Hey, Good Looking

by Fern Michaels

  “Oh, that’s a plan all right, you twit! Did you forget about his teeth? What are you going to do,scare him into submission?” Ducky exploded.

  Dodo’s jaw dropped. “Sometimes, Ducky, you absolutely amaze me. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Here’s the plan.” She whispered so the dog wouldn’t hear what she was saying. “Wait right here, I’ll be back in a second.” Ducky rolled her eyes while Diddy just shook her head, never taking her eyes off the wary retriever.

  The dining-room door suddenly blasted open as Dodo burst into the room, a black ninja mask covering her head and face. Only her eyes were visible. Her feet left the floor and came back down in a wide V stance at the same moment she screeched, “Eyowwww!” her arms windmilling all over the place. Willie cowered against the wall, his ears going flat against his head. He whined as Ducky and Diddy scooped him up and carried him to the laundry tub while Dodo brought up the rear.

  Within seconds, all three women were soaked to the skin, Ducky’s sheer dress hung in shreds from Willie’s claws. Diddy’s ample bosom heaved as she struggled to soap and rinse the wriggling dog. Dodo stood on the sidelines with an armful of thick towels.

  When the spray attachment on the faucet came to life, Willie decided he’d had enough and leaped out of the tub, skidded across the tile floor, righted himself, and beelined for the back staircase, where he disappeared from sight.

  All three women started to squawk at one time. Ducky pointed to her designer dress and screeched at her sisters. “It’s ruined. Take off that damn mask, Dodo, you look like a…like a ninja!”

  “Thank you,” Dodo said. “Go home. I’ll clean this up. The dog was scared. You’d be scared, too, if someone dumped you in a sink of water. Well, maybe you wouldn’t, Ducky,” she sniped.

  “Just a damn minute, Dodo. What the hell does that mean?”

  “What I mean was…is…you were never shy about taking off your clothes in front of people. I remember a time or two when you skinny-dipped in front of men. Don’t bother to deny it either.”

  “What does any of this have to do with giving the dog a bath? Admit it, you’re jealous of me. You were always jealous of me.”

  “True,” Dodo admitted. “If I’d been nipped and tucked, sliced and diced as many times as you have, I’d look pretty damn good, too.”

  Ducky flopped down on one of the kitchen chairs. What was left of her dress dripped water on the floor. She shrugged. This was all familiar ground that never went anywhere.

  “Let’s have a beer before we call it a night,” said Diddy, ever the peacemaker.

  “Okay,” Dodo said agreeably.

  “I am thirsty,” Ducky said.

  “We need to make a plan here,” Diddy said as she set three bottles of the family beer in the center of the table. “A doable plan. I say we make a plan to run Bella out of town before she gets a firm toehold here in the shoe. Now, let’s put our heads together and figure out something before it’s too late.”

  Three beer bottles clinked together before they were upended.

  The Lane sisters were on a roll.

  3

  Bella Gunn was almost out of her mind with happiness as she discarded one outfit after another in her attempt to be the best-dressed woman at theRougie tea. She’d redone her makeup twice, and was now on her seventh outfit. She wished there was someone she could ask for advice. If ever there was a time to be in perfect tune with the women of Baton Rouge, this was it.

  She’d been so stunned when Honoria Tribedoux called to invite her to tea, she’d actually been tongue-tied. Somehow or other she’d managed to accept and to scribble down the time and place. An hour from now she would be sitting down to tea at one of the houses in the Garden District that she’d lusted after for years and years. There was a God after all, and he was smiling down on one Bella Gunn.

  She should have gone shopping for something new, but that wasn’t the way theRougies did things. They wore clothes that they accessorized and never went out of style. The same little black dress, the same long black skirt, the same shoes with a buckle or a leather flower. They certainly had the means to buy new things but newthings weren’t important to those women.

  She’d read up on old money, but she would never understand it. Who wanted to sit on the same smelly old furniture your ancestors sat on a hundred years ago? Still, if she wanted to belong, she was going to have to do the same thing and pretend to like it.

  Bella stepped into a sheer flowered dress that looked like it was at least twenty years old and ideal for a lady on a hot summer day. She needed to lookwilted.

