Laura was completely drained by the time she got home. She’d never been more grateful to have an entire evening stretching out ahead of her with absolutely nothing to do. She’d finished grading tests before leaving school. Her lesson plan for tomorrow was in place. She could soak in a bubble bath, have a glass of wine and a slice of leftover pizza, then crawl into bed with a book.
However, before she’d even glanced through the day’s mail, there was a knock on her door. She opened it to find Annie, Raylene and Sarah on her doorstep, laden with bags that seemed to be overflowing with chips and who knew what else.
“Did we have plans?” she asked, knowing perfectly well that they didn’t.
“Nope, but I heard from my mom that you’d had a really lousy day,” Annie said, “so we’re here to offer moral support. It’s what Sweet Magnolias do. Mom, Maddie, Jeanette and Helen couldn’t make it, but we’ve pretty well nailed the routine by now. Raylene can almost make Helen’s lethal margaritas.”
“What do you mean, almost?” Raylene said indignantly. “The last ones I made knocked you on your butt.”
Annie grinned. “But I’m a lightweight. And I’m not sure knocking us on our butts is supposed to be the purpose. I think they’re just intended to create a relaxing buzz.”
“Well, I can do that, too,” Raylene said, then turned to Laura. “Do you have a blender?”
“Sure.”
“Plenty of ice?”
“Yes, but no lime juice or tequila,” Laura said.
“Oh, we have the necessary ingredients,” Raylene said. “We never go anywhere without being prepared.”
“Then let’s get this party started,” Annie said exuberantly.
Sarah grinned at Laura. “You look a little shell-shocked. Maybe you should just have a seat in the living room and let us do the work. We’ll find whatever we need.”
Though she didn’t doubt for a second that they could easily handle the preparations, Laura couldn’t seem to stop herself from following along as they pulled together what looked like an entire meal, plus margaritas, in less than fifteen minutes.
“I cheated,” Annie admitted. “Mom made the guacamole. It takes her maybe two minutes. It would take me forever, and it wouldn’t be half as good.”
“I just bought stuff,” Sarah confessed. “Any actual cooking was done by Raylene, so it’s guaranteed to be edible. She might not be a chef, and I would never say this in front of Dana Sue, but I swear Raylene’s every bit as good as she is.”
“Believe me, Mom already knows that,” Annie said. “I caught her asking Raylene for a recipe the other day.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Raylene nodded. “She did,” she confirmed, her expression smug. “I’m not allowed to tell which one, because she intends to put it on the menu at Sullivan’s. I gave her permission to take total credit for it.”
“How is that fair?” Annie protested.
Raylene shrugged. “I’ll know. That’s what counts. I think it’s amazing that your mom, the most celebrated chef in this region, wanted my recipe.”
Laura allowed the chatter to surround her, feeling herself relax without even the first tiny sip of a margarita. It was enough that these three women had heard something about her lousy day and shown up here to bolster her spirits.
Raylene poured the margaritas into the glasses they’d also brought along, handed them around, then held hers up. “To margarita nights and friends,” she toasted.
Laura joined in, took a sip of the drink and nearly choked. “It’s a little strong, don’t you think?”
“I used Helen’s recipe and dialed it back a notch,” Raylene argued.
Annie grinned. “Then we have a new lightweight!” she said triumphantly. “I am so glad it’s no longer just me.”
“Okay, everybody, get some food, then let’s have a seat before we fall down,” Sarah said, and turned to Laura. “Then you can fill us in on what happened at school today.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Laura protested.
“It’s okay,” Annie said. “I think I already know most of the details. I’ll talk. Laura, you can correct me if I get it wrong. That way you won’t be telling tales out of school, so to speak.”
Astounded that Annie thought she already knew the details, but not seriously doubting her word, Laura merely nodded.
Once they were all in the living room and had made a serious dent in the burritos, black beans and rice that Raylene had made, along with a lot of chips, salsa and very spicy guacamole, Annie reported what her mother had told her about the incident at school.
