Ain't She Sweet?

  “She’s still kind of like that,” Gigi said. “People pay attention to her.”

  “Hey, I’m standing right here, in case you’ve forgotten,” Sugar Beth said. “And nobody outside of Parrish even notices me.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Winnie said. “You’re just so used to it you don’t see it anymore.”

  Gigi got her mulish look. “I think you should say you’re sorry, Sugar Beth. And, Mom, I think you should forgive her because she’s not like that now.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Sugar Beth replied, so Winnie didn’t have to be the bad guy. “I am sorry, but there’ve been too many years of animosity.”

  Winnie’s expression held the hint of a smile. “Griffin Carey did love me more.”

  “Mom! That’s mean.”

  “Well, he did,” Winnie replied. “But I was still jealous because Sugar Beth had Diddie.”

  “You had Grandma Sabrina.”

  “Believe me, there was no comparison. Diddie was like a movie star. She was beautiful and glamorous, and she had this amazing laugh. She and Sugar Beth were more like girlfriends than mother and daughter. If Sugar Beth wasn’t with your dad or the Seawillows, she was with Diddie. Everybody knew not to schedule meetings for Saturday mornings because they always watched Josie and the Pussycats together. When they were out in public, they’d whisper secrets to each other, and if you walked by Frenchman’s Bride, you’d see the two of them sitting on the front porch, drinking sweet tea and gossiping. All Grandma Sabrina and I ever did was get on each other’s nerves.”

  “Grandma’s nicer now.”

  “Old age mellowed her. When I was growing up, she only had room in her life for one person, and that was my father.”

  Sugar Beth flinched to hear Griffin referred to that way. At the same time, she acknowledged that Winnie had the right.

  “So what are you going to do?” Gigi said. “Are you going to keep hating each other? Or do you think you could be friends, now that you’ve talked out your problems.”

  “Not likely,” Sugar Beth said. “Or at least not until somebody’s handed over somebody else’s pearls.”

  Gigi looked at her mother for an explanation.

  “I have Diddie’s pearls,” Winnie said. “They should be Sugar Beth’s, but they aren’t, and I’m not giving them back.”

  “That’s pretty mean.”

  “As mean as what happened in the locker room?”

  “No, not that mean.” Gigi returned her attention to Sugar Beth, a pint-size secretary of state trying to negotiate a treaty between warring nations. “I think Mom should keep the pearls to make up for what you did, even if they look dumb on her.”

  “They don’t look dumb on me,” Winnie said, “which is why I wear them all the time.”

  “You should be glad Mom’s keeping them. They’d look dumb on you, too.”

  “That’s not the point,” Sugar Beth said. “The point is…Oh, never mind. I know where this is leading, Gigi, and don’t waste your breath. Your mother and I will never act like sisters, no matter how hard you push. The best we can hope for is politeness.”

  “I guess. But, Sugar Beth, did you ever think…” Gigi touched her mother’s shoulder. “Me and Mom are the only two people in the world that have the same blood as you.”

  Sugar Beth got that old tight feeling in her throat and did her best to shrug it away. “Them’s the breaks, kid.”

  “Can I take Gordon to see Dad?” she said abruptly.

  “Leaving us alone together won’t work,” Sugar Beth said.

  “I just want Gordon to meet Dad.”

  “What about your French toast?”

  “I’ll take it with me.” She grabbed a piece from the plate, called to Gordon, and a few moments later, they were out the door.

  Winnie rose and headed for the coffeepot. “I knew you were jealous of me. I guess I never quite realized how jealous.”

  “You don’t have to look so happy about it.”

  “Life doesn’t hand you too many perfect moments. I’m savoring.” She smiled, transferred a piece of French toast to her plate, then regarded it critically. “This was supposed to have cinnamon on it.”

  “I got distracted humiliating myself in front of your daughter.”

  Winnie squeezed out a dab of syrup, then picked up a knife and fork. Still standing at the counter, she began to eat, but she no longer looked quite so full of herself. Finally, she said, “I’d like to stay here for a few more nights if it’s all right.”

