I sympathized. “Or what about this? Has this happened? Where someone comes up to you and acts all friendly, ‘How are you doing? How have you been?’ But the whole time you just know they’re thinking ‘Wait till I call so-and-so and tell her what’s going on!’”
Ashley gasped. “Oh my God, that happened yesterday! I ran into Missy Milliner at Dillard’s, you know her, right?” I shook my head. “She’s Katherine’s first cousin on her mother’s side, so of course she’s heard about everything. It was so obvious she was pumping me for information!” Ashley looked relieved. “Jane, you totally get it!”
“I told you I live it,” said I. “By the way, what’s the news on our jail time? Has it gotten out?”
“No. I think Uncle Walter really squashed it.”
“We should write him a thank-you note. ‘Dear Mr. Walter, thank you for saving our butts and keeping jail time off our permanent records.’”
Ashley laughed, and so did I. Wow, laughing with Ashley. One for the history books, as Mallory would say.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering, Jane,” Ashley said. “That night, down at the bay, you tried to save me, didn’t you?”
I looked away.
“Because I’ve been thinking about it,” she continued. “And I remember it was you who pushed so hard for us have a dance party. Then to leave. You knew what was happening and you tried to get me out of there, didn’t you?”
Finally, I nodded.
“Why did you do that for me? After I was so horrible to you? Why?”
I shrugged. “Oh, you know, that party was boring anyway. All those drunk bastards running around with their Ping-Pong paddles and their beer bongs. It was time to go.”
Ashley leveled a no-nonsense “I am not letting you get away with that answer” look at me.
“Okay, fine,” I confessed. “I just didn’t think anyone deserved that kind of humiliation. Not even you.”
“Wow. Thanks, Jane.”
“You’re welcome.” Ashley reached for another cigarette but I knocked her hand away. “Ashley! You don’t smoke!”
“I can’t help it. I’m just so nervous.” Her fingers tapped incessantly on the arms of Grandmother’s antique wooden rocking chairs. “It’s funny, Jane. I’ve been thinking about what you and Zara said the other night, about Jimmy. About how it sounded like I was just doing what everybody, what my mother, expected.”
“Really?”
“I’m starting to wonder if I ever really liked him, I mean for me. Or if it was just for her.” She sighed. “But still, I don’t think I can do this, Jane. I can’t go out in public and be the laughingstock of the young set.” All the breath in her body exploded out in an even deeper sigh. “I have to quit.”
“Quit what? The Magnolia Maids?” I leapt out of my chair. “What! No, no, no. You can’t quit, too!”
She burst out laughing. “Wait. You are trying to get me not to quit?”
“Seriously, Ashley, you can’t skulk around town hiding from everyone until you go off to college! You have to make your next public appearance a huge triumphant splash! You have to put on your beached-whale dress and twirl your parasol and go out there and show everyone that you’re just fine. In fact, you’re perfect. In fact, Ashley part two, now that that cretin James is out of your life, is more than perfect. You’re better than ever.”
A slow grin crept across Ashley’s face. “Oh my God, Jane, that’s good advice!”
“I know. I’m the expert at picking fights and throwing things in people’s faces.” I flashed a grin that could only be described as rueful.
She grinned back. “That’s true, you are.”
I chose my next words carefully, knowing full well I was going out on a limb. “But Ashley, I don’t mean to sound mean, but you really are a controlling, demanding princess. You do have a knack for making life hell for people.” I braced myself for a furious response.
But I am happy to say that Ashley didn’t shake me off at all. “I am starting to realize that,” she replied. “Except I prefer to use the word belle. Controlling, demanding belle.” She winked, which totally made me giggle, which got her started giggling and before I knew it, we were giggling together. Our giggles turned into belly laughs, and our belly laughs led us over the invisible threshold of enmity into friendship. Had my own worst enemy just turned out to be a friend? Dear Lord! Sorry, Brandi Lyn.
When the laughing stopped, Ashley wiped away her tears and said, “No, I’m realizing that maybe it’s time to let some things go. That maybe I don’t have to control everything. Just some things.”
“Awww, progress. So nice to see.”
