“Dad?” She shuddered against him. “Dad, Mom’s left us.”
Winnie gripped the steering wheel. She hadn’t been able to keep Gigi in the dark any longer. Maybe she and Ryan should have told her together, but that would have made it seem too serious, and she hadn’t wanted to scare her. Besides, she doubted Ryan would have agreed to talk to Gigi with her. He was too angry.
When she’d spoken with him a few hours ago on the phone, he’d been hostile and sarcastic, playing the long-suffering husband saddled with a crazy wife. And maybe he was right. What sane woman walked out on her husband because he didn’t love her enough? Still, she wasn’t sorry she hadn’t let him come up last night.
Ironically, she and Gigi had been having a good time at dinner once Winnie had gotten over the shock of her daughter’s hair. Not only had she added red streaks, but she’d also chopped chunks in it around her face, cutting too far in on one side. Still, she’d seemed happy with it, so Winnie had managed a compliment. And she hadn’t uttered a word about Gigi’s eye makeup or too-tight black outfit. After some initial awkwardness, Gigi had started to chatter away about how girls gave up their power, a topic that had first reared its ugly head after her clandestine meeting with Sugar Beth.
“. . . like when a girl does something goofy in class just to make some stupid boy she likes laugh. Or when the girls let teachers ignore them, even the women teachers. Mrs. Kirkpatrick calls on the boys a lot more than she calls on the girls because the boys are always jumping out of their seats, and she wants to keep them quiet. Today I raised my hand about six thousand times, but she still wouldn’t call on me. Finally, I jumped out of my seat, too, and started waving my arms until she got the point.”
“I remember getting passed over, too.”
“Because you were quiet.”
Winnie had nodded. “Not by Colin, though. He was the worst teacher in some ways, the best in others.” She’d put on her fake British accent. “Jasper, keep your bum in that bloody chair till I call on you. Winnie, speak up! I was terrified of him.”
Gigi had giggled, and for a few moments, it felt like old times. Then Gigi’s strawberry shortcake had arrived, and Winnie had known she couldn’t postpone telling her any longer.
“There’s something I wanted to mention before you hear it from someone else and get the wrong impression.” She’d made herself smile a little, as if what she was about to announce were no more unpleasant than a dental appointment. “I’ve decided I need a little time to myself. No big deal, and definitely nothing for you to worry about. But I’m going to stay at the store awhile longer.”
At first, Gigi hadn’t understood. “This is so lame! It’s not fair. You’re at the store even more now than before you hired Donna.”
Winnie’d tried again, speaking carefully. “It’s not entirely about work. There are some things I need to sort out. Dad and I got married when we were very young, but as people grow older they change a little. I want to think some things through. A few weeks maybe. A month. It’s nothing serious—I don’t want you to think that—but you’re also getting older, and it’s not fair to keep you in the dark.”
The petulance in her daughter’s expression had been replaced by dawning realization and then horror. Within seconds, Gigi made the leap to the ultimate disaster. “You and Dad are getting a divorce!”
“No! No, sweetheart, nothing like that.” Winnie hoped her own creeping doubts didn’t show. “Dad and I aren’t getting a divorce. I just need some time away, so I can figure a few things out.”
A vulnerable little girl replaced the sullen teenager, and Gigi began to cry. “You’re getting a divorce.”
Winnie knew then that she shouldn’t have chosen the Inn’s dining room to break the news, but she’d thought a public setting would make it seem less important. Once again, she’d been wrong.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” Gigi’s nose had started to run. “Because I’ve been such a bitch.”
“No, sweetie. No. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.” She didn’t add that Gigi’s behavior hadn’t helped. Instead, Winnie hustled her into the ladies’ room, where she’d hugged her, cleaned up the smeared eye makeup, and done her best to reassure both of them that this was only temporary.
She was still shaking as she climbed the stairs and let herself into the dingy apartment that had become the living quarters of the richest woman in Parrish, Mississippi. After she’d slipped into a T-shirt and her new blue-and-white-checked pajama bottoms, she settled down to do some paperwork, but she couldn’t concentrate. She picked up Southern Living and thumbed through the recipes, only to realize she had no idea who she might be cooking them for. The phone rang. She knew it would be Ryan. By now, Gigi had told him about their conversation, and he’d be furious. If she ignored his call as she wanted to, she’d only make things worse. “Hello.”
“Winnie, we’re all in the alley.” It wasn’t Ryan, but Merylinn. “Come down right now and unlock this door.”
She’d hoped a few more days would pass before the Seawillows learned that she’d moved out. “I’ll be there in a minute.” As she made her way downstairs, she considered the odds of convincing them she was only staying here so she could get an early start on inventory. Not good at all.
They looked as though they were dressed for a come-as-you-are party: Leeann in faded capris and a man’s work shirt, Merylinn in yellow J-Lo sweatpants with a matching tank and zipper jacket, Heidi in jeans. Amy must have gone to church that evening, because she wore a rose-colored suit with a white shell. They swarmed upstairs, bringing with them the scent of strong perfume and interference.
“We have sustenance.” Merylinn pulled a bottle of vodka from her tropical tote along with a silver cocktail shaker. “Thank God for Amy’s bladder infections. You always know where you can find cranberry juice.”
“I’ve been doing better with them.” Amy took the Ocean Spray from a sack and a couple cans of Coke, because she didn’t drink alcohol.
“If you’d pee right after you and Clint have sex, you wouldn’t get so many.” Heidi headed for the kitchen and began opening the cupboards, looking for glasses.
“I do pee,” Amy retorted. “It doesn’t help.”
Heidi waved a tumbler at her. “Right after? Or do you mess around some more first.”
“Depends.”
“I pee,” Merylinn said, “and I still get ’em sometimes.”
Trying to stop the Seawillows once they’d set themselves in motion was like trying to stop kudzu. Winnie sank down on the room’s saggy couch and let them do their work. Leeann pulled a box of Cocoa Puffs from a Radio Shack sack. “This was the only chocolate I had in the house. The kids got into my Hershey’s.”
The last time there’d been a Seawillows emergency involving vodka, cranberry juice, and chocolate, Leeann had ended up divorced. Winnie crossed her legs. “What’s all this about?”
“Sue Covner, among other people.” Leeann dumped the Cocoa Puffs in the bowl Heidi passed over. Sue was a notorious busybody and the wife of the owner of Covner’s Dry Cleaners across the street from Yesterday’s Treasures.
Merylinn headed for the kitchen. “Don’t anybody say another word till I get our drinks ready.”
The Seawillows were used to working together, and it didn’t take long for them to settle around the couch, glasses in hand, the French café table moved closer to hold the Cocoa Puffs, accompanied by some Skittles Heidi dredged from the bottom of her purse.
“Y’all can tease me if you want,” Amy said, “but this is serious business, and we’re startin’ off in prayer.” She grabbed Winnie’s and Leeann’s hands. “Lord Jesus, we’re here in the spirit of friendship to help Winnie and Ryan in their time of trouble. We ask you to give them forgiving hearts, so they can deal with their problems, whatever they might be. Remind them how much they love each other. And what you’ve joined together, Lord Jesus, don’t let anybody, and we mean anybody, pull apart. We pray in your name. Amen.”