  “You’ll have to deal with him sooner or later.”

  “Later.” She took another bite. “What’s going on with you and Colin?”

  “I’m toying with him.”

  Winnie laughed as she set down her plate. “You’re nuts about him.”

  “Says you.”

  Winnie headed for the living room and picked up her purse. “It’s going to be so much fun watching you get dumped.”

  “Yeah? We’ll just see about that.”

  Winnie snickered, and the door shut with a firm thud.

  Sugar Beth lunged for the maple syrup. “And isn’t it nice having our old animosity behind us.”

  “She was ever a wild piece,” wept Madam.

  GEORGETTE HEYER, These Old Shades

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  All that day Sugar Beth kept her eye on the comings and goings at Yesterday’s Treasures. Despite the closed sign taped to the boarded-up front door, the place was a beehive of activity. Ryan and Gigi showed up around nine-thirty. Later, the Seawillows began dropping by. Shortly before noon, a paneled truck appeared, and Ryan, who was dressed in jeans and a work shirt, stood on the sidewalk for a while, talking to the men before he led them inside. Later, Gigi slipped out, then returned with a pizza. Winnie’s family had circled its wagons. Maybe all was finally well in the Land of Galantine.

  Which meant that Winnie wouldn’t be coming back to the carriage house tonight. Not that Sugar Beth had exactly been looking forward to it. Still, there was something about their confrontation that morning she hadn’t entirely disliked.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as a thinly built woman with a square jaw approached the register. “You remember me, don’t you, Sugar Beth? Pansye Tims, Corinne’s big sister.”

  “Yes, Pansye, of course. How’ve you been?”

  “Gettin’ over a sinus infection.” She leaned closer. “Everybody in town’s talking about last night. Imagine what could have happened to Winnie if you hadn’t been there to carry her out. She’s such a special person. Parrish wouldn’t be the same without her. I just want you to know how grateful we all are.”

  Sugar Beth shifted uncomfortably. Pansye was at least the twentieth person who’d stopped in the bookstore already to thank her. Why hadn’t Winnie outed her? “As a matter of fact, Pansye, the story’s gotten a little exaggerated. I really didn’t carry Winnie out. I—”

  “Oh, stop now. You’re a heroine.”

  Jewel popped up next to the register like an evil elf. “That’s right, Sugar Beth. I even heard talk about you getting the mayor’s Good Citizen Award.”

  She glared at her employer, who knew the truth. When Sugar Beth had come in that morning, she’d told her exactly what had happened. But Jewel had merely laughed. After Pansye left, Sugar Beth confronted Jewel in the self-help aisle. “This whole thing was supposed to be a joke. I only did it to entertain myself and aggravate Winnie. She’s deliberately not telling people the truth because she knows I’m expecting her to.”

  Jewel chuckled. “I swear, Sugar Beth, hiring you was the best move I ever made, and not just for your entertainment value. You’ve brought more business into the store than I ever dreamed.”

  “Based entirely on deception.”

  “Whatever works.” Jewel got distracted by her shrunken poetry section. Her smile faded, and her forehead crumpled in outrage. “Where’s all my Langston Hughes? He’s—”

  “Dead,” Sugar Beth retorted. “I needed his floor space f
or the children’s department.”

  “Well, Nikki Giovanni’s not dead.” She poked a finger toward the shelf. “And if she walks into this store, I don’t know how I’m going to face her.”

  “I doubt Parrish, Mississippi, is at the top of Nikki’s dream travel destinations. And we don’t need to display three copies of everything she wrote.”

  “Says the white girl.”

  Jewel didn’t stop grumbling until late afternoon, when she realized Sugar Beth had sold out the new Daphne the Bunny book, along with half a dozen other titles. “All right,” she said begrudgingly. “I’ll leave you alone. But if you even think about touching Gwendolyn Brooks, you’re the one who’s gonna be dead.”

  As closing time approached, Sugar Beth realized she was still waiting for Colin to call. He had to have heard about the fire by now. Wasn’t he the slightest bit concerned? Apparently not.

