Chapter 28 Lovey Old School
Lovey
Old School
One of the most important things a girl can be is a good judge of character.
Even now, I can tell in less than a second whether I trust someone.
Your eighties are rough on the gait, eyesight, hearing, smelling and tasting, but, somewhere in there, your trust muscle gets worked like a bride by a personal trainer until it’s strong and ready to take on anything—even that size-too-small Vera Wang.
That’s how I knew instantly that I didn’t like the look of that Laura Anne.
She seemed sweet enough, sure, but I could tell that underneath that sparkling gymnast exterior was a conniving Real Housewife waiting to get out.
But I never had the opportunity to tell Annabelle that because, days after that party, they were already thick as thieves.
Taking morning runs, playing weekend tennis, planning couples getaways to the mountains.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen best friends turn out to be the worst enemy a girl can have. Never with Katie Jo and me, I thought, smiling, remembering that I needed to call her the next day.
I felt an arm around my shoulder and heard a voice say, “As lovely as you look, you must have been on the egg and grapefruit diet too.”
I looked up to see a pair of charming dimples wrapped in a gorgeous tux.
I put my finger to an exceptionally well-tied bow tie. “So you don’t have to wear the collar?”
He shrugged. “Nah. I like old school, but I’m not married to it.”
I looked across the room at Laura Anne and Annabelle, chattering away like field mice. “What do you think of her?”
He got this sort of faraway look in his eyes. “Oh, Annabelle is a miracle. She’s so . . .” He paused, looking down at me, smiling. “Honest. There’s such a purity about her heart. I don’t know what I ever did without her.”
I raised my eyebrows, wondering if he meant he didn’t know what he did without her in his office or his life. “I meant Laura Anne.”
Rob laughed that easygoing laugh of his, and I couldn’t help but think that he seemed more alive than most people. “Oh, Lynn, don’t do that to me.” He gave me a thin-lipped smile that told me exactly how he felt about her. But all he said was, “God loves all His children. We’re all in His image.”
I felt a kiss on my cheek from behind and did what can only be described as a triple take. “Hi there, little Lovey.”
“What in God’s holy name are you doing here?”
Holden shrugged, a couture tux able to make even the plainest of men suddenly look a little like Leonardo circa Titanic. He adjusted his tie. “You know I’ve always been a huge fans of the arts.”
“Uh-huh,” I grunted. “You’re a fan of something all right,” I said under my breath.
“Excuse my manners,” I said. “Father Rob, Holden. Holden, Father Rob.”
Rob was so tall Holden had to look up to him. “So, what brings you to Salisbury?” Rob asked.
Holden looked wistfully across the room at the tiny waist and flowing hair of a granddaughter that I could say without bias was a stunning sight to behold. Rob’s gaze followed Holden’s, and he said, “Dude, that’s kind of a weird way to look at your sister.”
Holden raised his lip at Rob. “Sister,” he practically spat. “Annabelle is the love of my life,” he said, at precisely the moment that Emily appeared by my side.
“Oh,” she said, patting the feather peeking out from her loose bun. “So you’re the one that gave my Ben a black eye, huh?”
Rob said, “Wait. What?”
Then, finally, Annabelle stopped laughing long enough to peek in our direction.
I’m not sure if it was the sight of Holden, or the fact that he was waxing poetic with her mother-in-law that made Annabelle turn so instantly white.
But, either way, though two men who claimed Annabelle was the love of their life were under the tent that night, I couldn’t help but notice that it was Rob who ran to her rescue.