“I can’t help it. I don’t remember it being this low cut. I’d fall out of it if I had anything to fall out of it with,” Starley grumbled.
Francesca snickered. “Starley the dress is fine, you look beautiful. But if you want to wear one of Juliette’s padded bras, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
Juliette’s mouth dropped open. “I do not wear padded bras.”
“No, thank you,” Starley interrupted. “Now I know another reason I don’t go to dances.”
“Why?” Francesca asked.
“Because the dress makes me feel like I’m half naked, and the shoes pinch my feet,” Starley said, dropping the high heels to the kitchen floor with a thud.
“You look great,” Juliette said, tucking a chunk of Starley’s blonde hair behind her ear. “Amazing, really.”
Starley bit her lip and blinked. “You’re just saying that because I’m your sister, and you’re obligated to say I look nice even if I look hideous.”
“No, you’re talking to Juliette, remember. If she thought you looked atrocious, she’d say so. You forget, Juliette does not sugar coat things,” Francesca said.
“She’s right,” Juliette said. She pointed to the shoes. “You should probably put those on and wear them around for a few minutes. Try to break them in a little bit.”
“What time is Beau picking you up?” Francesca asked.
“He said six. We’re going to get something to eat before the dance,” Starley said.
“How thoughtful,” Francesca said.
“Not really,” Starley mumbled.
“Why not?” Juliette asked.
“Because if I eat anything I’ll probably throw up all over him. Won’t that be romantic? My first dance and I barf all over my date,” Starley said.
“Stop it! You aren’t going to barf,” Francesca said. “Try to relax, Starley. You’re going to have fun. This will be a night to remember.”
“I hope you mean that in a good way and not an ‘oh my god that was the worst night of my life’ way,” Starley said.
“Is Rue going to be there?” Juliette asked, trying to take Starley’s mind off her distress.
Starley nodded. She walked over to Poe’s cage and fed him a couple of peanuts. “What do you think, Poe?”
“Crow’s can’t talk,” Poe said.
Starley giggled and started to walk away. Poe let out a piercing screech followed by a wolf-whistle loud enough to rival any construction worker. Starley glanced over her shoulder at the bird and said, “Dirty bird.”
Poe chuckled as though he knew exactly what their conversation was about. She swore that crow was smarter than some humans.
Starley squeezed her feet into her shoes and practiced walking up and down the hall.
“No, not like that. You look like a duck trying to waddle across the road before it gets run over,” Juliette remarked. She glided down the hall and back. “That’s how you do it. Now you try.”
Starley walked toward the other end of the house, turned smoothly, took three steps and tripped. “It’s hopeless. I’m about as graceful as an ice skating pigeon. Don’t you have a pair of flats I can borrow?”
“Nothing that will match your dress,” Juliette said.
“If Beau’s on time, then he should be here in about fifteen minutes,” Francesca pointed out.
Starley slipped out of the shoes and went back to her room. She had wrapped the magical cookies in tissue paper and stuck them in the clutch Juliette had let her borrow. She grabbed the cape that Francesca said she could wear and took one final look in the full-length mirror. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to calm herself.
“Be thankful you’re just a dog, Larry. You don’t have to worry if your dress doesn’t fit right or if your shoes feel like they’re going to amputate your big toe,” Starley mumbled.
Larry cocked his head and let out one soft whine, letting her know he understood everything she’d said and agreed whole-heartedly.
Starley made her way back out to the kitchen, wedged her feet into her shoes, and went toward the living room. As soon as she cleared the doorway she got blinded by a series of flashes going off.
“Thanks a lot. Now I’ve got spots before my eyes,” Starley said. “A little warning might have been nice.”
“Candid shots are always much better than posed ones,” Francesca said.
“I’m glad you think so,” Starley said.
She was still trying to recover her vision when the front doorbell rang. Starley felt faint and thought she might pass out. Francesca answered the door and invited Beau to come inside.
Francesca insisted on taking some more photos of them together. Before they left, Starley wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw both sisters dab the corner of their eyes. Starley swallowed the lump in her throat and kissed them each on the cheek.
THE FLAME AND THE TEA LEAVES
Francesca and Juliette peeked through the drapes in the living room, watching as Starley and Beau walked to Beau’s car.
“He’s a gentleman, at least,” Juliette remarked when Beau opened the passenger side door of his red Toyota for Starley to climb inside.
“Yes,” Francesca said with a heavy sigh.
Juliette gave Francesca a sideways glance. “What’s wrong?”
Francesca sighed again and let the curtain fall back into place. “I’ve got a bad feeling that I just can’t shake.”
Juliette nodded. She knew better than to question Francesca’s gut feelings. “Do you think it’s about Starley and Beau?”
Francesca sat on the sofa and folded her legs beneath her. “I hope not. You know how these feelings are, they’re never completely straightforward. It might have something to do with them. Or it might be something totally unrelated.”
“We could read the candle flames,” Juliette suggested. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done that.”
“I don’t know, it’s probably just my nerves working overtime since this is Starley’s first date,” Francesca said.
“I’ll get the candle,” Juliette said.