To Laura’s surprise, none of the women seemed especially surprised to hear that Annabelle Litchfield might be bullying another girl.
“It’s that mother of hers,” Sarah said knowingly. “Mariah’s something else. You know she put the moves on Travis, right?”
Even Raylene and Annie looked startled. “Did you ever tell us that?” Annie said. “When?”
“Fourth of July, after he went on the air and praised Annabelle’s rendition of the national anthem during the holiday celebration on the town green. I walked back into the studio, and there she was gushing and practically throwing herself at him.”
“What did Travis do?” Raylene asked.
“Not enough, in my opinion. He just thanked her for stopping by. I wanted to rip her hair out. Took me a while to accept that he was being polite and that my reaction might be a little over the top, to say nothing of very bad PR for the station.”
“You didn’t think Travis was interested, did you?” Annie asked with a frown. “That might have been early on, but everybody knew you were the only woman in town he had eyes for.”
Sarah nodded. “I was still having a little trouble believing that back then.” She grinned. “Not so much now.”
“Well, I should hope not,” Laura said. “I still have to fan myself when I hear the two of you on the radio. That man seriously has the hots for you.”
Sarah’s smile spread. “He does, doesn’t he? How amazing is that? And he’s my husband!”
Annie turned her attention to Laura. “Speaking of men, Mom also gave me a full report on your dinner with J.C. at Sullivan’s.”
“Do tell,” Raylene said with interest.
Laura blushed furiously. “Come on, you guys. It was just dinner.”
“But you do like him, right?” Sarah pressed. “I mean, what woman wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous. He’s successful. And until now he’d been determinedly unattainable. How’d you pull off the coup, Laura?”
“By being irresistible, obviously,” Annie said, grinning at Laura. “Give the woman some credit. She’s as much of a catch as he is.”
“Well, that goes without saying,” Raylene said. “In fact, I’d say Laura’s the bigger prize. J.C. has stayed in practice with Bill Townsend. That’s not much of a recommendation.”
“Hold on,” Annie protested. “Even Maddie doesn’t hold that against him. She takes the kids to J.C. and recommended him to me when I refused to take mine to Bill.”
Sarah nodded. “Remember, it was Maddie who pressed Bill to hire him in the first place before her marriage to Bill blew up. She even interviewed J.C. herself and thought he was a good fit for Serenity.”
“I still say that affiliation makes him suspect,” Raylene said stubbornly. “And if Maddie were being a hundred percent truthful, she’d tell you that, too. I’ll bet the only reason she takes the kids to J.C. is because she won’t go near her ex-husband, and the only other pediatricians are miles away. No mom wants a doctor for her kids who isn’t readily accessible.”
Laura listened to them with amusement. “So, does J.C. get a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down?” she asked in jest. “Not that you all have a say. I’m just curious.”
“Thumbs-up,” Annie said at once.
“I agree,” Sarah replied.
“And I’m on the fence,” Raylene said. “If Maddie, Dana Sue and Helen were here, I imagine there’d be more thumbs-down votes.”
“Helen’s jaded,” Annie said. “It’s all those divorces she’s handled. She never forgives any man who’s hurt one of her friends the way Bill hurt Maddie. She’d dislike J.C. on the principle of guilt by association. She’s still a little cautious around my dad, though since he and Mom reconciled, Helen’s tried to forget that she basically wiped the floor with him in the divorce. Dad’s made it easier, because he hasn’t held a grudge. In fact, one of his favorite sports is getting under Helen’s skin.”
Laura sat back. “I just love the dynamics in this town.”
“How about margarita nights?” Annie asked hopefully. “Are you game for the next full-fledged one?”
“Count me in,” Laura said. The margaritas might not matter one way or the other, but the friendship these women had demonstrated by showing up here tonight was priceless.
* * *
J.C. had been calling Laura for hours but had yet to reach her. His conversation with Cal had worried him. He had a hunch she’d taken today’s incident at school to heart. Sure, she’d handled it with quiet strength, but the situation was far from resolved. She was bound to be worrying herself sick over Misty. He was feeling pretty stirred up about the latest twist in the situation himself.
