Season of Sisters (24 page)

"All right. I'll wear something else. But you pick it out for me, Holly. I can't choose." Maggie slipped off her robe and began the arduous process of pulling on her pantyhose. She wiggled, tugged, hopped, stretched, and bent. Red-faced, she finally settled the waistband into place.

"If a man were here right now, he'd consider that performance foreplay," Holly said, choosing two black dresses from the pile of seven. She held them up to Grace, who pointed at the one on the right.

Maggie accepted the dress from Holly and quickly slipped it on. After frowning at her image in the mirror, she turned gracefully before her friends.

"You look stunning," Grace told her with a smile.

"Not scared? I am scared. I'm frightened to death." Turning back to the cheval mirror, she twitched at her neckline and fluffed her hair. "What am I doing? I haven't been on a date in more than a quarter century. How am I supposed to act? What do I talk about? What do I do if he tries to kiss me?"

"You do whatever feels right, honey," Grace said. "Although I will add my caution to Holly's. Remember you are in charge."

"Sugar, I'm always in charge."

It was pure bravado, but it served Maggie well. She'd just slipped into her evening shoes when the doorbell rang. Her gaze flew to the clock. "He's early."

"Not too late to change your mind," Holly said.

"I'm not changing my mind." She glanced one more time into the mirror. "Maybe my dress, but not my mind."

Holly laughed. "You look gorgeous. C'mon, Grace. Let's get into position. Was it upstairs, third door on the right, Maggie?"

"The second door. That's the best place in the house for acoustics, then the balcony will give you a good view of the street."

"Aren't you afraid he'll see us?"

"If he's looking up at the balcony instead of me, then I don't want to go out with him after all."

The doorbell rang a second time as Maggie crossed the great room.

"Have fun," Grace called from upstairs. "We'll lock up when we leave."

"Make him keep his hands to himself," Holly added.

"I cannot believe I'm actually doing this," Maggie muttered. She pasted on a smile, then opened the door.

The man at the threshold wasn't Max. He was a stranger. A drop-dead gorgeous stranger. When he smiled, Maggie almost swallowed her tongue.

"I'm Jake Kendall. I'm here about a dog?"

"George."

"Yeah. Ol' Smelly himself."

"Come in, Mr. Kendall." She offered her hand. "I'm Maggie Prescott. George is such a sweetheart. Slobbery, but a sweetheart."

Ten minutes later, George and Jake had left the building, but not before Jake made a date with Maggie to walk the sweet, smelly thing Sunday afternoon.

"Jeeze Louise," Holly called from the top of the stairs. "Watch close, Grace. You're seeing a femme fatale in the making."

Grace smiled. "Actually, that's the standard Southern belle ringing."

"Oh, hush," Maggie said with false annoyance. Inside, she was giggling like a schoolgirl. When she opened the door to Max a short time later, Maggie's smile was genuine.

She had a lovely time on her date. The symphony was excellent as always and Max's company entertaining. They talked politics and literature, college football and laundry detergent preferences. At her front door at the end of the evening, he correctly read the panic in her eyes, thanked her for a lovely time, then gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek.

She floated inside. It was by far the most enjoyable evening she'd had in months. But when she shut the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and set down her purse, the truth hit her like a fist.

Maggie was still alone.

* * *

Holly stood at Grace's kitchen sink filling a glass with tap water. The rich, full-bodied sound of Ben Hardeman's laughter drifted from the living room, nearly drowning out Grace's feminine chuckles, and Holly smiled at the sound.

She'd done a lot of that this week. Smiling. It had been a good week. Although Holly hadn't seen Justin, she'd talked with him on the phone every night. They avoided the touchy subjects like the two Ms—marriage and moving—choosing to center their conversations around his work and her students instead. The banter between them was almost as comfortable as it used to be, before the Pink Sisterhood wedding gown sale. She'd told him about being named Teacher of the Year and he'd sent her congratulatory flowers at school.

Classes this week had gone well, too. Her kids had scored high on one of the harder tests of the year. She'd had dinner with her dad one night and attended a neighborhood Crime Watch barbeque on another. Wednesday afternoon she'd accompanied Maggie to a florist where they ordered flowers for Grace's church for the renewal of vows. Plans for the big event were just about done—a good thing, in Holly's opinion, since Maggie's social life was taking up so much of her time now.

