Place Your Betts (The Marilyns) (31 page)

He kissed her on the cheek, slid behind the wheel, and closed the door. Betts felt her mouth fall open. She was absolutely speechless. They shared a son and should have shared a lifetime. Did they get a second chance?

She sure as hell aimed to find out.

***

Betts was finally going to her first high school dance. She glanced around the musty girl’s locker room of Hollisville High. Was it silly to be schoolgirl nervous at the age of thirty-three? And the worst part was that Betts didn’t know if the pinball game bouncing around inside her stomach was justified or just hopeful. She was on her first, really real date with Gabe. No sneaking around anymore. They’d sat together during the football game, and he’d had his arm around her. When anyone had gotten within five feet of her, Gabe had shot them a nasty glare that made even the most ardent Looky-Lu turn tail and run. A smile curled on her lips. It was nice he let her pretend to be a normal person for a while.

She shimmied on her brand-new homecoming dress. Unfortunately, the dresses had only arrived minutes before she was supposed to leave for the football game, and she hadn’t had time to try them on at home. The odor of the girl’s locker room wasn’t exactly ideal for trying on Vera Wang’s latest creation, but it couldn’t be helped. The announcer droned on in the background. The crowd roared. Hollisville had scored again.

Betts zipped up the side zipper. “Okay, girls, what do you think? This is the first one.”

Betts stepped out from behind a dressing curtain and twirled. The creamy chiffon, strapless dress fit tight to the waist and then billowed out in a million pleats to end in a swirling cloud around her knees.

Kaitlin tapped her index finger against her pursed lips. “It’s nice.” She didn’t sound anywhere close to convincing.

“I like the color, but it makes you look kinda hippy.” A pretty brunette named Linde smiled. Linde—pronounced like Mindy with an L, she’d told Betts earlier—seemed to bubble over with excitement. She was the quintessential cheerleader, fatally peppy.

“Right.” Betts stepped behind the curtain and pulled it closed. If she really didn’t want to hear what they had to say, she shouldn’t have asked. She slipped out of the dress, hung it up, and slid the next one over her shoulders. The sage-green silk fell into place. Like the first dress, this one was strapless and fitted, but the tailoring didn’t stop at the waist, it went all the way to the knee-length hem. It wasn’t tight, but it followed her curves nicely. It was unadorned and simple.

“Here’s number two.” Betts shoved the curtain back and gave a catwalk spin.

Two sets of eyes studied her, looked at one another, and then glanced down.

“What’s number three?” Kaitlin didn’t make eye contact.

Linde nodded. “I’m sure three is the one.”

Betts turned around. This one was so hideous it defied words. When she’d told the girls to be honest, she hadn’t meant this honest. She wriggled out of that dress and tossed it on the bench. That one didn’t rate hanging back up. The last dress was raw rust silk in a baby-doll cut with spaghetti straps. A simple gold ribbon ran right below the breast adding a splash of color before the dress billowed out with twirling pleats. It was her friend Charlie’s creation. For as long as Betts had known her, Charlie had wanted to design clothes, but her social and political commitments didn’t leave much time for anything else.

If only she and Lucky were here to see her at her first homecoming dance.

“This has to be the one.” Betts stepped from behind the curtain.

“Yes.” Linde clapped as she jumped up and down. “That’s perfect.”

“Mr. Swanson’s gonna be speechless.” Kaitlin nodded. “You look beautiful.”

Betts slid on the dyed-to-match silk shoes. “What about hair?”

“It needs to be up with some tendrils cascading down. Linde, can you bring me that pink tackle box over there?” Kaitlin pointed to an enormous box by the door.

“What about you? Don’t you need to get ready?” Betts allowed Kaitlin to push her down on stool in front of a bank of mirrors.

“Nope, this is about it. Mom did my hair. All I need to do is slip on my dress.” Kaitlin plugged in a curling iron and a flat iron. “It’s the same dress I wore earlier when I was crowned Homecoming Queen. I just put my cheerleader uniform back on so I wouldn’t mess it up.”

“Congratulations, by the way.” Betts patted her hand. “You looked beautiful.”

Whether it was the common bond of having embarrassing mothers or the way Kaitlin made Tom smile, Betts was starting to really like her son’s girlfriend. Kaitlin was a lot smarter and kinder than everyone, including the teenager herself, gave her credit for.

