Shirley gasped. “That little minx! She said she wasn’t going to get dressed up.” She deposited her bags on the counter and started down the hall hollering. “LuAnne, you’d better have something in there for me to wear!”
Prudence laughed as she started to take wine and champagne bottles out of the bags. “I should’ve known LuAnne was up to something.”
“I miss Janice. She kept them sane.”
“Semi-sane.”
“Okay, yes. Semi-sane.” Annabelle uncorked a bottle of red, poured herself a glass then sat on the mid-century modern leather sofa in the living room. It was a large open concept space on the top floor of the newest condo built just off the downtown area. With clean lines and next to no clutter, her perfectly lived-in space reflected Annabelle perfectly. She sat back and propped her sock clad feet on her coffee table. “It’s almost seven, and Mom has been here all day. I deserve this,” she said then took a long sip.
“I’m not going to argue with that.” Prudence stopped, her head tilted, trying to catch the argument coming from the bedroom, then deciding it was probably best she didn’t. “In fact, I’m going to join you.”
“What should we drink to this time?” Annabelle wondered as Prudence sat next to her. “I have a bottle of tequila, how about we take a shot every time a mom asks about when we’re going to give them grandbabies?”
“Not marriage?”
Annabelle shot Prudence a sly look over the rim of her glass. “Considering we’re here because Greyson is going to be on TV, marriage will be the only thing on their minds. Specifically yours and Grey’s,” she clarified, as if that subject didn’t come up almost every time Greyson and Prudence’s names were brought up together.
Prudence grimaced. “You’re right. We’ll both be blitzed before the show even starts.”
Annabelle’s slyness hadn’t abated. “Is there anything you want to talk about while they’re still occupied?” she asked as a crash sounded from her bedroom and a muffled “we’re all right” drifted from the hall.
She fought a flush, reaching for a coffee table book on the elements of style to give her a moment to recover. Every time. Every damn time Greyson was brought up lately she got flushed and flustered. It was embarrassing, really. She was a grown woman who didn’t get crushes, let alone a crush on a man she’d known her whole life. She’d put those feelings behind her long ago but that didn’t stop her traitorous body from tingling to the tips of her toes when he was mentioned, a hyper-awareness that caught her off guard, sometimes leaving her short of breath.
“What would there be to talk about?” she questioned nonchalantly while flipping pages.
Annabelle took a deep breath to speak but was interrupted by the sound of clomping.
“Three-inch heels aren’t that much taller than two-inch heels, Shirley.” LuAnne glided effortlessly in her five-inch stilettos. “It’s one teensy inch.” LuAnne was a barely five-foot-tall, tiny spitfire of a woman. Always elegantly dressed and impeccably made up, much like her daughter, she oozed sophistication and class. Now, in a black gown fit for the Passel Awards, she was the image of a movie star. Shirley was not.
“The dress is too small, and these heels are too high. I’m going to change back into my clothes.”
“It’s not too small, you look great! At least wait so we can take some pictures.” LuAnne struck a pose. “Send some to Greyson, dear,” she said, addressing no one in particular. “Tell him Meryl Streep can eat her heart out.”
Annabelle rolled her eyes and said before she stood, “We’ll talk about this later, Pru.” Then aloud, to the room, “Who wants a drink?”
There was a brief knock on the door before Devlin breezed through. “I’m not late, am I?” She stopped dead at the sight of LuAnne and Shirley. “Wait, what are these celebrities doing in Amber Falls. You know the red carpet’s in L.A., right?” Devlin got along famously with The Moms. She’d only met Janice briefly when she moved to town but had spent a good amount of time with the remaining two moms and she charmed them every time.
LuAnne floated over to Devlin giving her a double-cheek kiss while Shirley smoothed her dress. “You think so?” Shirley asked. “It’s not too tight?”
Devlin walked over and adjusted the straps. “Not at all. It’s perfect.”
“Well, I suppose I can wear it for a bit longer.”
“Of course you can, dear,” LuAnne said, grabbing Shirley by the hand after taking Devlin’s grocery bag and leading her into the kitchen. “Let’s get these apps on, the red carpet is about to start.”
Annabelle, who was still standing with the wine at the kitchen island, pointed to the bottles. “White or red?”
“Woah, are we expecting more people?” Devlin wondered.
“Just us,” Prudence called from the couch. “Apparently, we’re going to need it all and anarchy will break out if we run out after the store closes. It’s not like we don’t know a bar owner.”
“One never knows where the night will take us after the show is over,” Shirley said, sliding a pan into the oven.
“Wherever the night takes you after the show itwillbe in an Uber, Mother. Some people still work for a living.”
LuAnne and Shirley exchanged glances, their eyes getting dewy as they clasped hands. Prudence swore they practiced this. “Raising our children was the best job we could have ever had,” LuAnne said, despite the fact that they both had worked while raising said children.
Devlin covered her hand with her mouth to muffle a laugh while Shirley got on the guilt train where LuAnne left off. “Wearegetting up there in years. You giving us grandkids would be the biggest blessing we could have at our ages.”
