Mirror Image

Avery looked at Dorothy Rae from a different perspective and admitted that she might drink, too, if she were caught in a loveless marriage that was held together only by patriarchic decree. The situation was especially demoralizing to Dorothy Rae, who obviously loved Jack very much.

“Here,” Avery said, taking a fresh tissue from her purse and passing it to Dorothy Rae, “blot your eyes. Put on fresh lipstick.”

Just as she was finishing, Fancy pulled open the car door and got in. She sat on one of the fold-down stools facing them. “God, this campaigning shit really sucks. Look what that frigging wind did to my hair.”

Dorothy Rae glanced at Avery with uncertainty. Avery kept her expression impassive. Dorothy Rae took courage and turned to her daughter. “You shouldn’t use that kind of language, Fancy.”

“How come?”

“Because it’s unbecoming to a lady, that’s how come.”

“A lady? Right, Mom,” she said with an audacious wink. “You just go on deluding yourself. Have a drink while you’re at it.” She unwrapped a stick of Juicy Fruit and folded it into her mouth. “How much longer is this going to take? Where’s the radio in this thing?”

“I’d rather you left it off, Fancy,” Avery said. “It will wake up Mandy.”

She swore softly and tapped the toes of her red boots together.

“You’ll need to wear something more appropriate to the rally tonight,” Dorothy Rae said, glancing down at her daughter’s shapely bare thighs.

Fancy stretched her arms out on the seat behind her. “Oh, yeah? Well I don’t own anything appropriate. Thank God.”

“When we get back to the hotel, I’ll go through the things you brought and see—”

“Like hell, you will!” Fancy exclaimed. “I’ll wear whatever I damn well please. Besides, I already told you I don’t have anything—”

“How about going shopping this afternoon to buy something?” The two of them looked at Avery, clearly astonished by her sudden proposal. “I’m sure you could find a dress that is suitable but still funky. I can’t go, of course, but the two of you could take a cab out to one of the malls while Tate’s doing that TV interview. In fact,” she added, sensing their hesitation, “I have a list of things you could pick up for me as long as you’re going.”

“Who said I was going?” Fancy asked crossly.

“Would you like to, Fancy?”

Fancy looked quickly at her mother, who had spoken quietly, almost shyly. She was clearly astonished. Her eyes were mistrustful, but curious as well. Avery detected a speck of vulnerability behind the worldly façade.

“Why don’t we?” Dorothy Rae urged in a wavering voice. “It’s been ages since we’ve done something like that together. I might even buy a new dress, too, if you’ll help me pick it out.”

Fancy’s lips parted, as though she was about to nix the idea. After a moment’s hesitation, however, she resumed her I-don’t-give-a-damn smirk. “Sure, if you want to, I’ll go along. Why not?”

She glanced out the window and spotted Eddy as he led the group back toward the waiting limousines. “There sure as hell isn’t anything better to do.”

Forty

“Hello, Mr. Lovejoy.”

Van was bent over, diddling with his camera. He raised his head and shook his long hair out of his face. “Oh, hi, Av… uh, Mrs. Rutledge.”

“It’s good to see you again.”

“Same here.” He inserted a blank tape into his camera and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “I missed you the first week of this trip, but the family has been reunited, I see.”

“Yes, Mr. Rutledge wanted us with him.”

“Yeah?” Van leered with insinuation. “Ain’t that sweet?”

She gave him a reproving look. Although she’d seen Van at various times during the day and they’d nodded at each other, she hadn’t had an opportunity to speak with him until now. The afternoon had passed in a blur, especially after her enlightening conversation with Dorothy Rae.

“How’s it going?” Van asked her.

“The campaign? It’s exhausting work. I’ve shaken a thousand hands today, and that’s a fra