When he couldn’t stand it another minute, he got into his car and drove over to Laura’s apartment. He arrived around ten, just in time to see Annie Townsend, Sarah McDonald and Raylene Rollins emerge from the building. They looked a little wobbly to him, too wobbly to be behind the wheel of a car.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said.
“It’s J.C.,” Annie said exuberantly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on Laura. How about you?”
“We had a margarita night at her place,” Sarah said.
He frowned. “A margarita night? What exactly is that?”
“Something Sweet Magnolias throw whenever someone needs support after a tough day,” Annie explained, seeming to choose her words carefully.
“So a fair amount of tequila has been consumed this evening,” he concluded, fighting a grin.
“A lot,” Sarah said, her head bobbing like one of those ridiculous dolls.
“I think I’ve gotten the picture,” he said. “How about I give you all a lift home? Seems to me it would be a shame if the wife of the chief of police got picked up for DUI.” He looked pointedly at Raylene when he said it.
“Not driving,” she said. “She is.” She pointed to Annie, who frowned. “Or is it Sarah? Don’t we have a designated driver?”
J.C. shook his head. “Given the universal state of wobbliness I’m seeing here, my guess is no. Come on. I’ll take you.”
The three women piled into his car without protest. They even managed to direct him to their respective homes. He dropped Raylene off last.
“I take back what I said earlier,” she said as she exited the car.
“What did you say earlier?”
“That I was on the fence about whether you were a prince or a jerk, or something like that. Turns out you’re a gentleman.” Her head bobbed approvingly. “Good for you.”
He smiled at the vote of confidence. “Thank you.”
“Doesn’t really matter what I think,” she said. “I’m pretty sure Laura thinks you’re a prince. Hurt her, though, and you’re dead meat.”
“So I’ve heard,” he said. “Good night, Raylene.”
He waited until she was safely inside, then drove back to Laura’s, uncertain what he might find when he got there. To his amazement, though her eyes were a little bright, she didn’t look as if however many margaritas she’d consumed had fazed her.
“You look none the worse for your little party,” he commented when she let him in.
“How’d you know about that?”
“I ran into the gals outside and volunteered to take them home. They had no business getting behind the wheel of a car.”
“That was so sweet of you,” she said.
“Oh, I’m a prince, all right,” he said. “At least that’s what Raylene claimed the vote had been earlier in the evening.”
A blush climbed up Laura’s neck and flooded her cheeks. “She told you that?”
“Alcohol tends to loosen tongues,” he reminded her. “By the way, she changed her vote. I thought I should tell you that, in case it makes a difference to you.”
“Really?”
“She says I’m a real gentleman, after all.”
“Wow! Impressive. She was a holdout earlier.”
He stepped closer, reaching out to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. His touch lingered on her flushed cheek. “Did her opinion matter?”
She held his gaze and shook her head. “Not to me.”
“I’m thinking I might not want to be a gentleman much longer,” he admitted. “What would you think about that?”
She swallowed hard, but she didn’t look away. “I’m thinking there might be times when being a gentleman is highly overrated.”
He smiled. “Good to know.”
“Were you thinking of making such a dramatic change tonight?” she inquired, a breathless note in her voice.
“I was, but the margarita thing has me thinking my timing is really off. I want you to make this decision with a clear head.”
She regarded him with disappointment. “Did you really come over here tonight to seduce me?”
“Actually I came because I heard about what happened at school. I tried to call, but never got an answer.”
“I let voice mail pick up since I had company,” she said.
“Well, it worried me, so I came to check on you.”
“Thank you. That was sweet.”
He smiled. “Quite a night for me, anyway. First Raylene called me a gentleman and now you think I’m sweet.”
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m sure you have lots and lots of flaws. I just can’t think of any at the moment.”
“I think I’ll concentrate on the fact that you haven’t ruled out letting me seduce you one of these days.”
“No, I definitely haven’t ruled that out.”
