back to the
kitchen and turned on the oven to roast the asparagus. The shrimp salad she’d made earlier was chilling. She’d bought some good crusty French bread and there was ice cream for dessert. Emma was a pretty adventurous eater but if she wouldn’t eat the shrimp, there was some leftover chicken and rice in the refrigerator.
Too bad she didn’t have time to make Luke some banana pudding. It had been a long time since she’d felt so energetic, so good. She’d been embarrassed for a fraction of second when Luke caught her dancing, but look how well that had turned out. They had moved together like they were part of a cosmic plan. Who’d have thought precise, pressed Luke would be willing to cut loose and go where the music took him? Of course, considering the way he was willing to cut loose in bed, it wasn’t that surprising. Wait. She might be on to something. Maybe people who were good together in bed also danced well together. Come to think of it, Alexander couldn’t dance a lick. Oh, he thought he could, but what he did wasn’t dancing.
Luke was another matter. Suddenly she couldn’t wait until the Breast Ball, couldn’t wait for everyone to see what good dancers they were. And now that she had this new theory, she could watch other couples and speculate to herself about their sex lives. She giggled out loud. Or maybe she wouldn’t speculate just to herself. She might tell Luke so they could laugh together about it. Yeah. Considering the things they did to each other, that was definitely something she could say to him. He was, after all, going to be her husband. She’d felt like a mother from the beginning but now she was beginning to feel married — like a wife. Maybe they didn’t have to wait until his parents returned to set the date.
It was still a few minutes until the oven would be hot enough for the asparagus. She wanted to share her new theory with Luke, laugh with him about it. Maybe she could catch him between phone calls. At any rate, she’d take him a beer. Humming “Mustang Sally,” Lanie fished the bottle opener out of the utensil drawer.
On her way to the bedroom, she ran her hand over Emma’s curls and straightened the pillows on the sofa.
She was about to enter the bedroom where Luke was talking on the phone when she heard him say, “Yes. A mixed bouquet for Mother’s Day. I want them delivered the Friday before.”
Sweet Gone South Page 21
