Part 20 (1/2)

”Don't worry about a thing,” Vivien interrupted, taking Melanie by the shoulders, turning her around, and pus.h.i.+ng her gently out of the room. ”I'm going to help Shelby get dressed. Really, I think a nice cold shower is all she needs.”

Shelby's groan was louder this time.

Vivien smiled a Machiavellian smile that Melanie remembered from their childhood. Good things had not always come of it.

”Really, Mel, go ahead and take care of whatever you need to. Shelby and I will be down in fifteen minutes.”

Melanie looked at her sister and then at her daughter. It was clear something was up, but Vivien shook her head slightly and mouthed, ”trust me.” And oddly enough, she did.

It hadn't been easy, but fifteen minutes later Vivien did, in fact, guide Shelby down the stairs and into the kitchen where Ruth and Melanie were fussing with the food and Clay Alexander was mixing a pitcher of mimosas.

At Vivi's nudge, Shelby smiled wanly and hugged Clay, Ruth, and Ira h.e.l.lo before slumping onto a barstool between Trip and Ira.

”Are you all right?” Both Ruth and Melanie asked in a motherly chorus. Melanie leaned across the counter to put the back of her hand to Shelby's forehead. ”You don't feel like you've got a temperature.”

”Do you need to go back to bed, Shel?” Clay asked as he poured a mimosa into a champagne gla.s.s for Melanie.

Vivien bristled. She was rumpled and water stained from her tussle with Shelby while he was perfectly turned out in chinos and an open-collared s.h.i.+rt with a trim alligator belt at his waist. She took exception to how comfortable he looked in Melanie's kitchen and how easily he a.s.sumed the father-figure role. She'd read Shelby the riot act and risked life and limb to get her down here; she was not about to allow Clay Alexander to let her off the hook.

”She's fine,” Vivien said. ”Nothing to worry about.”

”Duly noted.” Clay's smile was both amused and superior. As they carried their plates into the dining room, he claimed the head of the table and throughout the meal, he played genial host, pulling Ira and Trip into a debate about that day's bowl games and praising Ruth's blintz dish. ”They're delicious,” he said smoothly. ”And unbelievably light.”

Ruth blushed with pleasure. And regardless of what Melanie said, her sister did not seem immune, either. Irritated, Vivi kept an eye on Shelby, ready to provide another ”come to Jesus” meeting if necessary, but as the meal progressed Shelby's eyes became less gla.s.sy and she began to join in the conversation. When Melanie stopped eyeing her daughter with concern, Vivi figured the aspirin and gla.s.ses of orange juice must have kicked in.

A cell phone rang and they all looked up from their plates. Ira pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. ”I'm sorry, but I have to take this,” he said as he left the table.

”Aaach.” Ruth's face flushed as she placed her fork on her plate. Vivien didn't understand why Ira taking a call was such a big deal, but then what she didn't know about Ira and Ruth Melnick could fill a couple of libraries.

”How was the party last night?” Melanie asked Shelby.

Shelby stopped chewing. With all eyes now on her she swallowed. ”Good. It was, um, good.” She nodded her head for emphasis.

”You must have been pretty wiped out. You were already asleep when I got back from the studio.”

Shelby blinked rapidly and ran a finger underneath the rim of her turtleneck. ”Yeah. I was . . . tired.”

Ruth looked between the two of them. So did Clay.

Vivien piped in. ”You didn't say how the party at Magnolia was, Mel. Did you have a good crowd?”

”Yes, thank goodness.” Successfully distracted, Melanie smiled. ”We had one hundred fifty people, even more than had RSVP'd. I'd been so worried we wouldn't break even, but it was a great way to end the year.”

”What did you and Josh do last night?” Clay asked Trip, who'd been plowing his way through the mounds of food on his plate.

”Ordered pizza. Played Call of Duty.” The question answered, Trip turned his attention back to his plate. Vivi had counted three trips to the buffet. Vivi was sure of this because she'd been right behind him.

