Page 73 of One Southern Summer

“Yes, yes she did. Now, keep quiet and let’s go find our seats.”

Distracted by the indignant rage boiling inside, she was forced to comply with Lucille’s instructions. Olive’s insult had stunned her into submission. Not a single coherent thought rattled around in her addled brain.

“Here.” Lucille let go of her arm long enough to reach inside her pocketbook and pull out a pair of white sunglasses. “Put these on.”

So tacky. Maribelle grimaced. “No, thank you.”

Lucille shook her head. “You are so obstinate. Did you think you were going to get inside this event without anyone saying anything to you about your family?”

“I don’t expect anyone will be nearly as uncouth as Olive.”

“What are you planning to do when we get inside?” Lucille still held the sunglasses. As if Maribelle might somehow be convinced to change her mind.

“I’m going to get the book that I’ve already paid good money for and wait in line until it’s my turn to speak to Pax.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Lucille shook her head. “I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you and you’re going to try to give him a lecture. First you’ll list all the things he’s done wrong to hurt your granddaughter’s feelings then you’ll probably go on and on about how he’s abandoned his children—”

“Well, yes. I was maybe going to mention some of that.” Maribelle sniffed then tugged on the hem of her royal blue tunic. She’d worn it because it was her favorite and frankly, it looked stunning paired with her bright white slacks. Besides, she’d heard somewhere that blue projected power. Boy, she needed all the power she could muster. She needed people to listen and get out of her way, not hold her back and boss her around.

“Let’s keep moving, Lucille. This crowd is fierce.” Maribelle started toward the entrance again.

“Maribelle, for once in your life, listen to my advice. You cannot go in there and make a scene.” Lucille’s kitten-heeled pumps clacked along on the pavement. “Do you understand?” Maribelle huffed out a breath and walked faster. Except somebody bumped into her and she stumbled. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Lucille clasped her elbow again, holding them both upright in the throng. They had less than ten minutes until the event was scheduled to begin.

“See? I wasn’t wrong. There are so many people here we’re never going to get inside before they start.” Panic laced her voice and Maribelle tried in vain to increase her speed again.

“I’m not going one step farther with you until you promise me that you are going to keep your mouth quiet.” Lucille emphasized each word like Maribelle was a first grader. Honestly, Addison got more respect than she did.

“I will promise you no such thing, Lucille. I have every right to be here and speak my mind.”

“No, you don’t. Not if you’re going to embarrass me, your friends and more importantly your family. Do they know you’re here?”

She avoided answering and kept her eyes locked on the ground.

“Answer me. Did you tell them you had a ticket and that you bought a book?”

“What difference does it make?”

“I’m trying to get you to think of someone or something other than your own emotional state. If I were Avery, I would not want you in here, especially after the week she’s had. Let sleeping dogs lie and all that.”

Lucille might have a point, but Maribelle was not going to give her the satisfaction of admitting it. Lucille didn’t know what it was like to have your only son walk out and never come back. She and Lucille were both widows, but Maribelle’s loss still seemed far greater. When her husband died, she’d lost her only ally, the one person who shared her heartache.

Not that he ever wanted to talk about it.

He’d been a good husband. A good man who possessed a gift that she did not. The mind-boggling ability to let things go.

Maribelle glanced from Lucille to the front door of The Oasis then back to Lucille. “All right, you win. I’ll behave.”

“Outstanding.” Lucille smiled. “Now, let’s go have a good time.”

Inside, the thick fragrance of floral perfume and spicy cologne swirled around them. They let the crowd carry them into the atrium of The Oasis with its high ceilings and vast corridor dividing the building. Four young women with long hair styled in loose waves, flawless makeup and stylish outfits flanked both sets of double doors leading into the auditorium. Maribelle battled back an unexpected wave of nausea.

What was wrong with her? She fumbled in her pocketbook for something to fan herself with.

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