The woman had four dates this week. Four dates with four different men. Nice men, too. Not a one of them a loser. Holly didn't know how she did it. She had girlfriends in their twenties—attractive, outgoing, intelligent women—who couldn't get dates. Maggie decided to date for the first time in years and she immediately had men falling at her feet. It boggled the mind.

At least her reason for missing tonight's anniversary portrait sitting was a good one. Maggie's boys had called her this afternoon wanting to take her to dinner. Considering the tension between them of late, she'd been delighted. Holly hoped Maggie and her sons could smooth things over this evening because the rift with her boys troubled Maggie as much, if not more, than her estrangement from Mike. She'd said as much when she'd called Holly and asked if she'd fill in as photographer's helper at the Hardemans' tonight.

The portrait was something extra Maggie had arranged and she was specific about the shots she wanted: individual portraits, couple portraits, family portraits, father-sons, and mother-daughter. Holly needed to make certain the photographer covered the list, but primarily, her job was to soothe Grace's endless fretting about how much the photographs were costing Pink Sisterhood.

A noise behind her caused Holly to glance over her shoulder. The Hardemans' daughter Sally entered the kitchen. "How's it going in there?"

"Great. The photographer is wonderful. He set Mother right at ease. Not a mean feat, when it comes to having her picture taken."

"She doesn't like cameras?"

"She loves cameras, as long as she's the one behind the shutter. My mother is the snapshot queen; she has dozens and dozens of albums filled with pictures. The problem for us is that Mom's in only a few of them."

"Really?" Holly snapped her fingers. "We need to add single-use cameras to our list for guests to use to take snapshots during your parents' anniversary party. They make those cute little ones with wedding bells and ribbons on them. Your mom won't be able to hide from two hundred cameras."

Sally beamed. "What a wonderful gift for our family. That's a great idea. Mother will hate it when it happens, but she'll be so glad to have the pictures when the party is over."

Holly thought of Maggie's secret renewal-of-vows plan. She was tempted to clue Sally in on the scheme, but since she didn't have a good sense of how Grace's daughter would react she decided to keep her mouth shut. Maggie would have a fit if Grace learned about the plan and put a premature kibosh to it.

"Your mom seems to be looking forward to the party."

"The party, the planning, has been the best thing to happen to my mother in a long time. For so long now, too long, Mom and Dad's lives have revolved around treatment and little else. The Pink Sisterhood gift has been a godsend for this family."

"I'm so glad the foundation was able to convince Grace to accept it. I understand it wasn't easy."

Sally snorted. "The woman is as stubborn as they come. Hardheaded and proud as can be. The stubbornness has served her well in her cancer fight, but the pride makes it difficult to help her."

"She's told Maggie and me that it's difficult for her to ask for help."

"It drives me crazy. My brothers and I would do anything for her. We want to help her, but she won't let us. Take this anniversary party, for instance. Before Pink Sisterhood stepped in, we wanted to host the party as part of our gift to them. You wouldn't believe the restrictions she placed on us."

Actually, Holly thought she probably would believe them.

"And Dad, I don't know how he manages day in and day out. She pushes him away and he pushes himself back. I don't think she understands how important it is to him to help her."

"And maybe he doesn't understand how much she needs to stand on her own."

"I know. I know that." Sally shook her head. "It's just so hard. People like to say that when a family member gets cancer, the entire family gets cancer and in a way, that's true. But when it comes to fighting the enemy, battling the cancer, we're powerless. We're not the surgeons who cut it out or the oncologists who poison it. All we can do is drive her to the doctor and pick up her medicine and hold her hand. When she won't let us do even that much, it makes a person feel, oh, I don't know the right word. Impotent, I guess. That makes you angry and then you feel guilty. Yet, I understand and Dad realizes that it's vitally important for her to be strong and independent. We all try to keep a balance, and sometimes we succeed, others we... well... trip a bit."