“She sure did.” Linde stepped behind Betts. “I’m so glad you won and not Cheyann. She’s a real bitch. Do you know what she called you yesterday?”

Kaitlin rolled her eyes. “Who cares?”

Linde’s perpetual grin widened. “Good for you. A few weeks ago you’d have been chomping at the bit. Tom’s had a positive influence on you.”

Kaitlin blushed. “I really like him.”

She met Betts’s gaze in the mirror.

Betts smiled and nodded. “I’m glad. He’s very happy.”

It was like giving her blessing if she had one to give.

Betts glanced at Linde. “What about your dress?”

“I’m wearing one of my big sister’s old ones. My dad got laid off, so fancy clothes aren’t in the budget.” The girl made that sad little tidbit sound cheerful.

“Why don’t you try one of those?” Betts pointed to her makeshift dressing room. “You’re taller and thinner, but one might fit.”

“Really?” Linde vibrated up and down. “Gosh.” She practically cartwheeled over to the changing room.

“See, I told you she was cool.” Kaitlin smiled at Betts.

Kaitlin pinned, tucked, curled, and sprayed for the next fifteen minutes. The final result was stunning. Betts’s unruly red hair coiled around her head with curly wisps fluttering down here and there. It was upscale romantic.

“Thank you. It’s perfect.” Betts tilted her head from side to side. “My highly sought-after, not to mention extremely overpaid, stylist has rarely done better.”

Kaitlin giggled. “Thanks. I really like doing hair and makeup.”

Betts smiled at her through the mirror. “Ever thought about cosmetology school?”

“My mom would flip.” Kaitlin squinted and threw her shoulders back, sticking out her chest just like Marva Ann. “College is the only way to make something out of yourself. Only losers don’t have degrees and you, Kaitlin Ann Smith, are a winner.”

Kaitlin sounded just like her mother.

“Guess, I’m a loser, ’cause I didn’t go to college.” Betts grinned. “College isn’t for everyone. There are lots of happy, productive citizens who never stepped foot on a college campus.”

“Mind explaining that to my mother?” Kaitlin arched an eyebrow. “Now for makeup.”

Kaitlin opened another, smaller tackle box. Tubes, bottles, compacts, brushes, and pots of every size were crammed in. “This is my pageant makeup case.”

“Kaitlin was the third runner-up in the Junior Miss Texas Pageant last year,” Linde called from the dressing room.

“Wow.” Betts hoped she sounded suitably impressed because it was hard to keep a straight face. She, Charlie, and Lucky—led by Mama—had made fun of beauty pageants for as long as Betts could remember.

Kaitlin froze. “That green is your color.”

Betts turned around.

Linde struck a pose. “Can you believe I’m wearing Valentino?”

“Really?” Kaitlin walked over and touched the dress reverently. “Can I try it on?”

“Why don’t you try on the white dress?” Linde pointed to Kaitlin. “I bet it would look fabulous on you.”

A few minutes later, Kaitlin strolled out.

“Gosh. Look at you.” Linde’s jaw dropped. “Beautiful doesn’t seem strong enough.”

Betts put an arm around each girl. “Let’s go find our dates.”

The girls may not be Charlie and Lucky, but it was nice to share this time-honored high school ritual with other girls.

A million white twinkle lights and miles of purple crepe paper had transformed the high school gym into a fairyland Tim Burton style. It was both cute and grotesque. Betts spun around to get the full effect. A silver mirrored disco ball reflected the tiny lights that zigzagged across the ceiling and trailed down the walls.

“Linde was on the decorating committee.” Kaitlin nudged her friend. “Looks great.”

Linde clapped and jumped up and down. “I know. Wait until they turn on the disco ball.”

“Fantastic.” Betts patted Linde on the shoulder.

“Where’s Tom?” Kaitlin grinned and grabbed Betts’s hand. The girl was nervous. Betts smiled. That was nice for her son. Kaitlin really liked him.

Gabe was talking with a group of boys and caught sight of her. The same nervousness that gripped Kaitlin found Betts. She wanted him to think she was pretty. Gabe’s mouth fell open. For several heartbeats, he just looked at her. Admiration was something she was used to, but this went beyond. Gabe worshipped her with his eyes. Happiness oozed through her.

Gabe made his way to her, his glance never wavering.

“Somebody’s got it bad for Betts.” Kaitlin squeezed her hand.

Betts squeezed her hand back. “I hope.”

