"Yuk." Charlie grimaced. "I didn't like this the first time we did it, twenty years ago."
"Least it's not a horse's ass," Harry quipped. She had been conned by Susan to help with the first superlative shoot.
"No, I've got Boom for that."
"You know, Charlie," she hissed through clenched teeth, "you won Best Looking but you sure didn't win Best Personality and you never will."
"Like I care." He beamed to the camera.
Susan stood to the side holding up a reflector, which the steer distrusted. Crouched beside the large animal were Fair Haristeen on one side and Blair Bainbridge, equally tall, on the other.
Although Blair was a professional model, Charlie Ashcraft held his own. He was a strikingly handsome man, with curly, glossy black hair, bright blue eyes, and a creamy tan. At six foot one with a good body, he bowled women over. He knew it. He used it. He abused it. He left a trail of broken hearts, broken marriages, and broken promises behind him. Despite that, women still fell for him even when they knew his history. His arrogance added fuel to the fire. He was loathed by those not under his spell, which was to say most men.
Her shoulders ached, her deltoids especially, as Harry held the silver reflector behind Denny Rablan. She thought, How like BoomBoom to take her own photo first. No matter what, her visage will be plastered all over the gym. Instead she said, "Denny, I'm putting this down for a minute." The heat was giving her a headache, or was it the reunion itself? She wasn't sure she had improved with the passage of time.
Click. He said without looking at her, "Okay. All right, take a break, especially Hercules here."
Fair stepped up and put a small grain bucket in front of Hercules, whose mood improved considerably.
Marcy Wiggins in her candy-apple red Taurus GL drove down the farm lane followed by Chris Sharpton and Bitsy Valenzuela in Bitsy's Jaguar XJR, top down.
"Oh no, are we late?" Chris wailed, opening the car door.
"No, we're taking a break. Harry's arms are tired," BoomBoom answered.
"I'll hold the reflector," Chris eagerly volunteered.
"Great. You've got a job." Harry handed her the floppy silver square.
"Boom, you look fabulous-professional makeup job, I bet," Bitsy cooed.
"Oh . . ." BoomBoom Craycroft had no intention of answering that question.
Charlie glided over. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure."
"You have, too." Bitsy laughed. "I met you at the Foxfield Races. My husband is E. R. Valenzuela, the president of 360° Communications here in town. You let me know if you need a cell phone in your car, you hear now?"
"Foxfield, well, that is a distracting environment." He smoothed his hair, which sprang back into curls. "I had no idea E.R. had such good taste in women."
Then brazenly, Charlie swept his eyes from the top of Chris's head to her toes. "A model's body. Tall and angular. Have I ever told you how much I like that?"
"Yes." She laughed. "Every time you see me."
He beamed at each lady in turn. Marcy turned beet red. "I'll call you the three Amuses. Good, huh?"
"Brilliant." Chris's eyelids dropped a bit, then flickered upward.
"God, Charlie, I hope you don't say that to my husband." Marcy swallowed hard.
"Do you know what I say to any woman's husband? 'If you don't treat her right, some other man will. Just because you're married doesn't mean you can relax. A woman's got to be won over each and every day.'" He smiled from ear to ear.
"Good Lord," Marcy whispered.
"I think I'll help Boom," Bitsy brightly said as she skipped past her friend.
Bitsy wiped the shine from BoomBoom's nose, adding a dab of lipstick to her mouth.
Denny clapped his hands, which disturbed Hercules, who let out a bellow. "Let's go."
Harry, arms crossed, watched Charlie stoop down, Hercules on one side and BoomBoom on the other.
"Harry, why don't you take away this bucket?" BoomBoom pointed at the bucket.
"You crippled?" Harry turned on her heel, striding to her old Ford truck. "Adios."
"You're not going to kiss me good-bye?" Charlie called out. He puckered his lips.
"I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last man on earth," Harry said, as Susan's jaw nearly dropped to her chest.
"Hey, I love you, too."
"Charlie, is this a command performance?" Marcy asked, voice wavering.
He winked at her, then called after Harry, "I understand you called me a body part at the reunion meeting."
"I should have called you an arrogant, empty-headed, vainglorious idiot. 'Asshole' showed a lack of imagination." She smiled a big fake smile, her head throbbing.
"You've been divorced too-o-o long," he said in a singsong voice.
She stopped in her tracks. Fair's face froze. Susan covered her eyes, peeking out through her fingers. BoomBoom squared her shoulders, ready for the worst.
"You know what, Charlie? My claim to fame is that I'm one of seven women inAlbemarleCounty who haven't gone to bed with you."
"There's still time." He laughed as Marcy Wiggins' face registered dismay.
"You'll die before I do." Harry turned, heading back to the truck.
This icy pronouncement caught everyone off guard. Charlie laughed nervously. Dennis took over, rearranging the principals except for Hercules, who was firmly planted close to the grain.
Then Charlie yelled after her, "I knew you sent that letter about me not growing old."
"Dream on." Harry kept walking. "I wouldn't waste the postage."
"Susan, you aren't going, too?" BoomBoom's voice, drenched in irritation, cut through Hercules' bellow as he cried for his grain bucket. Susan left with Harry.
Susan leaned over to Harry as they walked away. "You got a wild hair or what?" she said, sotto voce.
"I don't really know. Just know I can't take any more." Harry rubbed her temples. "Susan, I don't know what's happening to me. I have no patience anymore. None. And I'm sick and tired of beating around the bush. Hell with it."
"M-m-m."
"I don't want to be rude but I'm fresh out of tolerance for the fools of this life."
"Your poor mother will be spinning in her grave. All the years of cotillion, the Sunday teas."
Harry put her hand on the chrome door handle of the 1978 truck. "Here's what I don't get: where is the line between good manners and supporting people in their bullshit? I'm not putting up with Charlie for one more minute." She opened the door but didn't climb inside. "I've turned a corner. I'm not wearing that social face anymore. Too much time. Too much suppressed anger. If people are going to like me they can like me as I am. Treat me right and I'll treat you right."
"Within reason."
"Well . . . yes." Harry reluctantly conceded.
Susan breathed in the moist air. The heat had finally returned and with it the flies. "I know exactly how you feel. I'm not brave enough to act on it yet."
"Of course you are."
"No. I have a husband with a good career and two teenagers. When the last one graduates from college-five more years-" She sighed, "Then I expect I'll be ready."
"Tempus fugit." Harry hopped in the truck. "Charlie Ashcraft has not one redeeming virtue. How is it that someone like him lives and someone good dies? Aurora Hughes was a wonderful person."
"Pity. He is the most divine-looking animal." Susan shrugged.
"Handsome is as handsome does."
"Tell that to my hormones," Susan countered.
They both laughed and Harry drove home feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. She wasn't sure why. Was it because she had erupted at BoomBoom? At Charlie? Or because she had gotten tired and left, instead of standing there feeling like a resentful martyr? She decided she wasn't going to help with any other senior superlative photographs and she wasn't even sure she'd go through with her own. Then she thought better of it. After all, it would be really mean-spirited not to cooperate. They were all in this together. Still, the thought of BoomBoom hovering around . . . Of course, knowing Boom, she'd put off Harry's shot until last and then photograph her in the worst light. Harry thought she'd better call Denny at the studio tomorrow.