  “Dinner at the Lakehouse tonight,” Jewel said. “My treat.”

  “Okay. But just so there are no awkward moments, I’m not putting out on our first date.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. This time around, I’m looking for a sister.”

  “You could at least give me a chance.”

  “Some things were not meant to be.”

  By the time they reached the Lakehouse and placed their order, their conversation had turned more serious. They spoke of books they loved, of old dreams and new insights. Sugar Beth ignored Jewel’s nosiness about Colin but told her a little of what had happened that morning with Winnie.

  When she finished, Jewel regarded her sympathetically. “You’re upset because she’s not staying with you longer.”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Exactly.”

  It was true, Sugar Beth realized later as she drove home and parked in her empty driveway. Somehow she’d hoped her encounter with Winnie might be the basis for some new kind of…whatever.

  Gordon didn’t knock her down to get outside, which meant Colin had brought him over recently. She resisted the temptation to trump up an excuse to bang on his door and pick a fight. She loved fighting with him. The freedom of it. No worries about getting slapped or thrown across a room. No fears of inducing a fatal heart attack. When they were together, she felt alive again. But that was her old pattern, wasn’t it? Only feeling alive when she could see her reflection in a man’s eyes? No more. She was smarter now, although wisdom hadn’t driven the loneliness away.

  Everything that was wrong with her life settled over her. She was tired of keeping her head up when she wanted to bury it under the covers, tired of pretending she didn’t care what other people thought, tired of the neediness that made her keep falling in love. And she only knew one way to numb the pain. By getting drunk.

  She headed for the kitchen, hoping chocolate would do the job instead.

  Ryan cursed under his breath as he saw Sugar Beth’s Volvo sitting by itself in the carriage house drive. Winnie wasn’t there. And he’d brought her white tulips. Granted, ten o’clock was a little late to deliver them, but Gigi had joined the Spanish club’s outing at Casa Pepe, and he’d ended up with car pool duty.

  He stared at the Volvo’s bumper and tried to ease the knots in his back, but they refused to budge. He’d thought maybe Winnie had forgiven him for that ugly scene at the store on Wednesday, but he’d been kidding himself. Just because she hadn’t been openly hostile when he’d helped her clean up from the fire mess at the store today didn’t mean she’d forgotten or forgiven. Every time he’d tried to get her alone, she’d dodged him, and she’d blown him off when he’d invited her back to the house.

  She’d been all smiles when she’d talked to everybody else, laughing when Gigi tried on old hats, chatting with the workmen doing the upstairs cleanup, joking with the Seawillows. She’d only smiled at him once, and his mouth had gone dry. Until today, he’d never paid much attention to Winnie’s smiles. Now he knew they started out slow, then gradually took over her whole face.

  She hadn’t thanked him for helping out today, and she hadn’t fussed over him even once. The old Winnie would have told him not to bother helping with the cleanup. Naturally, he’d have insisted, and then she’d have been all over him, stopping what she was doing to get him coffee, asking if he wanted something to eat, and generally irritating the hell out of him. But this new Winnie wasn’t nearly that sweet. Instead, she was hardheaded, confident, and so tantalizing he could think of little else but making love with her again.

  He realized today was the first time he’d spent more than a few minutes at the store. Even though he’d known how much she loved antiques, he’d secretly thought of the shop as a rich woman’s diversion. Today, however, as he’d watched her handle the objects and talk to Gigi about them, he’d realized how good she was at what she did, and he’d felt ashamed.

  He left the tulips on the seat and got out of the car. He couldn’t imagine anything stranger than asking Sugar Beth if she knew where Winnie was, but he refused to call the Seawillows. Once again, he wondered what had happened between Winnie and Sugar Beth that morning. Gigi knew, but when he’d tried to worm a few details out of her, she’d clammed up.

  He changed his mind about the tulips and retrieved them from the car. Maybe leaving them would soften her up a little. He needed to start courting his wife, and to his surprise, the idea didn’t displease him. He’d always liked challenges. He’d just never expected to find one with Winnie.