“Another time, then,” he said, bending down to touch his lips to hers. He could taste the hint of lime juice, tequila and salt that lingered on her lips, though the kiss would have been intoxicating enough without that.
He’d been right, he thought, as he reluctantly let her go. Now that he’d kissed her, even with just a brush of his lips across hers, he was lost. Oddly enough, it didn’t terrify him half as badly as he’d expected it to.
“Good night, Laura. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
As he left, he cast one last glance over his shoulder and saw her with her fingers to her lips, her expression vaguely dazed. Good, he thought. The effect had been mutual.
* * *
Laura was surprised when she received a call the morning after margarita night from Paula Vreeland, asking if they could meet for afternoon tea on the patio of The Corner Spa. Paula was a legend in town. An internationally renowned artist, her original works were priced way beyond Laura’s budget, but she had managed to buy one print, which hung in a place of prominence on the wall of Laura’s little apartment.
Though she thought the spa was an odd choice for a meeting, it was no more odd than the request itself. She had to admit curiosity had gotten the better of her. She arrived fifteen minutes early and found Mrs. Vreeland already there, chatting with her daughter, Maddie.
“Laura, nice to see you,” Maddie said. “Mother told me you were coming over. I don’t suppose I can sign you up for a membership while you’re here? We have special discounts for teachers.”
“One of these days,” Laura said, looking around with envy at the sunshine-drenched exercise room with its view of a wooded area beyond. Working out here in air-conditioning would be so much nicer than the way too rare, sweat-drenched walks she now took around the park.
Paula gave her daughter a chiding look. “I didn’t invite Ms. Reed over here so you could make a sales pitch.”
Maddie laughed. “It’s part of my job description to reel in new members. Why don’t the two of you go out onto the patio. It’s quiet out there. I’ll bring you something from the café. Anything in particular you’d like?”
“I’ve heard the fruit smoothies are amazing,” Laura admitted. “Could I try one of those?”
“Of course. Strawberry-banana okay?”
“Perfect.”
“And I’ll just have a glass of sweet tea,” Mrs. Vreeland said. “And maybe one of Dana Sue’s blueberry muffins.”
“Low-fat?” Maddie asked.
Paula wrinkled her nose. “Not if I have a choice,” she said at once.
After they were settled at a wrought-iron table on the shaded brick patio, Paula regarded her directly. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you out of the blue.”
“I am curious,” Laura admitted, “but grateful, too. I’ve been dying to meet you ever since I bought one of your gorgeous prints and found out you lived right here in Serenity. Somehow I’ve never managed to run into you around town.”
“Praise and a purchase are always great ways to win an artist’s heart,” Paula said with a laugh, then sobered. “I’m afraid what I have to say is a touchy business.”
Laura listened with increasing dismay as the older woman filled her in on what had been going on between Annabelle Litchfield and Misty Dawson. When Paula handed her a computer printout of some of the vicious posts, as well as the nearly naked photos purporting to be Misty, she actually gasped. It was far worse than anything she’d imagined.
“I had no idea,” she said. “No wonder Misty wouldn’t show her face in my class. I’m surprised she’s come to school at all.” She sighed. “Of course, she hasn’t been there for a couple of days now, and she actually tried to get out of coming at all.”
“How did she intend to make that work?” Paula asked.
“She went to J. C. Fullerton and begged him to write her a medical excuse so she could stay home. He refused, but neither of us had any idea why she was so determined to stay out of school. She wouldn’t speak up. It’s only been in the past couple of weeks that I’ve had a real inkling about what was going on. This is exactly the proof I’ve needed to take this to the next level and get it stopped.”
“Thankfully someone brought it to my attention,” Paula said. “To say I was shocked would be an understatement.”
“So am I,” Laura admitted.
Paula nodded. “I thought you would be. Now, what are we going to do about it? It obviously needs to be handled delicately, but there’s no room at the high school for this kind of tormenting of a student, especially one as bright and sensitive as Misty.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Laura said.
They both fell silent for several minutes, pondering the next course of action.
