Chapter 37 KELSEY AND THE QUEEN OF GLASS
Chapter 37
K ELSEY AND THE Q UEEN OF G LASS
The final event of the tree farm’s summer Christmas is the tea.
I wake up to the downstairs buzzing with voices. Right, we were warned when we checked in that this would be a busy day. We agreed to it.
The bathroom is in the hall, and I wish I’d known what time people would start arriving so I could have been ready ahead of them. I’m deathly afraid of Randy’s mom or sister or any of the women I’ve met spotting me looking like something the cat dragged in.
Once I get across the hall, I better not leave the bathroom until I’m summer fresh.
I gather the nicest dress I brought on the trip, a silvery sheath that is the closest to my Hollywood style. It was one of my very best finds at a sample sale, and is worth several thousand dollars.
But its elegance is in its simplicity. I feel certain that half the women coming to the tea will think they could have sewn something like it themselves.
I pick up my hair supplies and cosmetic bag and ease the door open.
When I peer into the hall, I spot Zachery’s shaggy head also leaning out of his room. He sees me, and we both laugh.
“I guess the tea brigade has landed,” he says.
“And so early. It’s seven a.m. and the tea isn’t until lunchtime!”
He shakes his head. “I’ll keep myself scarce.”
I sneak across the hall, dashing to the bathroom when I hear a voice that might be someone coming up the stairs. I’m literally panting as I lock the door.
This is wild. I’ve gone to Hollywood parties and walked straight up to famous directors, A-list actors, and all variety of intimidating people.
But this Christmas tea has got me sweating.
Grandmama will be there, for one thing. It’ll be the first time we meet. Her approval is apparently essential. Two of the girls Jack dated got the boot based on her opinion.
According to Gina, Randy has never introduced anyone to her. But Grandmama has been giving him hell that she’s going to die before he gets a wife, so he asked me last night, during our one slow dance, if I’d be up for meeting her even though we haven’t known each other long.
After two cups of wine that probably equaled a bottle, I agreed.
But now I’m questioning everything.
The speed of this courtship.
How much I really know Randy.
The water runs cold. I never got around to asking anyone about the water heater and got used to it. And for some reason, it’s at this moment that I realize I’ve completely dropped the ball on work all week.
Zachery has done all my research, drafted all my emails. Since Thursday, when we got busy for the weekend events, I haven’t even read them over. I’ve just hit send.
Maybe it’ll slow down after the summer events are done.
I blow-dry my hair and curl the ends. I allow myself a smidge of sparkle in my makeup. Just enough to be festive, but not so much that I draw attention to it. Last night, I saw the line drawn between the practical women of Glass and the ones who put a lot of time and effort into their appearance.
There weren’t a lot of the latter, and they seemed separate somehow, as if worrying about something as useless as looks makes you untrustworthy.
I don’t like it, but small towns can be that way. Mine was.
Even with the divide, no one was unpleasant about it, at least not in front of me. This is unlike Hollywood, where getting catty about someone’s physical appearance is a cherished pastime.
This is better. Everything here is better, other than the cold showers.
If I stay here much longer, I’ll ask Randy to fix it. He and Jack and their dad can manage just about anything, from running electrical to rerouting a drain. The tree farm requires a lot of upkeep, even if there aren’t any animals.
And that’s the best part. Farm life without all the cows. Just a pair of horses and a passel of dogs.
When I proclaim myself ready to face the ladies downstairs, I move all my products and even my damp towel to my room in case this bathroom needs to be used by guests of the tea.
I’ll remind Zachery to do the same, although as I do one more bathroom check before heading down, I bend over to sniff his ungodly wonderful soaps.
Heaven.
I knock on his door. He peeks out, running his hand through his hair. He’s visibly relieved that it’s me. “Oh, hey, Kelsey.”
“I’m thinking the bathroom downstairs might not be enough for the tea. You might want to move your things or else entrance half the county with the siren call of your fancy soaps.”
He laughs. “Will do.” He opens the door a little wider. “You’re looking more California today.”
My body heats up as he takes me in. For a moment, I revel in it, letting him fill me with self-confidence. Then his eyes meet mine, and I want to sink into him. Will this feeling never go away?
Focus, Kelsey. Don’t let the charmer ensnare you, today of all days.
I give him a silly curtsy. “Do you like it, kind sir? I’m seeking the approval of the queen.” There’s a waver in my last word. I have to pull it together.
Zachery doesn’t seem to notice. His chuckle is low and deep. “The all-powerful grandmama. Good luck.”
I straighten, trying to keep my wayward emotions under wraps. “Thank you. Will you come down for the tea?”
“Hell no. My understanding from last night is that no man with a pair of balls in his possession will step foot at the homestead during teatime. Their words, not mine.”
“Okay, well, text me if you need me to sneak you a tea cake.”
He nods. “Have a good time.”
When he disappears into his room, I take a moment to compose myself. Of course you get mesmerized, Kelsey. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever met. He can charm the girdle off a grandma. It’s okay. You’re okay.
I take the stairs slowly, trying to get a feel for what I’m about to walk into.
Gina is downstairs, and my chest loosens as I see her also wearing a nice skirt and blouse. I made the right call to dress up.
She turns to me. “Good morning, Kelsey. Sorry we barged in so early. The teas have to steep and the deliveries start arriving at nine. Mom wanted all the tablecloths prepped.” She lifts the arm of a steamer and puffs out a hot cloud.
“I can help with that.”
She shakes her head. “You’re wanted in the library.”
I freeze. “Grandmama?” I whisper.
