A Discovery of Hope (A Coming Home Again Novel Book 3) (13 page)

As soon as their eyes land on JP, they rush over and surround him. “There’s our young handsome thang,” one of the ladies croons out. Each one takes turns hugging and kissing him. He has to stoop down for the majority of them to be able to reach him. By the time they’ve all greeted JP, his cheeks are speckled with various shades of lipstick and he’s grinning wider than I have ever seen.

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet Willow.” JP pulls me from behind him and places me in front of him as though he’s sacrificing me to these bubbly ladies. And these ladies actually cheer before bombarding me with generous hugs. Each one introduces herself as I’m wrapped in comforting arms. Their names are obvious nicknames and I get a kick out it—Veevee, Beebee, Leelee, Ceecee, Jeejee, Geegee, Sheshe, Deedee…

The lady with warm chestnut colored hair slings her arm around my shoulders as though she’s claiming me as her own, and I don’t think I mind at all. “Just call me Bee,” she says.

“Those can’t be your real names.” I laugh.

Bee squeezes me a little closer. “Suga’, you get through as much life as us ole broads have, you earn the right to call yourself anything you very well please.” Her southern drawl is thick and slow as though she is in no rush to speak. The group chuckles at her comment.

“Plus, this group has gotten too big and it takes too much effort to keep everyone’s name straight. We like to keep things simple,” the one who calls herself Veevee says. She looks like the tough cookie of the group. Her brightly colored bifocals are perched on the very tip of her nose and she’s eyeing me over the top of them. There’s a beaded chain dangling from each leg of her glasses that keeps sparkling when the light hits just right. She’s wearing a black and hot pink track suit with neon running shoes. She looks like she is on her way to run a race except her hair has been freshly curled and styled and her makeup is flawless.

I look around and find the rest of the group dressed impeccable in various perfectly tailored pantsuits and sensible shoes. Each one is clutching an oversized high-dollar handbag. I know my labels and clearly they do, too.

“Just who are you lovely ladies?” I ask as I try to take them all in.

“We’re the Gal Pals,” Geegee answers. She has bright snow-white hair but her soft blue eyes emit a youthfulness.

“The Gal Pals?” I question. I hear JP lightly chuckle behind me.

“Yes, darlin’. We got each other’s backs, fronts, sides, and even underneath if need be.” Ceecee says this with a firm nod of her head and then she shouts. “HOLLA!”

“HOLLA!” A chorus sings out through the group. My cheeks are already starting to ache from smiling so much.

Jeejee is the shortest of the ladies and I doubt she even reaches five feet. The little thing scoots over to JP’s side and laces her tiny arm through his giant one. “All right handsome. You know what we’re here for.”

JP pats her arm with his free hand. “Yes ma’am.”

Veevee steps forward and claims his other arm and they all start heading to the back room. I decide to stay put.

Leelee glances over her shoulder. “You comin’, suga’?”

“Umm… I don’t want to interrupt…” This causes them all to burst out in a fit of giggles worthy of any sorority.

“No orgy is taking place, darlin’,” Bee says between giggles, causing JP to bark out in a robust bout of laughter. “Some of us may have been known to be promiscuous in our glory days…” Bee pauses to cut Reeree a knowing glance with a smirk on her perfectly painted lips. “But we are all a bunch of genteel belles from the low-country who are absolutely in love with this man’s talent.”

“Well, he’s certainly not bad to look at either,” Geegee pipes in.

“JP entertains us ole gals and lets us plunder through the artwork in the back,” Ceecee clarifies. “Makes us feel special.”

I decide to follow and watch on as they ooh and aah photo after photo. They each select several pieces with JP making notes on an order sheet for each woman. Cash starts flying at this point. Cash! And lots of it!

“You ladies don’t carry plastic?” I ask in amazement.

“Not for this, suga’. Cash leaves no trail,” Veevee comments as she peels off several hundred dollar bills from a thick stash. “This way our husbands don’t precisely know how much our treasure hunts cost them.”

“It’s easier to fudge the bottom line with cash exchange,” Beebee adds. This woman has such a sweet smile that just welcomes you to stare. I look around and find each perfectly styled head nodding in agreement.