“He’s looking at you like Price Charming did when he danced around the room with Cinderella.” Linde touched Betts’s shoulder. “Happiness isn’t a reward, it’s a destination. I saw that on a bumper sticker.”

Thank God Linde was cute because the Mensa membership committee wasn’t likely to come knocking on her door. Betts glanced at Kaitlin, who shrugged.

“My favorite is ‘Keep your butt in the car—the earth isn’t your ashtray.’” Betts said. From Prince Charming to bumper stickers—she could keep up.

“I like ‘Dream of Whirled Peas.’” Kaitlin laughed so hard she snorted.

Betts and Linde stared at Kaitlin.

“What? I’m a laugh snorter. Get over it.” Kaitlin snorted another time.

“Good evening, ladies.” Gabe stepped in front of Betts and held out his hand. “Ma’am, may I have this dance?”

“Um…sure.” They hadn’t danced together in seventeen years. She’d pointedly not asked for Gabe’s help when she’d taught Tom the basics of dancing. Dancing was personal. She looked around. And public.

Boston’s “More Than a Feeling”
rumbled from the many speakers around the room.

Her heart flip-flopped, bounced off her rib cage, and somersaulted. This was the song on the radio the night they’d first made love. It was their song—if they could have a song. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

Betts put her arms around his neck, and they slid into a swaying waltz sort of dance. “I guess the song isn’t a coincidence.”

“Being a chaperone does have its advantages. Not only do I have top priority on the request list, but I’ve also confiscated three bottles of liquor. Two I poured out, but one’s actually the good stuff. In case you’re planning on getting me drunk later so you can have your way with me, I stowed the bourbon in my glove compartment.”

“Planning ahead. I like that in a man.” Betts traced the back of his collar with her index finger. “You clean up nice.”

Gabe had on pressed khakis, a denim Polo button down, and brown Tony Lamas.

“I am very pretty if I do say so myself.” He smiled down at her. “If you play your cards right, you might get to find out if I’m wearing some sexy underwear.”

“Funny, I never pegged you for the silky thong type.” She nodded. “You learn something new every day.”

“Now hold on…I was referring to the possibility that I might be wearing my Ralph Lauren boxers instead of my everyday Jockeys.” He looked honestly scandalized. “The only silk underwear a man should handle are the panties he’s taking off his woman.”

“I see.” Betts ran her finger around his collar again. “I can’t wait to unwrap you like a present on Christmas morning.”

“I love Christmas.”

Betts glanced up to find that he was looking down her dress.

“Stop that.” Betts yanked on his collar and glanced around. People were staring—that she was used to—but she didn’t want them watching her with Gabe. That would make him a target too.

“What?”

“Stop looking down my dress. There are children present,” Betts hissed in his ear.

“So? Like every other guy in here isn’t doing their level best to figure out if his date is wearing a bra.” Gabe pulled her closer. “I like this dress. Are these thin straps really all that’s holding it up?” He slid a finger under one, tugged it down her shoulder.

Betts stomped on his foot and moved her strap back in place. “Don’t make me throw you out. How would it look if the chaperone got tossed out on his ass?”

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.” Gabe kissed the tip of her nose. “Your cheeks turn red, and your green eyes get darker.”

Betts glared at him. “How much of that confiscated liquor did you have?”

“I’m stone-cold sober. Just enjoying my date.” Gabe glanced around. “And so is everyone else.”

Betts followed his gaze. She and Gabe were the only ones dancing, and a large circle of people surrounded them. She was famous. People gawked. How could she have forgotten?

“Sorry.” She lowered her eyes. Just when she had started to feel normal, her real life jumped out and wanted an autograph.

“For what? Being the most beautiful woman here or for dancing with the handsomest man?” The boyish smile crossed his lips. “They’re not looking at you. They’re looking at me.” He winked at her. “You see, I’m sort of a lady’s man.” He sighed. “It’s a curse.”

Now, the truth came out. In her heart, she knew his celibacy claim was total bullshit. Nobody was that good in bed without practice. She accidentally on purpose stepped on his toe.

“Sorry.” Betts shook her head. “I must have missed the whole lady’s man routine.”

“Yeah…well, I don’t like to brag, but I date a lot.” His face screwed up. “Now, let me see… I’ve been on at least four dates in the last seventeen years. Wait. Does a lesbian wedding count? I danced with a bridesmaid, but I think she was married to the other bridesmaid.”

Betts relaxed. “You’re a real player.”