Seeing familiar pain in another daughter's expression, Holly was relieved when Grace's granddaughter Belle poked her head into the kitchen. "Mom. It's time to take the individual family pictures."

"I'll be right there, honey." Sally flashed an apologetic smile toward Holly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't spout off like that. It's just that she's so happy in there tonight and it's so wonderful to see. Sometimes my emotions overflow."

"Please, don't apologize for your feelings. Women do that too much. It's one of my pet peeves. Your feelings are honest and they're yours."

Sally's smile stretched to a grin. "I see why my mother likes you so much. She told me you mentor a young girl who is losing her mother. I suspect you're excellent at it."

Embarrassed, Holly struggled for words. "I don't... I only..."

"Mom, come on," called Grace's granddaughter. "We're waiting."

"Saved by the Belle," Sally quipped with a twinkle in her eyes. She checked her reflection in the chrome surface of the toaster, then finger-waved as she left the kitchen.

Knowing Maggie would expect a report, Holly waited for a few minutes, then followed. For the next twenty minutes, she watched the Hardeman family tease and joke with each other while the photographer made his way through Maggie's list.

"Great," the photographer said. "Two more to go. We're down to pets. Who has the cats?"

"They're in Nana's room," Belle said, scooting off her mother's lap as the front doorbell rang. "I'll get them."

Sally's husband headed for the door, wrestling his billfold out of his back pocket. "I'll get supper."

When the pictures were done, Holly joined the family for pizza. As the younger families began to take their leave, she picked up her backpack and prepared to go home. Grace said, "Oh. Must you leave? I'd hoped you'd be able to stay a bit and help me with something."

Other than grading today's quiz, Holly didn't have plans for the rest of the evening. She replaced her backpack on the counter. "I'm in no rush. I expect Cassie Blankenship to call, but she has my cell number."

"How is she doing?"

Holly frowned. "It's difficult to say. Our phone conversation is a Cancer Free zone. She seldom mentions her mom. She said she'd call today after she gets home from the salon. She's trying out hairstyles for the prom. So, my friend, what can I help you with?"

"I've been working on my Life List. I want to get your opinion."

Holly's stomach sank. She wished she'd never mentioned her Life List to Maggie and Grace. For some reason, both women thought they needed Holly to check off on the items they chose to include. No matter how often she explained that the list signified her friends' own personal goals, both Grace and Maggie used her as a sounding board for their ideas. To be honest, Holly rather enjoyed listening to Maggie's outrageous ideas. So far they'd been silly things. The woman never failed to be entertaining.

Grace, on the other hand, tended to be more serious. The last Holly had heard, Grace had three items on her list: to reconcile with an old friend with whom she'd had a falling-out years ago, to do an act of charity every day, and to bake with her grandchildren at least once a week.

Each item said so much about Grace and the kind of person she was. Caring. Compassionate. Filled with love. Family-centered. What bothered Holly about Grace's list, why she resisted discussing it, was her sense that Grace was using her list to put her affairs in order.

"I've decided on my goal number four," Grace said.

Holly braced herself to hear something along the lines of
I will put name stickers on my angel collection indicating who I want each piece to go to once I'm gone.

"I want to copy you and your number twenty-one."

Surprised, Holly mentally ran through her list. "Wicked? You want to be deliciously wicked?"

"I don't want to
be
deliciously wicked," Grace chastised. "That's not what your twenty-one says. I want to
do
something deliciously wicked."

A slow smile spread across Holly's face. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'm not sure. I have an idea or two, but it's not something I've spent a lot of time thinking about in the past. I hoped you might have some suggestions."

"Hmm... should I be flattered or insulted?" Holly asked with a laugh.

"Flattered. Definitely flattered." Grace opened her pantry and removed a plastic cake carrier. "It's German chocolate. I hid it from my family. I thought a discussion like this deserved chocolate."

"Grace, I adore the way you think."

She cut the first slice just as the doorbell rang. "Ben, will you get that, please?"

Moments later, Maggie Prescott stood in the kitchen doorway. Her eyes were red and tears ran in mascara-stained streaks down her cheeks. Her bottom lip trembled as she said, "Hi, y'all. Got a tissue? Guess I should've shopped for waterproof mascara, after all."