“Let’s say I do stay on with the Magnolias. This thing is a mess. How in the world are we going to get it together?”
“I know. Every day I sit here and ask myself what Cecilia would do.”
“Cecilia?”
“My mom! The most perfect Magnolia Maid ever? You may have heard of her?” I sighed. “She’d know how to pacify everybody’s hurt feelings, how to save Caroline from her worst nightmare ever, scrounge up some dress for Brandi Lyn….”
And that’s when it hit me. Sweet Maids a-Milking! Of course! The answer was right in front of me! I flew out of my chair and yanked Ashley out of her seat so fast, sweet tea exploded out of her glass and onto the tile floor.
We didn’t even stop to clean it up.
Chapter Nineteen
Master plans require finesse, elegance, allowances for contingencies, and just for fun, the element of surprise. During my tenure as mischief maker numero uno at my various boarding schools, I developed quite a facility for masterminding the most demanding plans. However, unlike those, Operation Return to Magnolia was about making things go right. Not wrong. Right. At a public event. With oh, say, a thousand people in attendance. The stakes were as high as that poker game in Casino Royale, the one with superhottie Mr. Daniel Craig. Every step of the plan had to come off without a hitch. In the hours following the unexpected solidification of our friendship, Ashley and I designed the foolproof plan, and it went something like this:
Step one: the makeups after the breakups. We piled into Ashley’s Escalade and swung by Mallory’s so that the healing could begin. Mallory burst into tears when she answered the door and saw Ashley. She blubbered on and on about how sorry she was and she didn’t mean it about Ashley being such a difficult person and would she ever forgive her? Ashley countered, “No, you’re right, I was a bitch.” That dried Mallory’s tears in like a millisecond. You should have seen the way she looked at Ashley, as if she had suddenly been inhabited by aliens. “Really? You… agree with me?” Ashley admitted that we both had decided to turn over a new leaf. We outlined our master plan and, in a fit of hysterical delight, Mallory got on board.
Step two: My making up with Zara, was a lot more complicated. We piled back into the Escalade, and drove out to the country club where Zara’s cousin Chinay let us in and told us we’d find her out by the tennis court. Zara was out there banging the crap out of tennis balls flying at her at eighty mph, courtesy of the latest in tennis-ball-serving technology. To say she was stunned to see the three of us parade onto her court would be putting it mildly. Five tennis balls in a row whizzed by her head, hitting the wall behind her before she gathered herself up and resumed lobbing the balls back across the net. I have to hand it to Zara. She’s no Williams sister but she could hit that ball for sure. Ashley and Mallory shot the breeze with her for a few minutes, commenting on how lovely her home was and how lucky she was to have a tennis court, she must just love that. Zara grunted out polite comments in between hits, but it was clear she wasn’t really thrilled to have us there. Me, I stood watching each ball shoot out of the machine, vaguely listening to this conversation go down until Ashley announced we were here on a mission.
“Go ahead, Jane,” said Ashley. “Tell her.”
“Tell me what?” Zara didn’t even glance my way.
I cleared my throat. “Well. Um. I’ve been th
inking about what you said. And you’re right. I’m the one who pushed things so that we got in trouble. And if I had kept my mouth shut, we would have gone home and gone to bed and slept like little angels.”
Zara slammed another ball over the net. Was it my imagination or was she banging on those balls even harder than when we arrived?
“And?” prompted Ashley.
“And that even though I am often convinced that I am the all-knowing mistress of the universe, I should respect your feelings about how to handle situations that apply to you.”
“And?”
“And I’m going to try to keep my mouth a little more closed and try to be a little more civil in my approach to discord.”
“And?”
Oh shoot. Here came the hard part. I became riveted by the top of the tennis net blowing in Bienville’s perky summer wind.
“Jane?” Ashley prompted.
I sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
Zara stopped hitting the ball. Put down her racket. Turned off the machine. “Okay, I accept. And thank you. But why did it take all three of you to come over here for one of you to apologize?” So we told her our master plan, she agreed it was genius, and we quickly bundled ourselves back into the Escalade.
Next step: Caroline.
