The Belles of Desire, Mississippi (The Ghosts of Summerleigh Book 1) by M.L. Bullock

Author:M.L. Bullock [Bullock, M.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-01-14T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen—Harper

Addison and Loxley played a hand-clapping game on the front porch. It was a familiar song, Miss Mary Mack. Loxley did all the singing because Addison had a sore throat, but even the littlest Belle knew to keep things toned down today. The quiet tension rose, and it didn’t help that Jeopardy was stomping around upstairs; I could hear her footsteps as I passed through the Great Room. Fortunately, no one else had yet.

Momma lounged in the parlor with Miss Augustine. The two of them were flipping through magazines and gossiping about Bette Davis’ new movie, The Man Who Came to Dinner. They’d driven all the way to Mobile twice to see it, and both times came back with something negative to say about the big-eyed actress. According to Desire’s cultural department, the two women in our parlor, Bette Davis was a sourpuss with no acting skills whatsoever. I tried not to snort. I’d never seen a Bette Davis movie, but since these two didn’t like her, I figured I probably would.

And the debate raged on. Lana Turner was hands down Momma’s favorite, while Miss Augustine preferred Rita Hayworth or Gene Tierney. “Lana Turner is too hoity-toity for my taste.” The two women rarely argued about anything except important matters like who should get top billing in Hollywood’s latest film or which actress had the most beautiful penmanship or some other nonsense they’d fight to the death to have the last word about. Before Daddy left us, Momma used to teach Loxley how to walk and wave properly, just in case she landed a pageant, but not anymore. Loxley didn’t seem to mind. Momma used to win pageants when she was young. Lots of them.

“Really, Ann. You go too far!”

Today was one of those days. Miss Augustine made an offhand remark about someone’s bathing suit photos in the tabloids, and Momma exploded. Luckily for Miss Augustine, Momma took her home and didn’t make her walk, but our mother came back in an even greater huff than the one she left in. Everyone got quiet when her car pulled into the driveway. We waited for her inner storm to abate, all except Jeopardy. She kept walking around upstairs, and a few times I thought I heard her talking to herself. Once Momma got settled into her chair again, I said, “The Lady Detective Show is coming on. Should we listen to it?” Addison clapped her hands gleefully and came in off the porch, to which Loxley made a raspberry sound at her back. I noticed she came inside too, though. Momma’s eyes went to the ceiling; she must have heard Jeopardy, but she didn’t care enough to ask about her. But then someone knocked at the front door.

After fussing with her hair for a moment, Momma went to the door with all us girls except one trailing behind her. I couldn’t believe who was standing there, complete with a bouquet of flowers in his shaking hands.

It was Troy Harvester, looking nice and smiling nervously at Momma.

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