Melanie seemed to realize how vague Shelby's answer had been and circled back to the topic. ”Who all was at the party, Shel? What did Mrs. Barrett serve?”

Vivien had to bite back the ”You mean, other than the rum and c.o.ke?” that sprang to her lips. But, of course, it was unlikely the mixed drinks had been an official part of the menu. Shelby had refused to tell her who had supplied the alcohol.

Before Shelby could come up with an answer to the first questions, Melanie asked, ”Was Ty there?”

Shelby blushed, and Vivien thought, Bingo! remembering the boy from the Pemberton football game.

”Yes,” Shelby finally responded. ”He, um, asked me to the prom.”

”That's great, sweetie,” Melanie said, apparently unaware of the boy's reputation. ”When is it again?”

”The middle of March,” Shelby said.

”Perfect,” Melanie said, and Vivien wondered if she'd made a mistake in hiding Shelby's transgression. If Melanie knew that Shelby had come home drunk, would she be as pleased about Shelby's date? Would it have made her watch Shelby as carefully as someone apparently needed to? ”That leaves lots of time to find a really great dress,” Melanie said.

”I thought maybe Clay could take me shopping,” Shelby said.

Vivien's head snapped up. She'd been so busy second-guessing herself she'd only been half listening. ”What did she say?”

Melanie laughed. ”She wants Clay to help her find a dress.” Seeing Vivi and Ruth's doubtful looks, she explained, ”Clay has the best taste of anyone I've ever known, plus he's dated two or three Miss Georgias and one super-model. He's helped me choose pretty much every ball gown and all of the campaign wardrobes I've ever bought. He knows all the best boutiques.”

Clay smiled; was she just imagining that it was taunting? ”You can come with us if you want, Vivi. We could make a few stops at some of the better maternity shops.”

”Thanks,” she said, the nature of his smile now confirmed. ”I may take you up on that.” She a.s.sumed his fas.h.i.+on prowess was overstated, but spending more time with him might yield answers, a.s.suming she ever figured out the right questions.

Clay clanged a knife against the champagne gla.s.s that held what remained of his mimosa. ”Since the new year seems like the right time to share new things, I have an announcement to make.”

Everyone at the table fell silent. Clay's gaze sought Melanie's.

”J.J.'s state house seat is coming open,” he said. ”And I've been asked to run for it.”

Clay continued to watch Melanie. ”What do you think, Mel? Do you think I should do it?”

Melanie's eye's shone with unshed tears as they often did when J.J.'s name came up. But Vivien had no idea whether they were tears of sadness or of joy. Vivi, who'd been watching Clay usurp more and more of what had been J.J.'s, was pretty creeped out.

”I think J.J. would be pleased,” Melanie said finally. ”He always said no one was more in synch with what drove him politically than you.” She smiled softly despite the sheen of tears. ”There's a certain symmetry in having his best friend carry on what he began.”

Vivien studied Clay Alexander, once again looking for some clue to what drove him. Professor Sturgess claimed Clay was most comfortable in the background, but now that J.J. was gone, he seemed prepared to move front and center. Had he been chomping at the bit while J.J. was alive, angling for an opportunity? Had J.J. been an obstacle to his own ambitions?

”You know, I've been trying to figure out why you left Asheville, where you were already running statewide campaigns, to run J.J.'s first campaign,” Vivien said.

He looked at her as if he didn't understand what she was asking.

”I mean it was a step backward, wasn't it?” Vivi asked. ”In political terms?”

Clay dabbed at the corner of his mouth with his napkin, and Vivien sensed him regrouping. ”J.J. was an old friend,” he finally said. ”And I knew he had what it took to get elected to a lot more than a county commission seat.” He looked over at Melanie, adding, ”And, of course, there were other incentives. I'm sure Mel would confirm that J.J. was not an easy man to say no to.”

Vivien watched Clay carefully. He was so smooth that anything he said sounded plausible; yet there was always some sort of subtext underlying his words.