Wow. These women have really got this figured out. I watch on as JP gladly takes their cash and is flirting mercilessly with each woman. He gives each one a generous amount of his attention and they are eating it up. All I can say is the man is
smooth
.

He’s in the midst of sweet-talking Beebee when she sighs dramatically as only a genteel southern belle can do. “To be thirty years younger.” She pats his lipstick stained cheek wistfully. I’m thinking about grabbing my camera when I remember my phone is in my pocket. I whip it out and snag several pictures of JP surrounded by the Gal Pals with a fist full of cash, lipstick smears marring his face, and a toothy grin. This would make a killer blackmail picture.

“Oh, suga’, you just gotta send those pictures to me so I can put them on our Facebook page,” Geegee says.

“Facebook page?” I ask.

Geegee snatches my phone out of my hand. It looks like she is punching her contact information in my phone before passing it to the rest of the ladies so I guess they can do the same. These chicks type faster than a Red Bull-hyped teenager. No arthritis seems to be slowing them down.

“Yes, darlin’. Don’t worry your little self about the wrong eyes seeing your photos. Our page is private,” Sheshe says. This chick is almost as tall as JP and he’s at least an inch or two past six feet. Sheshe has a hip swagger like nothing bothers her, and I can almost guarantee she was one of those sixties free-spirited hippies. She hands me my phone back and I find it alerting me that I’ve been invited to join the Gal Pals via Facebook. I hit the accept button and pocket my phone.

“Okay, ladies. I’ll have Duke deliver you the goods this afternoon,” JP says as he ushers them back to the front gallery.

“Make it Monday, handsome. We got plans for today,” Geegee drawls out.

“Yes. It’s time for lunch and we are stealing Willow from you,” Bee adds as she wraps her arm around my shoulders once again.

I glance at the clock. “But it’s only ten in the morning.”

“Then brunch it is,” Ceecee sings out and adds, “HOLLA!”

JP smirks in my direction. “As long as you promise to give Willow back.”

“Can’t make any promises, honey,” Veevee practically coos. These broads just flirt with him shamelessly. It’s hilarious.

Before I can agree or protest, these ladies have shuffled me right out the front door and down the street to the corner bistro. The host, who happens to be a young man, tries to put us on the patio. But the ladies aren’t having it. Leelee tells him we are all too delicate for today’s humidity. She’s the quiet, prissier one of the bunch. She even touched up her makeup before leaving the gallery. The host seems to be working hard at reining in his frustration and gives in. He ushers us to a table in the very back of the restaurant. Shooting them a stern look, he reminds them they can’t get as rowdy as last time, making each one look a bit sheepish.

As I sit down next to Ceecee, I lean over and ask, “What kind of ruckus did you chicks cause last time?”

She waves her hand around as though she is trying to shoo the incident away. “Nothin’ much. Us girls wanted to have some fun and Mr. Stuffy Breeches didn’t appreciate it.”

The host throws his two cents in. “Now you know darn well Truth or Dare is not an appropriate game in a public establishment.”

“But—” Geegee begins but he interrupts.

“Not how you gals play it.” He points at her and gives the entire group another stern look. I think that might be a warning to them. He hands out the menus and quickly retreats.

As I study my menu, the group quietens down and I can feel these women’s eyes on me. I look up and sure enough, they are all studying
me
.

“Suga’, you remind me of Tropical Barbie,” Reeree says with a warm smile.

“Oh my. She most certainly does. I remember that Barbie. She wore the floral bathing suit with the big yellow flower in her hair.” Sheshe is nodding her head.

“I believe I bought that Barbie for my daughter… Or was it my granddaughter…” Leelee ponders.

“Where you from, darlin’?” Jeejee asks. I’m realizing they are only going to refer to me as darlin’ or suga’. I guess that’s better than the alternative—Weewee…

I decide to get smart with the gals, just so I can get a rise out of them. Their laughter is so rich and makes me hungry for more. I pull out my best southern drawl and answer as I bat my eyelashes dramatically, “I’m just a genteel belle from the low-country.”