Mizz Upton nearly had a fit when she saw us all on her front porch. “I am as delighted I can be that you girls are finally getting along! Isn’t it wonderful? And are we electing a queen today?”
“No, not today,” said Ashley.
“But soon,” I added.
Mizz Upton sent us upstairs looking for Caroline. Really, all we wanted was Caroline’s stamp of approval before we went any further. We were pretty sure she’d give it to us, but no one expected her to burst into tears of joy. She cried and cried and thanked us profusely then hopped in the car and off we went in pursuit of step four: Brandi Lyn.
I called Brandi Lyn’s house, and her mother told us that she was working but she sure would love for us to visit! So we all drove out to the Bienville Causeway, that long thin strip of land that traverses the Bienville Bay. It’s a survivor, that strip of land. Like Brandi Lyn. It’s lived through so many hurricanes and tropical storms, people say it’s blessed. Well, except for the hollow shells of a dozen former motels and restaurants that were beaten into submission by 150 mph winds and thirty-foot waves. But not Karl’s! The original Karl (I think it’s Karl IV who runs the place now) opened up a fried seafood stand back in the forties, then added a dining room off one side here, another off that side there, as the place grew more popular with each passing decade. When the hurricanes got bad, one of the Karls hired a couple of cranes and lifted the whole ramshackle sprawl of a place up on stilts not one, not two, but three stories high. You’ve got a great view—almost out to the Gulf of Mexico—once you take a seat at your table, but it is a major pain in the butt to get up there just to get your eat on. Believe it or not, there’s no elevator.
Brandi Lyn went into hysterics when she saw us. “I cannot believe that y’all have taken the time to come and see me! It is so sweet! I’ve been missing you all week and here you are! Come and sit! Here! Have the best picnic table in the joint! And a basket of Karl’s World Famous Puppies and Poppers—a delicious combination of hush puppies and jalapeño poppers (they’re hot but not toooooooo hot)—on me!”
As we dove into Puppies and Poppers and brown plastic tumblers of Diet Coke, I got down to business. “Brandi Lyn,” I said, “we need you. And we have decided, as a group, that we are not letting you quit.”
“Oh, y’all are so cute! I am such a lucky girl! But you know I can’t afford it.”
“Yes you can.” And I laid out the next stages of the master plan.
When I was done, Brandi Lyn chewed on her lip. “I don’t know, Jane. That’s still a thousand dollars, easy, I bet!”
Ashley shrugged. “We’re going to pay for it.”
“You are?” Brandi Lyn couldn’t hide her surprise.
“I know I fought against you,” Ashley said. “But you’re an asset to the Magnolia Maid community and we need you.”
We all nodded our agreement.
“But it’s too much!” Brandi Lyn protested. “I can’t ask that of y’all!”
“I’d withdraw a thousand dollars of my own money right this very second if I didn’t have to be a Magnolia Maid,” Caroline said, nodding vigorously.
Brandi Lyn burst into tears of joy. Sweet Willows a-Weeping, we were a crying bunch today. Brandi Lyn got another waitress to cover the rest of her shift, and we headed off into the hot, hot humidity to activate steps five through five thousand of the master plan.
It was going to be an action-packed couple of days.
It almost worked. The flurry of activity and excitement I had generated by figuring out the answer to the question, “What would Cecilia do?” had almost gotten my mind off Luke.
Almost.
But not quite.
Every so often—okay, every five seconds or so—my encounters with Luke would pop into my head. And I’m not sure which was more harrowing, reliving the “he has a girlfriend” moment that made things suck, the “saving the bird” moment when things seemed awesome, or the ancient “busted by Cosmo” moment that served as the beginning of the end. All I knew was that I was NOT looking forward to seeing him again.
Unless it involved him crawling back to me with a dozen roses in his mouth, apologizing and begging me to forgive him.
As if there were a snowball’s chance in high humidity of that.
Chapter Twenty
“Where are they?” Caroline asked, her voice just loud enough to carry across the Boysenthorp Manor ladies’ parlor where we were all dressing in anticipation of our impending grand debut.