Laura eventually gave Mrs. Vreeland a direct look. “I’ve dealt with all of the parents at one time or another. Mariah Litchfield isn’t going to handle this well, is she? I know Betty Donovan was anticipating a full-fledged explosion, even without knowing how bad things really are.”
Paula responded with a rueful smile. “Frankly, I fully expect all hell to break loose.”
Laura sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that. Then I assume we need to get all of our factual ducks in a nice row before she and Annabelle are confronted.”
“Definitely a wise decision,” Paula agreed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay out of this publicly unless it becomes necessary. Anyone could go online and find this evidence, so I doubt it’s necessary that my name be involved.”
“I can understand that you want to protect your source,” Laura said. “It wouldn’t take long for anyone to guess who that source might be.” Though Katie Townsend had refused to talk to Cal, she must have gone to her grandmother. Bless her for finding a way to involve an adult without violating Misty’s trust.
“But I will come forward if you need me at any point,” Paula assured her. “This kind of behavior can’t be tolerated. Other than trying to protect my source, I’m perfectly comfortable taking a public stand against it.” She smiled briefly. “And there’s very little that Mariah Litchfield can possibly do to me. I have no concerns for my reputation, just for my source.”
“Understood,” Laura said. “I don’t think we’ll have any problem finding people to stand firm against this once the facts come out.” She had a feeling J.C. would be leading the pack, and she intended to involve him at the very first opportunity.
Paula regarded her with approval. “Katie told me you’d jump all over this. She’s a great admirer of yours. I can see why.”
“Thank you,” Laura said, genuinely pleased, not so much by Paula Vreeland’s approval, but by Katie’s faith in her. “I won’t let either of these girls down.”
She weighed asking Mrs. Vreeland’s advice. “May I ask your opinion about something?”
“Of course.”
“You obviously understand how sensitive this situation is, especially with such awful pictures being posted online. I’ve been hearing talk that Misty’s parents are having problems. Normally I’d go straight to them with this, but I don’t want to make that situation worse.”
“I can appreciate your concern,” Paula said, “but do you really have a choice? Once you’ve taken this information to Betty and she’s taken action against Annabelle—suspension, I assume, if not expulsion—the whole town will be talking about it, asking questions and, sad to say, looking online for the evidence. Diana and Les Dawson deserve to be prepared for that. They need to know what’s been happening to their daughter before it all goes public, or should I say more public than it is already. Whatever their own problems, I’m sure they’ll want to be there for their daughter.”
Laura sighed. “My thought, too,” she agreed reluctantly.
And unfortunately there was no time to waste. The Dawsons had to be her priority. She’d find J.C. later and fill him in. It was far less important for her to have her own support system in place than it was for Misty to have hers.
“Could we meet here again?” Paula suggested. “I’d like an update on what’s happening, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m not going to rest well until I know that has been handled and that Misty’s safe once more. And I’ll want you to let me know if there’s any way at all you think I can help.”
“Absolutely,” Laura said. “And I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you and Katie trusted me with this information. I will do my best not to let you down.”
“I’m confident of that,” Paula said. “Serenity’s lucky to have you here. Not every teacher would be willing to go up against Mariah Litchfield.”
Laura couldn’t believe that. “Surely not.”
“Mariah’s the original town bully,” Paula confirmed. “Where do you think Annabelle learned her vicious ways? That sweet-as-pie exterior Mariah shows the world to get her way covers up a whole lot of mean. Once upon a time, she had her own dreams of superstardom, but getting pregnant put an end to those ambitions. Not only is she living vicariously through her daughter, but she’s filled with anger and resentment. Beware of that, Laura. Even though you’re on the side of the angels in this one, you won’t come out unscathed.”
Laura nodded. “I’m fully prepared for that,” she said staunchly, thinking of how Vicki Kincaid had once stood up for her against the name-calling by the other students at her school, and against the small-minded parents who thought a pregnant teen should be banished rather than allowed to complete her education.
Laura prayed she could live up to the example that had been set for her.