They all roar in laughter and I join in.

Ceecee shouts, “HOLLA!” Of course, everyone repeats it after her, including me.

“I’m from Kiawah Island,” I say after everyone settles down.

“Aah… So you
are
an island girl,” Veevee says and gives me a wink over the top of her colorful bifocals. “Most fitting with those golden eyes and your warm complexion.”

The waitress bustles out with a tray of glasses. Another waitress follows behind her with a few extra pitchers of tea. I guess they don’t want this group to run out. I gladly take a sip of my super-sweet tea. The icy beverage cools my throat that is burning from all the rib-busting laughs.

“I’m biracial,” I blurt out as I tend to do anymore. I feel the need to share my race with them for some reason.

“Good for you, Suga’,” Bee says as she pats my arm. “Now. What we
really
want to know is if you’ve gotten a chance to taste those delicious-looking lips on that handsome devil back at the gallery.”

All the women lean closer in my direction, anticipating my answer. That night’s unexpected kiss flashes through my mind, causing heat to creep up my face. They all burst out in HOLLAS and WOOHOOS like a bunch of school girls.

Their outburst earns them a warning look from the host. He walks close enough to deliver a one-word warning. “
Ladies
.” They all roll their eyes at him and some do a shooing motion towards him while a few actually stick their tongues out. He hesitates to give them a glaring look before going back to the front of the restaurant.

“Those pink cheeks are all the answer we need. Gal Pals, our long-suspecting query has just been confirmed all over our pretty Tropical Barbie’s face! That man kisses as good as he looks,” Beebee says enthusiastically. She’s practically bouncing in her chair.

I glance around the table and find most of the gals fanning themselves dramatically. These
genteel
belles are a trip! I’m head-over-heels in love with them!

A younger woman, who’s maybe in her early forties, joins us after a while. Ceecee introduces her as her Keekee. She tucks her dark blonde hair behind her ear and smiles at me appreciatively. “Yay!! Young blood. Maybe these women will lay off me and my love life for a change.”

“I’m Willow, but will answer to suga’ or darlin’ also,” I say as she leans over to give me a hug.

“Welcome to this eccentric group, suga’,” Keekee says dramatically. She has a seat as we all order our choice of lunch specials.

After another spell of chats, Deedee leans over to Keekee and loudly whispers in a slow southern drawl, “She’s kissed our JP.” She’s all giddy at being able to share this and bounces a bit in her seat.

“I think JP probably gets plenty of kisses.” I snort, thinking about how flirtatious he can be. The man knows what he’s doing and knows his effect on women. Such a confidence he emits.

“Oh, I’m sure he has in his young handsome past, but you should have seen how he was justa’ watching you today, darlin’. I think he’s quite smitten with you,” Leelee says. She pushes her glasses up a bit on her petite nose and eyes me knowingly.

I feel another blush creep over my cheeks. “I’m not so sure about that,” I mumble.

“Nonsense,” Veevee says.

Thank goodness, the food is delivered. They drop the subject and Beebee leads us in a prayer that is very touching. She thanks God for me and asks for His blessings to be divvied out abundantly on my young life. I actually get choked up. I have definitely stumbled upon something special with this group. Or thrown head first in the midst of them is more like it. Either way, I’m grateful.

Lunch passes with one silly, crazy antidote after another. The host, whose name is Trent, has had to calm them down several times. They keep telling Trent, they say his name as though it’s a curse word, to just let them have their fun. These chicks know how to live it up and I find myself wishing Hope was here to enjoy them with me. I keep catching myself looking around for her. I’m starting to get attached to that angel.

We emerge from the bistro in the late afternoon, and I do believe I see the world through different eyes with how much these ladies have enlightened me. I’ve been served up life lessons on love, education, gardening, etc. right along with my she crab soup. I also have a pecan pie recipe scribbled on a napkin from Deedee. She insists I bake JP one as soon as possible. She says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but I’m not sure I want to make my way to that man’s heart. I barely know him. Although, I have to admit, I wouldn’t mind another kiss. Veevee agrees with Deedee and has ordered two large bags filled with to-go boxes for me to bring to JP.