She’d been sick and mourning, and Rene had stepped in. “I think getting out sounds marvelous.”
“I’m going to take the Benz out,” Cricket confided. “I didn’t drive for a long time because I felt too weak. Then it made Rene nervous.”
“Well, he did spend time in a hospital because he was hit by a woman who had a heart attack while driving.”
“He’s done nothing but worry for the last three years, and he needs to stop,” Cricket said. “I need to show him I’m strong again. I’m alive, and that means I need to get on with the business of living. I’m going to the library this afternoon. I’m meeting with the head librarian about starting some children’s programs and a book club that doesn’t involve drinking Celeste Beaumont’s cellar dry. Those women do not take the books seriously.”
“Yeah, my mom is way more interested in the chardonnay.” Sylvie heard the doorbell chime and stood, picking up Lady. “I think that’s a great idea, but are you sure you want to drive?”
Cricket stood as well, her shoulders in a prideful pose. “I do. I’m taking my life back. It’s a lovely day and I shouldn’t have to worry about traffic. It’s the perfect time to get some of my freedom back. Now, you should start trying on some clothes. I suggest finding a bag that doubles as a shield of some sort. You’re going to need it with Roberta.”
“Ma’am, there’s a delivery,” the housekeeper announced. “I told them to bring it up here.”
As her room started to fill up, Sylvie hoped clothes were all she needed to get through the next few days.
She held Lady and let herself smile as the Louboutins started to stack up. “All right. Let’s call Sera and Hallie and have a fun afternoon. What do you say? And no chewing on the shoes.”
She let go of her worries for a while.
* * *
* * *
Rene looked down at his cell and smiled. Sylvie had sent him a picture of Lady sitting in a sea of designer boxes.
She had taken the day off after working long hours, and he wished he’d been able to be there to watch her try on the clothes the shopper had picked for her. He’d found a woman with exquisite taste.
He was still smiling down when the phone buzzed. That was when his smile fled, but he slid his finger across the screen to answer. “Hello, Aunt Roberta. Did you get in all right?”
“Are you asking if the drive to this hellhole of a town went without a hitch? Of course it didn’t. First of all, your cousin can’t drive. Whoever signed off on her license should be fired. I will be making my complaints to the DMV as soon as I get home, and I assure you it will not be with that nincompoop of a girl.”
He winced. He’d let himself be talked into paying Ashley to fly to Houston and drive Roberta back since she would not fly in what she called a “pressurized metal tube filled with bacteria.”
He should have known better, but her brother Gabriel had basically begged him. Her job hunt wasn’t going well and he was worried about her.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t pleasant. I’ll find you another driver on the way home.” He hesitated to ask the next question. “How is the room?”
Roberta harrumphed. “It’s passable, and the Guidry girl seems to have located her brain. She’s already got a roast in the oven, and she’s promised I can have dinner by myself since I have to suffer through tomorrow. You should allow her to cater in the board meeting. She’s an excellent cook.”
It was good to know at least that part was going well. He wasn’t sure he liked being told she considered the meticulously planned party something she had to suffer through, but he wasn’t going to argue. Especially since he would likely be the one suffering. “I’m glad that’s to your liking. I hope you enjoy the party. I know Sera and Sylvie have been working hard to make it special.”
“Yes. I heard your wife has taken an interest in the party. Is her mother coming?” The question had an air of expectation.
“As a matter of fact, my mother-in-law has expressed an interest in coming by to offer you her congratulations.” Marcelle was more than willing to play her part. “You know she spends a lot of her time with Delphine these days. They were wondering if you would like a reading.”
“Marcelle Martine is the only good thing about this town,” Roberta said under her breath. “Yes, that would be wonderful. I swear the psychics in Houston are all con artists. Not a single one with a bit of sight, I tell you. And since we’ve got such a big vote coming up, I would like some guidance, if you know what I mean. I’ve heard some rather upsetting rumors about what’s going on at the company. You seem to be losing clients.”