She went to the kitchen and stood on a stool to reach the top shelf of the cupboard above the refrigerator. The candle was white for purity and truth. She took out the essential oils and some sage to dress the candle. She returned to the living room to find Francesca wringing her hands and pacing the floor. Larry watched her as though she were a ball in a tennis match.
“I’ll put on some tea,” Francesca offered.
When the tea had finished brewing, Francesca carried two cups out to the living room. Juliette lit the candle and turned off all the lights. They sat cross-legged on the floor with Francesca on one side of the coffee table and Juliette on the other. blew on her tea until it had cooled enough to drink.
Juliette sipped her tea. She hated tea, but Francesca said that it sat the whole gypsy-fortune-teller mood. Francesca also enjoyed reading tea leaves for fun. They never read the leaves for serious matters; usually it was all done in the spirit of fun.
The flame bounced and danced, which was a good sign as long as it candle stayed lit.
“Do you want to read the wax, or are we just going to meditate on the flame tonight?” asked Juliette.
“Meditation feels right to me,” Francesca said quietly. “What about you?”
Juliette nodded. “Me too.”
They sat in complete silence for several minutes, eyes glued to the flame as it changed colors and started to form different shapes. Without warning, the candle suddenly sputtered, the flame snapped and popped and the room went dark.
Francesca sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh shit. That can’t be good. Did you see anything before it went out?”
“Nothing good,” Juliette admitted quietly. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Before this night is over, the phone will ring with news. I can’t tell if the news is good or bad, but assuming the worst ⦠it won’t be pleasant.”
“Hurry up finish your tea,” Francesca said, no
dding toward Juliette’s cup. “Let me see if the leaves give any more information.”
Juliette downed the last of the now tepid liquid, grimacing at the bitter taste. “All gone.”
Francesca re-lit the candle and sat up on her knees. She bent over the cup and tossed her ebony hair behind her back. “Look here, does that look like a car to you?” She slid the cup across the coffee table.
Juliette tucked her hair behind her ears and squinted for a better look. “It looks more like one of those cube vans. A moving van, maybe.”
“Crap on a cracker,” Francesca said.
“I don’t want to move again, Frank,” Juliette whispered.
Francesca’s lips flattened into a thin white line. “Me either.”
Juliette stood and picked up both cups. “I think we’re letting our imaginations get the better of us.”
“I hope you’re right,” Francesca said, rubbing the chill from her arms.
She blew out the candle and carried it into the kitchen.
“I think I’m going to go upstairs and read for awhile,” said Juliette.
“Maybe I’ll finish writing that love story I started when we first moved to town,” Francesca said.
“What are you writing about this time?” Juliette asked.
“I keep trying to write a modern day Romeo and Juliette love story, but no matter how many times I sit down to finish it, it still ends up tragically,” Francesca said. “Hope it’s not an omen.”
“Sometimes I hate my name,” Juliette muttered as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom.
ALL CHOKED UP
Starley felt like all her wishes had finally come true when she walked into the decorated all-purpose room with Beau. Everything had been perfect. He’d shown up at the house right on time. Her sisters hadn’t embarrassed her too badly with the crazy picture taking, and Beau had been a complete gentleman. She pinched herself a few times to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
“There’s Rue and Andrew,” Beau said, nodding in their direction. “Do you want to sit with them?”
“Okay, sure,” Starley said.
Beau took her hand and led her across the dance floor to where Andrew and Rue sat.
“Did we miss anything?” Beau shouted over the music.
“No. They’re getting ready to crown this year’s homecoming king and queen in a few minutes,” Rue said.
“Like nobody knows who’s going to win,” Andrew said with a snicker.
Rue stood and grabbed Starley’s hand. “Come with me to the bathroom.”
Starley glanced at Beau apologetically. He smiled and nodded as Rue tugged Starley toward the girl’s restroom.
“Couldn’t you manage this by yourself?” Starley asked, folding her arms in front of her chest. “The less moving around I have to do tonight the better.”
“Why?” Rue asked.
“My feet are already killing me,” Starley said. She pulled up the front of her dress. “And I feel like a hooker in this dress with all the skin that’s showing.”
Rue busted out laughing. “You look fine. At least it covers your ass.”
Starley giggled. “True.”
The line was long, and when they finally got back, Beau wasn’t sitting with Andrew. Starley scanned the room for her date but didn’t see him.
“Where’s Beau?” Starley asked.
“Beatrice asked him to dance,” Andrew said. Rue elbowed Andrew and gave him a dirty look. “Ouch! What did you do that for?”
“Never mind,” Rue said. She leaned close to Starley and whispered in her ear, “Boys can be so dense sometimes. Did you bring the cookies?”
“Yes,” Starley said, tapping her clutch. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea unless you want to sit here all night while your date dances with someone else,” Rue said.
Starley stared into the crowded dance floor. She felt the skin prickle at the back of her neck. “You’re right. If he ever comes back, I’ll do it.”
“The band has to take a break sooner or later,” Rue said.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Starley said.