“Shhhhhh!” I whispered, jerking my head in the direction of her mother. Mizz Upton was a nervous Nelly fluttering between Mallory and Ashley, making sure their dresses were fitting right. “Sure, Caroline, I’ll fix your bow for you!” I announced cheerfully, acting like I was snapping her bow on the back of her dress. “Let me put a little extra fluff in that.” I leaned close to Caroline’s ear and lowered my voice. “They’ll be here, don’t worry.”
If truth be told, though, I was a little worried, too. We had decided to proceed according to Mizz Upton’s game plan, meaning that we had dragged Caroline, dress and all, down to Boysenthorp Gardens and insisted that she act as if she were going to make her debut with us. The idea behind this was that the less notice we gave Mizz Upton of the changes we were making in the lineup, the less time she would have to create reasons to prevent Brandi Lyn from coming out with us. But Caroline was right to be worried. Brandi Lyn was supposed to have arrived ten minutes ago with Teddy Mac Trenton and Lacey Wilkes Hawkes. Where were they?
I whipped out my iPhone and dialed Brandi Lyn. “Where are you?” I whispered.
Brandi Lyn’s voice was shaking with nerves. “Something happened with the hem! I don’t know!”
“But you’re on your way, right?”
“We-ell, no, not quite yet.”
“Brandi Lyn!” I screeched, then caught myself as Mizz Upton turned in my direction. I waved excitedly to Mizz Upton. “It’s Brandi Lyn calling to wish us good luck.” The Bobbed Monster gave a curt nod and left to inspect the Grand Verandah where we would be presented. “Brandi Lyn, the ceremony starts in thirty minutes. You have to get out here and get yourself dressed. Tell Miss Dinah Mae she has to stop.”
Brandi Lyn sighed. “I know, but I hate to hurry her….”
“Brandi Lyn, just do it! She can fix the hem later!” I hung up before she could argue. The girls surrounded me, concerned.
Caroline gave me the most pained look ever.
“It will be fine. They’ll be here.” But not one of them looked reassured.
“I’m just so nervous. Aren’t y’all nervous?” Mallory attempted to slip her gauntlet—this totally pointless concoction of lace—over her fingers. Again and again, she couldn’t get the el
astic over her middle finger.
“Terribly.” Zara nodded, picking at her ruffles.
“About to come out of my skin,” said Ashley, swaying back and forth to redistribute the weight of her dress.
“Me too,” I admitted. “With this Brandi Lyn thing and my dad coming, I’m about to die.”
“When’s he gonna get here?” asked Zara.
“Soon, I guess. He flew into New Orleans, so he’s driving over.” I thought for a moment. “Come on, y’all, we cannot let this get to us. I know! Let’s do a dress check. Mallory, you want to kick it off?”
She halfheartedly agreed, leading us through the insane list of items we were supposed to have on our bodies. “Let’s, uh, start with the bottom then,” said Mallory. “Pantaloons?” We lifted our skirts to check for the bloomers with giant pockets that we had to wear under the dress. Magnolia Maids aren’t allowed to carry purses, so this is where we hid our lipstick, cell phones, car keys, etc.
“Check.”
“Check.”
“Check.”
It was precisely at the moment that I had my skirts lifted to my stomach and I was about to say “check” when a male voice unexpectedly intruded into our lair. “Uh, Jane?”
Thrilled, I whirled around. “Cos—Dad?” But it wasn’t Cosmo who stood in the threshold.
It was Luke.
“Hi,” he said, all tentative. Looking oh-so-handsome in dress pants and a jacket.
I was astonished. “Uh, hi, Luke. You know, um… the dandies are all congregating down on the lawn. There should be some seats reserved in the first row.”
“Yeah, I know. They’re all down there. Except Teddy Mac.”
“He’s on his way.”
“Good, good. And you know Ashley’s cousin Henry took James’s place.”
“Yeah. Seems like a good choice.”
“Sure.” Luke’s gaze traveled over to the other Maids, who were all staring at us like we were the live version of a reality show. “Um… can we go somewhere a little more private?”
Never Sit Down in a Hoopskirt and Other Things I Learned in Southern Belle Hell Page 21