  Sugar Beth came to the door. She was bare-legged, wearing a man’s T-shirt that fell below her hips. Those endless legs, tousled blond hair, and pouty expression had Homecoming Queen Gone Wild written all over them. She was still the most provocative woman he’d ever known, but all he felt now was regret for the fourteen years he’d wasted thinking about her when he should have been paying attention to his wife.

  She grabbed the tulips from him. “Pour moi? How sweet.”

  “They’re for Winnie, and don’t even think about telling her I brought them for you. I mean it, Sugar Beth. None of your fun and games. You’ve done enough damage to my marriage as it is.”

  “Uh-oh, somebody’s transferring blame again.”

  She was right.

  She curled her fingers around his wrist and pulled him into the room, looking at him as if he were a big ol’ box of candy. “You, my man, are exactly what the doctor ordered. I need a distraction.”

  “Find it somewhere else.” He turned to leave, but she stepped around him and pressed her back to the door, blocking the way. “Please, Ryan.” She didn’t say the words so much as purr them, and the hair on his arms stood up. “I’ve been doing battle with the demon rum. Just stay for a little while.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Sober as a judge…if you don’t count a serious sugar high. But I’m not feeling too confident about staying that way.”

  “Look, Sugar Beth, all I want to do is see Winnie.”

  “And all I want to do is forget how much I need a drink.”

  “Have one.”

  “Unfortunately, one’s never enough, and before I know it, I’m dancing on the bar in my underwear.”

  “There’s no bar here, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  She slipped her arms around his waist. He jerked back, but she held on tight. “Then how ’bout I just show you my underwear without the drinking?”

  Her scent drifted up to his nostrils as she pressed against him. He caught her shoulders, and his voice wasn’t quite steady. “What are you trying to do?”

  “I just need a little comfort, that’s all. It’s been a shitty month. A shitty year.” She rested her cheek against his chest, slid her bare foot along the inner slope of his calf. “Remember how it used to be, Ryan? The two of us. Remember when we couldn’t get enough of each other.”

  His chest felt tight. “A long time ago.”

  She gazed up at him through the same silver-blue eyes as his wife’s. “Don’t push me away. Please.”

  He’d dreamed of this moment—Sugar B
eth throwing herself at him—begging him to take her back.

  “I’m not going to tell if you won’t,” she whispered. “Just for tonight. What’s the harm?”

  He was hard. How could he be anything else with the way she was rubbing against him? Hard. But not tempted. Not even for a moment.

  He gripped her shoulders and firmly set her aside. “I love my wife. That’s the harm.”

  “Well, aren’t you the noble one?”

  “Nobility doesn’t have anything to do with it. She means everything to me. I’d never betray her.”

  “Then get the hell out of here.”

  He felt a flash of pity for her, an urge to tell her she was too old for games like this. But he wasn’t the person to offer advice, and with a brief nod, he turned away and let himself out.

  The March wind rustled his hair as he made his way down the front steps. When he got to the bottom, he drew a deep breath, tilted back his head, and gazed through the tree branches toward the sky. Maybe it was his imagination, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such bright, perfect stars. He smiled.

  Inside the carriage house, Sugar Beth dove for the half-empty bag of Oreos she’d left on the couch. As she munched, Gordon trotted downstairs, followed by Colin and then Winnie.

  “Was that entirely necessary?” Colin inquired, nostrils flared with distaste.

  “Ask her.” Sugar Beth jerked her head toward Winnie and stuffed another Oreo in her mouth.

  Winnie gazed at the door, her expression bemused. “You upset him.”

  “Not to mention what you did to me.” Colin thrust a pointed finger in her face. “You’re a lunatic. Someone should lock you up. Bloody hell, I’ll lock you up.”

  Sugar Beth ignored him so she could turn her wrath on Winnie. “This is it!” she exclaimed through the Oreos. “Tonight’s mortifying little escapade stamps Paid on whatever debt I still owed you. That man loves you. He doesn’t give a damn about me, and as far as I’m concerned, we’re even. If you don’t see it that way, I don’t really care. Got it?”