  He cologne was summery, too. Light. Lily of the Valley.

  As much as she wanted to show up in the Garden District in her chauffeured car, she knew she was going to have to drive herself. TheRougies were not ostentatious in any way. She’d actually seen them pedaling bicycles to and fro on their errands. Well, that was never going to happen where she was concerned.

  Bella looked in the mirror and wanted to cry. She’d plastered herpoufy see-through hair close to her head into tight little curls. She thought she looked like a wrinkled Shirley Temple. Oh well, when in Rome…

  Straw bag in hand, gloves tucked into the handle, Bella started the engine of her car. She’d made three dry runs over the past few days, late at night, to judge the time it would take her to make the short trip to the Garden District. Thirteen minutes if she hit every single green light, seventeen minutes if she hit one red light, and twenty-one minutes if she hit all three red lights.

  All the way to the District, Bella did her breathing exercises, hoping to calm her frazzled nerves. This was so important. So long in coming.

  And then she was there. There were three other cars parked along the curb. She wasn’t the first one to arrive. That was good. Being the last, even though in some circles it was considered fashionable to be late, was not an option.

  Bella looked up and down the beautiful street with the angel oaks that dripped Spanish moss, at the colorful flower beds that looked like they’d just been manicured. She’d heard more than once that the garden ladies were out working on their flowers and lawns the minute the sun came up. Like she would ever do something like that. That was why she had gardeners.

  The walkway up to Honoria’s veranda consisted of hand-painted, colored walking stones with bits of manicured grass growing in between. Each stone had a hand-painted ladybug, dragonfly, or some other winged creature. Bella was careful not to step on the winged creatures.

  The veranda was awash in color and smelled heavenly. She looked to her left and saw a trellis with Confederate jasmine that was lush and full. Yellow clay pots full of gardenias sat at each side of the doorway. The scent was almost overpowering. All along the railing were other colored pots with petunias, Gerber daisies, and impatiens. Thick lush ferns hung from the rafters next to paddle fans that circulated the scented air.

  The furniture was old wicker, scuffed and scratched. Definitely used. The dark green fiber carpets were also old, almost threadbare.

  The last thing she noticed were the windows, nine over nine, as they were called, with the wavy glass that made you sick to your stomach when you looked through it. It was old, original, and valuable.

  Bella rang the doorbell as she tried not to look through the screen door into the long hallway with the steep staircase leading to the second floor. She was appalled to see a hole in the screen door big enough to stick her finger through. Whatdid these people spend their money on? Maybe they didn’t spend it at all, and that’s why they said old money was moldy.

  “Mrs. Gunn, how nice to see you. Please come in,” Honoria Tribedoux said, holding the screen door wide open for Bella to step through.

  “It was nice of you to invite me,” Bella gushed.

  “Come in, come in. We’re just waiting for Justine, and she’s always late. Usually we’re just about wrapping things up when she favors us with her company.”

  Bella followed her hostess down the long, dark hallway to an eq
ually dark dining room. The house smelled musty and old, the scent fighting with the overpowering smell of fresh flowers that were everywhere.

  They were seated around a long, elegant draped table. Sterling silver tea service, exquisite china, priceless silverware that was as old as the house. Heirlooms. Something she did not have. The tablecloth was old, fine linen, and in several places Bella could see that someone had mended it. Obviously another heirloom. Even though she didn’t like old things, she suddenly wanted all she was seeing.

  “You know everyone, Bethany, Marjorie, Celine, Sarabess, Helene and Ethel, don’t you, Mrs. Gunn? Justine will be along at some point.”

  Bella’s head bobbled around as she acknowledged the women who had refused to admit her into their exclusive circle for so many years. She wondered if they would laugh if she told them how many nights she’d cried herself to sleep over their rejection. “Yes, of course. Please, call me Bella.”

  “Tea?” Honoria said, assuming her role as hostess. “I made the scones myself this morning. I think, Bethany, they are almost as good as your mama’s.”

  Bella couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a cup of tea, and she didn’t think she’d ever had a scone either. When in Rome…

  “I think the decision you made regarding your stepson’s organs was magnificent. How hard that must have been for you. I don’t know if I could have done that. What was going through your mind when you made that awesome decision?” Celine asked.

