Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,10
attention from the pampered pair in front of her and focused it on her elderly friend. “Why? I’m sure it’ll be here soon—”
“I hope Debbie’s made a duplicate.”
“A duplicate?”
The woman’s gray head bobbed. “The first one really ought to be shoved—”
Tori shot a hand across Rose’s mouth, successfully cutting her off mid-sentence. “Not now, Rose,” she hissed. “Today’s about Sally, remember?”
“It’s a good thing it is or I’d be fixin’ to—”
Melissa cleared her throat, cutting Margaret Louise’s tirade short. “Sally’s cake is from right here in Sweet Briar and she’s gonna be tickled when she sees it, isn’t that right, Mee-Maw?”
Margaret Louise nodded then grabbed hold of her granddaughter’s hand. “That’s right. She is.” Turning on the soles of her Keds, the plump woman addressed the party guests. “Who’s ready to have fun?”
“I am!”
“Me, too!”
“I like fun, Mizz Davis.” Jackson Calhoun turned to the birthday girl. “Sally, I’m sure glad you invited me. This is gonna be the best birthday party ever.”
Ashley Lawson gasped. “Why Jackson Calhoun, don’t you remember coming to Penelope’s party last spring? With the elephant rides and the clowns?”
“I do. But this looks even funner. And besides, Sally is always nice to me. Sometimes Penelope can be kinda—”
Tori stepped forward, closing a hand over Jackson’s shoulder as Ashley’s face grew pale. “Shall we look through the books Sally’s mom has chosen and decide which ones we want to act out?”
Eleven little bodies jumped up and down, their feet clad in everything from sneakers to patent leather party shoes. Or, in Penelope’s case, miniature versions of something that looked an awful lot like Prada. Falling in line, one behind the other, the children followed Sally’s grandmother into the children’s room like eleven obedient little ducklings.
Pulling her shoulder bag higher on her arm, Ashley thwarted Melissa’s move to follow suit. “I’d prefer that Penelope not be placed beside Jackson Calhoun. That little boy is trouble.”
“Trouble?” Melissa asked as she exchanged looks with Tori. “Jackson Calhoun? You can’t be serious.”
“Yes, trouble. And yes, Jackson Calhoun. Didn’t you hear him just now? The way he tried to disparage my daughter? I simply won’t stand for that.” The woman turned on her own Pradas. “I’ll be right back. I must get Penelope’s costumes from the car.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that.” Tori stepped forward and extended her hand in Ashley Lawson’s direction. “We have costumes to go with all of the stories Melissa selected for the party. All your daughter has to do is choose the story she wants to act out and then find the costume that goes with that part.”
The woman’s chin rose into the air. “And you are?”
Despite everything she’d witnessed since the Lawsons’ arrival, she still found herself taken aback by the woman’s rudeness. It was unnecessary and more than a little uncalled for. Yet, as she herself had reminded Rose, it was Sally’s birthday. And for Sally she would find the restraint she needed to address her classmate’s mother. “My name is Victoria Sinclair and I’m the head librarian here.”
“Oh. That’s why I don’t know you. I prefer bookstores over libraries. The books are new and there isn’t that”—Ashley raised her nose into the air and sniffed—“musty smell that libraries always seem to have.”
“Then suit yourself,” Rose interjected, her voice dripping with ice. “We’ll show your daughter to a chair so she can wait for you to return with suitable costumes.”
“Thank you.” And with that, the bane of the kindergarten birthday circuit was gone, the only remnant of her presence the hint of her five-hundred-dollar-a-bottle perfume.
And her daughter.
“Just who does that woman think she is?” sputtered Rose.
“She’s Ashley Lawson.” Melissa inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders as she did.
“No, she’s rude. With a capital R.” Rose pulled the flaps of her sweater still tighter against her frail body and shuffled her way into the room, the sound of happy laughter doing its best to dispel the tension that still hung like a cloud over the hallway. “C’mon, Dixie, let’s make ourselves useful.”
“Do you think Miss High and Mighty would have a fit if she knew her precious daughter was inhaling bona fide library air just the other day?” Dixie mumbled as she fell in step behind Rose.
Tori turned to join them only to stop as the back door shot open and Beatrice entered with her charge, the nanny’s eyes moist with tears. “Beatrice? What’s the matter? Is everything okay?”
“I thought so. Until I saw that woman in the parking lot.” Beatrice handed a brightly wrapped package