She nods. “Break a leg.”
I smooth my dress, more or less glad we’re getting this over with while I’m fresh. I haven’t spilled anything on myself yet.
I can do this. I once walked up to Robert De Niro to ask about a role. Now that was intimidating.
How hard can a grandmother be?
The library is a small room compared to the others. The two side walls are filled with bookshelves, although not a single title seems to have been published after 1985. There are framed family photos sprinkled throughout the shelves, along with odds and ends that look to have been picked up on vacations.
There’s a window on the back wall and, beneath it, an old-fashioned round-backed red velvet sofa. An oval coffee table holds a silver tea set on a shiny tray, along with a fresh bouquet of red and white flowers.
Grandmama sits tall and stiff in the center of the sofa, holding a cup and saucer in both hands like she’s posing for a painting. She wears a shiny green dress with long sleeves and a high neck. Her hair is a puff of silver. Behind her, the woods are thick and lovely through the window.
She watches me enter with eyes dusted lightly with gray shadow. I feel like I’ve entered a throne room and should curtsy, but instead I take a seat on a high-backed wood chair to the left of the coffee table.
Should I wait to speak until spoken to, or does that make me a ninny?
I cross my feet at the ankles and arrange my hands on my lap. “Hello, Grandmama. I’m Kelsey Whitaker, a friend of Randy’s.”
She rests her saucer on her knee. “It’s about time that boy settled down.”
Is it? I realize I know very little about Randy’s dating life, or his past at all, other than his football statistics. We’ve spent most of our hours together for six days, but they’ve been practical, mostly decorating and organizing and running errands. We’ve had one lunch, one dinner, and a hayride where we’ve been alone.
That’s not much to go on, even though it already feels like I’ve been part of the family a long time.
I realize I might ought to be saying something. “He’s a nice boy. You all raised him well.”
Grandmama’s eyes narrow, but she catches herself and takes a sip of tea. “I hear you’ve been a big help to everyone, even if you did drink excessively last night at the dance.”
I guess nothing gets by this woman. “I’m not used to the deep pours of Glass.”
She harrumphs a short laugh, and I think this is a good sign, but then she goes on. “I hear you’re staying at the homestead with another man.”
That probably is a bigger deal. “We’ve worked together for years.”
“Why did you come to Glass for your work? Are you a journalist? Trying to get to know the locals?”
“No. I—well, I like to learn about communities. That’s true. But I’m not a writer or a journalist.”
“Then what is it exactly that you and this man do?”
I have a feeling my vague explanations from the last few days, that we file reports and do research, won’t work on Grandmama.
“We work in the movie business.”
This gets her attention. “In what capacity?”
“We help connect the actors with the roles that are best suited for them. We research past projects and keep a database of headshots and résumés. We don’t generally put the leads in place, as they’re often attached as part of the package that goes to producers to secure funding, but all the supporting roles, the bit parts, and the extras are chosen by us to be approved by the director.”
“How interesting. And you can do this from anywhere?”
“Sure. Most auditions are done via self-tape now. When a director asks for a certain type of role to be filled, say a young mother down on her luck, in her thirties, maybe a certain ethnic profile, I find someone who fits the part.”
She leans forward. “Are there roles for grumpy old women?”
This is something you can almost never escape. I think most everyone, somewhere deep inside, once had a passing dream of being a movie star. “Sometimes, there are.”
She sets down her cup and leans back. “This is the most interesting thing to ever happen in Glass. Hollywood, right here at the homestead!”
This is going far better than I thought. I’m already racking my brain for any projects where I can get her on the set as an extra. I’d have to get her in the system. She’d have to travel. It might be best if I used my home address for her.
“Kelsey, what are your intentions here? Gina tells me that your booking ended yesterday.”
“That was because of the tea. This day was blocked off, but we were happy to stay. I’ll make sure Gina gets us back in the system so we pay properly.”
Grandmama waves her hand at that. “No, I mean when are you leaving? I’m sure a week isn’t long enough to leave my grandson with a broken heart, but will that happen? You toy with a young man in that designer dress and then head back to your real life?”
I glance down at the shimmery Givenchy.
“Did you think an old lady from a rural town wouldn’t recognize a high-end dress when she saw it?”
“No, I—”
“Is it amusing to be around the simple folk with your high-and-mighty Beverly Hills audacity?”
I recognize a hole when I’m in it. I maintain my upright pose, hands in my lap.
Grandmama doesn’t relent. “Can you explain yourself?”
I can only reach for the truth. “I tried dating in the city, and the men are too ... too everything. I wanted to find someone more authentic.”
Grandmama sits back against the sofa. “Oh. I see. And do you think you’ve found it in Randy?”
“Maybe. It seems good so far. Ask me in a month?”
“And will you be here in a month?”
“I hope so.”
She clasps her wrinkled fingers, adorned with several large gemstone rings, in her satiny lap. “All right, then. Do check in with me each Sunday and let me know how things are going. Randy is not used to girls like you. He might be a mite gauche. Allow me to direct him when he goes awry. I have some pull with my boys. And tell him to fix the blasted water heater. It goes out every summer. I’m surprised you haven’t complained about the cold. It shows some grit.”
She picks up her teacup for a sip, grimaces, and sets it back down. “Go find my daughter-in-law and tell her to make the tea stronger. It’s like drinking warm sugar water.”
I stand up. “I will. Thank you, Grandmama. Nice meeting you, Grandmama.”
She waves me on and I get the heck out of Dodge.
I know to quit when I’m ahead.