  Bella lowered her teacup to the saucer, amazed that her hand wasn’t trembling, shocked that she didn’t spill her tea. She’d rehearsed this very speech a hundred times over the past few days and had it down pat. She looked around at the women staring at her. She’d hungered for this very meeting, visualizing it over the years. She allowed her eyes to fill with tears. For the first time in her life, she felt important.

  “It…it was the hardest thing I ever had to do. As you know, my husband is…very ill. I tried discussing it with him, but he didn’t seem to…to understand. His thought processes just aren’t the same anymore. Time was of the essence, according to the doctors. When he told me how many lives could be either saved or helped, the decision wasn’t that hard. It saddened me, so I couldn’t eat or sleep for days. I’m still…what I mean is…I just have a hard time discussing it. I didn’t want to speak on television, but the reporters told me it would help other people make similar decisions.”

  “Well, I think it was a splendid thing you did. You’re a heroine in my eyes,” Celine said.

  “No, I’m just a mother. Actually, I’m not really a mother, just a stepmother. Not a wicked one, however,” she said, with a rueful smile.

  “Nonsense,” Marjorie said, biting into a scone. “Never hide your light under a bushel, my dear. Now, what is this we hear about your restoring the houses in the shoe that belong to the Gunn family?”

  “Oh, my, I didn’t think anyone was aware of that. They’re an eyesore to the shoe, as you know. Marcus for some reason didn’t…wasn’t…I just thought it was a shame for such grand old houses to deteriorate like that. I have my work cut out for me, but I need to channel my…thoughts elsewhere. Life was becoming too sad, and I didn’t want to wallow.” She dabbed at her eyes to make her point.

  “Are you going to live there when you finish?” Sarabess asked coolly.

  Sarabess would be the holdout. Bella didn’t know how she knew that, she just did.

  “I certainly hope so. I think Marcus will like going back to the shoe. The Lane sisters are so upset at the way the buildings are rotting away. I’ll modernize them and of course we’ll move into one of them. I’m hoping Marcus’s son Ben will want to move into the other one.”Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Sarabess’s head jerked upright. “What does that mean, modernize the houses?”

  “Why…I…mean…an updated kitchen, pretty bathrooms, things like that. Nothing will be changed on the outside. We’ll restore the gardens so they flow into the Lane sisters’ gardens. The architect I hired has promised to keep everything the way it was for the most part. Do you think that might be a problem, Sarabess?”

  “That’s for the Preservation Society to decide. Of course, we’ll all be watching to see that the contractors stick to the guidelines.”

  “Of course,” Bella said as she folded her hands in her lap. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She knew in her gut that Sarabess was going to be a holdout if a vote of any kind had to be taken.

  “Yoo-hoo! I’m here,” Justine Bleekman shouted from the foyer. She appeared a moment later in the doorway. “Hello, girls! Ah, you started without me. I forgive you this time, but I do think you could have waited since we have a guest today.” She turned and smiled at Bella. “How nice to see you. Wonderful, wonderful thing you did, Bella. The whole town is talking about you. That was so generous, so humane, so wonderful to give other people life. The town should give you a medal. Girls, girls, isn’t it time we invited Bella to join our little club and include her in the Christmas tour?”

  Bella almost choked as she looked around the dark dining room with all of Bethany’s ancestors glaring at her from their gilt frames.

  “Good heavens,” Bella managed to squeak, “I certainly don’t want a medal. I just did what was right.” Justine was the ringleader of this little group. And all along she’d thought it was Bethany.

  “Bella is going to modernize the Gunn houses in the shoe,” Sarabess said. This time her voice was downright cold, so cold, Bella felt goose bumps on her arms.

  “About time,” Justine said popping a scone into her mouth. “The Lane sisters must be ecstatic. They’re such eyesores. The shoe was always so beautiful. Now, what are we discussing today, girls?”

  “Nothing,” Bethany said. “We just invited Bella to tea to thank her for what she did in regard to the donor program. Things of that magnitude need to be recognized. There is one thing we should make a decision on. The Barkers’ veranda is sagging on the left end. It’s very jarring to look at it. We need to have a fund-raiser to get some money to have it fixed. A bake sale should do it. Can we count on you, Bella?”

