pageant, I had my line disengaged for three weeks. I know exactly what you're saying."
"Thank you," Julia said. Noticing the way the three pink flowers seemed to be wilting in the sun, she felt compelled to add, "Won't you come in?" They didn't waste one second before plowing past her toward Lance, who was standing between the door and the stairs.
Georgia B. looked him up and down, then said to Miss Georgia, "I think it's going to fit. Don't you, Evelyn?" Only then did Julia notice the garment bag that Miss Georgia had draped over one of her impossibly well-toned arms. Miss Georgia answered, "I think it might."
Georgia A. turned to Julia and explained: "When we got home yesterday evening, we remembered that Lance wouldn't have known to pack his tuxedo," she said in a "we're so silly"
tone of voice, and Julia remembered that the Georgias are not regular people.
Georgia A. continued, saying, "Of course, when I was your age, a man never traveled without at least one formal suit, but I know that times have changed."
Oh, Georgia, Julia thought, you have no idea.
Miss Georgia had taken a tux jacket out of the garment bag and was helping Lance slip it on.
The Georgias stood back and admired him as Lance worked his arms back and forth, trying out the fit.
"How does that feel?" Georgia B. asked. "Not too snug, I hope?"
"No," Lance said and grinned at her. "It's perfect."
There were congratulations all around as the Georgias stood in Julia's living room, looking excessively proud of themselves. Julia was taken aback when she saw tears swelling in Georgia B.'s eyes. "Georgia," she said, "what's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, dear," she said while dabbing at her eyes with a pink handkerchief. "It's just that Rosemary would be so proud to see this."
Julia couldn't believe her ears. Aunt Rosemary thought of this? She couldn't think of a single time in history when Ro-Ro had done anything for anyone. She certainly couldn't remember Ro-Ro shelling out to buy something that must have cost as much as that tuxedo. "Rosemary bought Lance a tuxedo?" Julia asked, disbelieving.
"No, dear," Georgia B. said, still dabbing at her eyes. "This was Wally's old tux—the one he wore to their wedding. Yesterday, when she realized how similar he and Lance were, she decided that someone should be getting some good out of it."
So, okay, Ro-Ro had given Lance a sixty-year-old tuxedo— that was more like it. But it was still the favorite tux of her favorite husband, and that fact struck Julia to the bone.
"A cut like that never goes out of style," Georgia A. said, admiring the jacket. "My William had at least twenty tuxedos in his life, and the first one he owned was more in style when he died than the last one he bought. Wally was the same way. Men like that are timeless."
Julia had to admit, Georgia A. had a point.
Like a magnet, her hand was drawn to a piece of nonexistent lint on Lance's shoulder. Her fingers lingered a little longer than she had intended, and Lance suddenly grabbed her wrist. He put his other arm around her waist and pulled her tightly to him. Electric sparks sizzled up and down her spine. It's the rug, Julia told herself, definitely static charge. Then, with one fluid, effortless motion, he dipped her low, and her whole world turned upside down. He moved closer and closer, until his face was only inches away. His lips parted as he said, "Wanna go to a party?"
"Yes!" a chorus of high voices cried out.
Julia turned her head to see three pink figures looming overhead, smiling.
Chapter Thirteen
WAY #52: Be prepared for anything.
Always have at least one ensemble for every occasion: to wedding, funeral, interview, party, etc. After al , some of life's III biggest moments come up with barely a second's notice.
ycamore Hills ," Lance said, pondering it. "Where have stone lane, past a guardhouse, and between the eighth and seventeenth fairways. She heard her inner golf announcer whisper, They're passing through the magnolia groves
"Thank you," Julia said. Noticing the way the three pink flowers seemed to be wilting in the sun, she felt compelled to add, "Won't you come in?" They didn't waste one second before plowing past her toward Lance, who was standing between the door and the stairs.
Georgia B. looked him up and down, then said to Miss Georgia, "I think it's going to fit. Don't you, Evelyn?" Only then did Julia notice the garment bag that Miss Georgia had draped over one of her impossibly well-toned arms. Miss Georgia answered, "I think it might."
Georgia A. turned to Julia and explained: "When we got home yesterday evening, we remembered that Lance wouldn't have known to pack his tuxedo," she said in a "we're so silly"
tone of voice, and Julia remembered that the Georgias are not regular people.
Georgia A. continued, saying, "Of course, when I was your age, a man never traveled without at least one formal suit, but I know that times have changed."
Oh, Georgia, Julia thought, you have no idea.
Miss Georgia had taken a tux jacket out of the garment bag and was helping Lance slip it on.
The Georgias stood back and admired him as Lance worked his arms back and forth, trying out the fit.
"How does that feel?" Georgia B. asked. "Not too snug, I hope?"
"No," Lance said and grinned at her. "It's perfect."
There were congratulations all around as the Georgias stood in Julia's living room, looking excessively proud of themselves. Julia was taken aback when she saw tears swelling in Georgia B.'s eyes. "Georgia," she said, "what's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, dear," she said while dabbing at her eyes with a pink handkerchief. "It's just that Rosemary would be so proud to see this."
Julia couldn't believe her ears. Aunt Rosemary thought of this? She couldn't think of a single time in history when Ro-Ro had done anything for anyone. She certainly couldn't remember Ro-Ro shelling out to buy something that must have cost as much as that tuxedo. "Rosemary bought Lance a tuxedo?" Julia asked, disbelieving.
"No, dear," Georgia B. said, still dabbing at her eyes. "This was Wally's old tux—the one he wore to their wedding. Yesterday, when she realized how similar he and Lance were, she decided that someone should be getting some good out of it."
So, okay, Ro-Ro had given Lance a sixty-year-old tuxedo— that was more like it. But it was still the favorite tux of her favorite husband, and that fact struck Julia to the bone.
"A cut like that never goes out of style," Georgia A. said, admiring the jacket. "My William had at least twenty tuxedos in his life, and the first one he owned was more in style when he died than the last one he bought. Wally was the same way. Men like that are timeless."
Julia had to admit, Georgia A. had a point.
Like a magnet, her hand was drawn to a piece of nonexistent lint on Lance's shoulder. Her fingers lingered a little longer than she had intended, and Lance suddenly grabbed her wrist. He put his other arm around her waist and pulled her tightly to him. Electric sparks sizzled up and down her spine. It's the rug, Julia told herself, definitely static charge. Then, with one fluid, effortless motion, he dipped her low, and her whole world turned upside down. He moved closer and closer, until his face was only inches away. His lips parted as he said, "Wanna go to a party?"
"Yes!" a chorus of high voices cried out.
Julia turned her head to see three pink figures looming overhead, smiling.
Chapter Thirteen
WAY #52: Be prepared for anything.
Always have at least one ensemble for every occasion: to wedding, funeral, interview, party, etc. After al , some of life's III biggest moments come up with barely a second's notice.
ycamore Hills ," Lance said, pondering it. "Where have stone lane, past a guardhouse, and between the eighth and seventeenth fairways. She heard her inner golf announcer whisper, They're passing through the magnolia groves
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