she’d been flashing since they’d arrived, but she quickly turned to Darlene. “Are you ready?”
Before Darlene could answer, Layla turned back to Penny. “Excuse us, Penny. We were just on our way to look at the silent auction items.” She latched onto Darlene’s arm and coaxed her away.
“Now I’m going to need two drinks. Or four.” She rolled her eyes. “I will have Lacy St. John’s hide for putting me at the same table as Penny Peters. That woman irritates me to no end, and she’s as fake as they come.” Layla stopped dead in her tracks and faced off with Darlene. “I don’t like fakes. Or liars. Just so you know.”
“Okay . . .” Darlene took a deep breath, then let it out as Layla started to breeze between the tables where people were beginning to sit. After a few more interruptions from people who wanted to say hello to Layla, they made it to the auction tables. Making their way down the aisle, they both commented on the lavish offerings. There wasn’t anything here Darlene was going to be able to win with two hundred dollars. Almost everything had an opening bid of at least that much.
She thought about the silent auctions she’d been to in the past—for church or the kids’ schools or some worthy nonprofit. Most of them had opening bids ranging from five to twenty dollars, with the average selling for around one hundred dollars even if it wasn’t worth that much in monetary value. She figured most of these items would go well into the hundreds and thousands.
They saw lots of artwork. Expensive artwork, she thought, eyeing an oil painting depicting the square in the neighboring town of Fayetteville. Done by a local artist, the starting bid was twelve hundred dollars. She swallowed hard and moved on to the next item.
Darlene stayed in step behind Layla, hoping to find something she could bid on. Then, there it was. Layla passed right over it, but Darlene stared at the turquoise necklace and matching earrings. She had a set very similar to this one at home, although hers wasn’t real, just costume jewelry she’d picked up several years ago at a boutique in Houston. She lifted one section of the necklace. Much heavier than her fake at home. She thought about what Layla had said, about disliking anyone who was fake, and hoped that didn’t apply to a person’s possessions.
Opening bid—one hundred fifty dollars. Value—three hundred and fifty. She’d stretch her self-imposed limit if she could get it for that price. She scribbled in her name and the opening bid. Brad had bought her nice jewelry over the years for special occasions, but she couldn’t recall ever buying herself something this nice. She smiled, stood a little taller, and followed Layla, who she estimated had put her name on at least five different items.
Layla grunted as she put one hand on her hip. “Look at that. It doesn’t even belong here.”
Darlene leaned closer. It was a set of handmade cooking mitts, matching towels, and an apron, with an opening bid of one hundred dollars. Overly priced, like most of the items, but clearly crafted with love. “I think it’s lovely,” she said as she lifted her chin and looked up at Layla. Darlene could almost picture her grandmother making similar items when she was alive.
“You’re kidding, right? It’s cheap looking.” Layla turned toward their table. “I’m going to go get our wine. I’ll be right back.”
Layla walked off, and Darlene was glad she’d bitten her tongue and hadn’t told Layla she sounded like a snob. Layla’s comment made her question whether or not she would be able to have a true friendship with the former movie star.
She felt someone close behind her, then a tickle of breath on her neck. “See anything you like?”
She spun around. “Dave! What are you—” She smiled, shook her head. “Of course you would be here. How’s Cara?”
Dave had called the school on Tuesday to say that Cara had a bad cold. The next day, he took her to the doctor, and the doctor confirmed that she had strep throat. She hadn’t seen Dave or Cara since Monday when they came to see the chickens. She’d helped the other teachers with their one-on-one students the rest of the week.
“She’s much better. I stayed with her and worked from home all week.”
“Where is she now?” Darlene recalled Dave saying it was hard to get someone to watch Cara.
“With Myrna. She insisted I