  Could they count on her? Did she hear them right? “Of course, I’ll be happy to do whatever I can.”

  “I’m nominating Bella’s house for the Christmas tour,” Ethel said. “By next year her house in the shoe will be ready so she’ll have two different houses in the tour. Now, won’t that be something? We’ve all had the same house year after year. I don’t think anyone has ever had twodifferent houses. That’s probably a good thing.”

  “Well, I hate to eat and run but I have to stop by Lumosa’s to pick up some bulbs and peat moss,” Marjorie said. She stood up, walked over to Bella, patted her on the shoulder, and said, “It was nice seeing and talking to you, Bella. I’ll take care of getting the forms to you for the tour. I have to warn you, they’re extensive and must be filled out in triplicate. We don’t let just anybody on the tour. You have to be someone special to get nominated. Bye, everyone.”

  Bella was so light-headed she didn’t know if she would be steady on her feet when she stood up. She wasin. They were accepting her. She could feel it in her bones.

  One by one, the women trickled toward the front door. Sarabess looked Bella in the eye and said, “You know we have to vote on it, so don’t get your hopes up, Bella.”

  “I won’t, Sarabess. It was nice seeing you again. Good-bye.”

  It was Willie who woke her, his nose nudging her to get up. Clearly, he had to go out. Stunned that she’d actually slept, Darby struggled to her feet to lead the way down the steps. She moved quietly so as not to wake Dodo. Willie was just as quiet.

  Outside, it was still hot and humid at three-thirty in the morning. Typical Baton Rouge weather that wouldn’t change anytime soon.

  Darby sat down on the steps to wait for Willie to make his circle of the Horseshoe. He knew every bush, every blade of grass. She allowed her gaze to settle on Ducky’s house in the center of the cul-de-sac. Ducky
had turned on the porch light. A dim yellow light could be seen on the second floor. The lamp on the little table in the upstairs hallway. In the moonlight, she could see Willie meandering around the yard. She wondered if he’d buried bones on a previous visit and was now looking for them.

  The silvery quarter moon rode low in the sky, the perfect complement to the backdrop of twinkling stars. Once, a long time ago, she’d drawn a sky just like the one she was looking at now. She wondered if it was in the little desk upstairs. Her thoughts took her back in time to her childhood when she’d dreamed of one day having a house of her very own in the shoe. Maybe that’s why she created dollhouses. Each one was hers for a little while before she had to give it up. When she was little, she’d dreamed of growing up and marrying Ben. They’d live in the shoe and swing on the swing in the evenings when it got dark. They’d hold hands and listen to the tree frogs and watch the fireflies. A little girl’s dream. She wondered what Ben dreamed about.

  Russell bludgeoned his way back into her thoughts. Now he belonged to her past, the way the drawing of the moon and stars belonged there. She closed her eyes, trying to bring Russell’s face into focus. She bolted upright off the steps when it was Ben Gunn’s face that formed behind her eyelids.

  Darby shook her head to wipe away Ben’s face. She needed to do something. She couldn’t just continue to sit there watching Willie pee on every blade of grass on the shoe. On wobbly legs, Darby made her way into the kitchen, where she rifled through the cutlery drawer for a large spoon. That would do to dig up the begonias. With the earth soft and moist from all the rain, the flowers and their roots would come up easily. If she dug them up now, they would be ready to take to the cemetery to plant at first light.

  The screen door squeaked slightly as Darby let herself back outside into the humid night. Willie heard the sound of the door and bounded over to join her. She reached down to scratch him behind the ears. The retriever followed her around to the front yard, where, with the aid of the moonlight and the bright stars, she dropped to her knees and started to dig through the luscious begonia border. When she’d had enough, she walked across the yard to Diddy’s house, where she started to dig again. The flowers came out of the ground with ease. She lined them up, knowing the roots would stay wet until she could plant them on Russ’s grave. In her mind, she knew exactly how she would plant them. Two pinks to one lavender. Then the colorful Gerber daisies from Ducky’s yard would be planted around the gravestone that would have been set up today except for the rain. The caretaker had told her he planned on setting up the stone early in the morning.