Marjorie had gone on to explain that Beatrice was a snobby, arrogant and occasionally even cruel woman who was tolerated around town only because her husband had a lot of money and didn’t mind spending it on community projects. “Every town has people like Beatrice,” Marjorie had added with a sigh. “And I try very hard to like her. But I just can’t.”
Beatrice greeted Cameron and Serena as if she were doing them a favor to notice them. Teresa imagined that the woman considered Cameron worth her attention because he came from a wealthy Dallas family and had quite a bit of money of his own. Serena, of course, was an attorney and the daughter of longtime members of Edstown society, so Beatrice treated her comparatively cordially, as well. She turned her attention to Riley only after she had taken her time with the Norths.
“Well, Riley. You’ve been stirring up trouble with that column of yours again,” she said frostily. “I didn’t much appreciate your tasteless jokes about my Eastern Star lodge.”
“Sorry, Beatrice,” he returned irreverently. “But how can I help it when y’all give me so much great material?”
“You said we reminded you of a fleet of sequined battleships surging through the dining room of the Ramada Inn,” she quoted indignantly. And then she turned to Cameron. “And you let him print it. Don’t you have any control over this man?”
Cameron wasn’t doing a very good job of camouflaging a grin. “No one has much control over Riley.”
Marjorie interceded quickly. “Beatrice, Charles—you’ve both met our friend Teresa Scott, haven’t you?”
Beatrice studied Teresa through her oversize, glittery plastic-framed glasses. “I don’t believe we have.”
“Of course you have. She works for me at the diner.”
Beatrice’s chin rose a bit higher. “The new waitress? Of course. How generous of you to bring her with you tonight, Marjorie.”
Though she didn’t appreciate being made to sound like a charity case, Teresa wasn’t particularly offended. It was the sort of comment she would have expected from this woman.
“Actually, Teresa’s here with me,” Riley said, moving a step closer to her. “And I was honored that she accepted my invitation.”
“I see.” Beatrice gave Teresa the same sort of smile she might have directed toward a small child. “Did you have a nice time?”
“Yes, very nice, thank you.”
“It must have been very exciting for you to dine with the distinguished members of Edstown society this evening. Instead of serving them as you usually do, I mean.”
Marjorie gave a little gasp in response to Beatrice’s deliberately condescending tone.
Teresa felt Riley stiffen at her side, and she just knew he was going to say something outrageous. She put her hand quickly on his arm, letting her fingernails sink lightly into the fabric of his jacket.
“It was nice to see so many of the new friends I’ve made through the diner,” she said before Riley could speak.
Beatrice’s attention had already wandered off. “Oh, Charles, there’s the mayor. I want to catch him before he leaves. I want to ask him just when that pothole in front of our house will be repaired.”
Without even bidding good evening, she started to move away.
“Instead of sequined battleships, I believe my next column will be about sequined battle-axes,” Riley said, clearly enough for Beatrice to hear him. Teresa saw her stiffen for a moment, but her husband urged her toward the mayor.
“That old witch.” Marjorie turned to Teresa with uncharacteristic anger burning in her blue eyes. “Don’t let her bother you, dear. She just seems compelled
to treat everyone as a social inferior. As if I didn’t know that she grew up poor as a church mouse and was Charles Herter’s mistress for two years before she finally convinced him to divorce his first wife and marry her thirty years ago.”
Serena rested a calming hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Careful, Mother, before you say something you’ll regret later.”
“I can’t believe she was so deliberately rude to Teresa!”
“I’m the one she’s mad at, for what I wrote about her lodge,” Riley muttered, looking as angry as Marjorie. “So she took a swipe at Teresa because she was with me. Wait until Beatrice reads what I write about her next.”
“Riley, it’s okay,” Teresa said firmly, embarrassed by the attention. “Don’t get so upset about it. After all, she merely pointed out that I’m usually waiting tables rather than being waited on, and that’s true.”
“It was the way she said it,” Riley growled. “As if working in the diner makes you inferior to her.”
“Well, since I enjoy my job and do it because I choose to, I won’t let her attitude bother me. You shouldn’t, either.”
The glare he sent in Beatrice’s direction made it clear that he wasn’t appeased.