Just as Rue had predicted, the band decided to take a fifteen-minute break, and Beau returned. At least he had the good sense not to invite Beatrice to sit with them.
The silence between the couples was palpable. Finally, Rue broke the ice. “So, Beau, did you try Starley’s cookies?”
Beau’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? Getting kind of personal, aren’t you?”
Andrew laughed. “Gotcha there, Rue.”
“Not those cookies,” Rue said. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Starley decided to interrupt before the conversation got completely out of hand. “Rue and I baked cookies last night.”
“Oh those cookies,” Andrew said.
Starley reached into her purse and took out the cookies. She passed one to Beau. “Try one.”
Beau took one and sniffed it. “What’s in them?”
“Some crack, a whole bunch of weed, and some other unknown ingredients,” Rue said. “What the hell, Byrd? They’re just regular cookies.”
Andrew reached between Starley and Beau and snatched the cookie right out of his hand. “Dude if you’re not going to eat it, I will.” He shoved the whole thing into his mouth before anyone could recover from the shock of him nabbing it away.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to eat it, you jackass,” Beau said shaking his head. He looked at Starley, “Do you have any more?”
“Sure,” Starley said. She pulled out the rest of the tissue paper wrapped cookies and passed them to Beau. “Here, hold on to these. This is the last of them.”
Beau stuck one of the cookies between his teeth and stuffed the remainder into his pocket. He bit off a piece and chewed slowly. “Damn, these are good!”
By the time the band started to play again, Beau had eaten three of the special cookies. Maybe it was Starley’s imagination, but she thought he had moved a little closer to her. When the band started playing a slow song, he stood and offered his hand.
“Let’s dance,” he said with a heart-breaking smile.
As they swayed to the music around the dance floor, Beau started to complain. “It’s hotter than the hubs of hell in here, don’t you think?”
Starley blinked up at him. It worried her how red his face was. “It’s a little warm, I guess. Maybe we should go outside and get some fresh air,” she suggested.
Beau stepped back from Starley and tugged at the shirt collar around his neck. He had turned purple, and his breathing was labored.
“I feel like shit,” were the last words Beau had uttered before he collapsed to the floor with a sickening thud.
PLANES TRAINS AND AMBULANCES
Starley slapped both of her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream. She felt like she was caught in a time warp, everything stood still. The band stopped playing, and people stopped dancing. The chaperones rushed over, shouting for everyone to stand back, give him some air.
Rue ran to Starley and pulled her into a hug. “What the hell happened?”
All Starley could do was shake her head as tears streamed down her face. “I don’t know. One minute everything was great. The next thing I know⦔ she trailed off.
“Had to be the cookies,” Andrew said quietly.
Starley jerked as though she’d been slapped. “Oh, God. The cookies.”
Rue led Starley over to their table. “Andrew, would you get Starley some water?”
Andrew nodded and disappeared.
Starley grabbed Rue’s arm hard enough to break the skin with her fingernails. “What am I going to do? He still has some of those cookies in his jacket pocket.”
Rue chewed on her bottom lip and watched the crowd part to make room for the paramedics who had just arrived. “There has to be a logical explanation. Andrew ate at least twice as many cookies as Beau did, and nothing happened to him.”
When And
rew returned with the water, his face was ashen. “Beau’s not breathing, his heart stopped. They’re trying to revive him right now.”
Starley felt her stomach lurch into her throat, and she felt like she would throw up. “This is all my fault.”
Rue and Andrew exchanged glances.
“No, none of this is your fault. Even if there was something in the cookies, you had no idea this would happen. I mean, it’s not like you purposely set out to poison him or anything,” Andrew said.
Rue gave Andrew a will you shut up glare. “Come on, we’ll give you a ride.”
Starley nodded numbly and stood to follow them out.
“Do you think you should go to the hospital?” Rue asked.
“Yeah, I probably ought to,” Starley said. “In cases they need to ask me anything.”
“Are you going to tell the police about the cookies?” Andrew asked.
“Police? What police?” Rue asked. “Why would the police be at the hospital?”
“If he dies, then there’s bound to be an investigation,” Andrew said.
Rue stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “You watch too many crime shows. He is not going to die. So stop implying that Starley should call her lawyer already.”
“She might want to once Beau’s dad finds out she fed him the cookies that poisoned him,” Andrew reasoned.
“Andrew?” Rue said.
“Yeah?” Andrew answered.
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear one more word from that mouth of yours,” Rue said.
They were almost to the exit when Starley heard a woman’s voice shouting her name. She stopped and turned to see who it was and didn’t recognize her.
Rue mumbled under her breath, “Oh, shit. Sandy Davidson.”
Starley’s eyebrows pinched together with confusion. “Who?”
“Pastor Byrd’s private secretary,” Rue said.
“What’s she doing here?” Andrew asked.
Rue was beginning to question her attraction to Andrew. Every time he opened his mouth, something stupid came out. “She’s a chaperone.”
Starley wanted to bolt through the front doors and keep on running until she was safely behind the closed doors of her house. Instead, she held her ground on shaky legs and waited for Sandy to say whatever it was she’d stopped Starley to say.
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