Secret Lives of the Kudzu Debutantes by Cathy Holton Read Free Book Online

eating dinner in the formal dining room every evening. She was trying to set a standard. She was attempting to entice Redmon into leaving his Alabama hog-farm roots behind him, and if enticement didn't work she was determined to drag him kicking and screaming into the realm of good breeding and good taste. She was determined to overcome his penchant for gold-plated fixtures and expensive, but tasteless, furnishings, and the first thing to go, she decided savagely, would be the Elvis Red carpet.
    What was it Oscar Wilde had said on his deathbed, looking at the room's gaudy wallpaper?
One of us will have to go
. That was pretty much the way Virginia felt about the red carpet. That was pretty much the way Virginia felt about her whole damn marriage.
    Redmon finished his meal, belched, and pushed himself away from the table, rubbing his big round belly with both hands. “Well, Queenie, what's it to be tonight? The Cheerleader and the Coach? The Naughty Secretary and the Boss? The French Maid and the Millionaire?”
    Virginia thought she heard Della snort in the kitchen. “Not tonight, I have a headache,” she said.
    “You had a headache last night,” Redmon said, standing up from the table.
    “I really need to see a doctor about these migraines,” Virginia said, putting her hand over her eyes and watching his big, booted feet cross the red carpet toward her.
    “I know just the thing for migraines,” he said in her ear, leaning down to kiss her. She turned her face to give him her cheek but he was wiseto that move, and swiveled his head around, clamping his mouth over hers.
    She pushed him away with both hands, standing up so quickly her faux zebra chair nearly toppled over.
    He grinned in that particularly juvenile way men have when they are trying to convince an unwilling woman. “It's your turn to decide, Queenie,” he said slapping her on the bottom. “But if you don't, I will!”
    “What about your heart?”
    “What about it?” he said.
    “Do you really think the exertion would be good for you?” she said, looking around desperately. “So soon after a big meal?”
    “You let me worry about my heart,” he said, slapping her again on the rear end. “What's it to be, Queenie?”
    “Oh, all right,” she snapped. “How about the Naughty Schoolboy and the Schoolteacher?” She said it half in jest but his eyes got round and a spot of pink appeared on both cheeks.
    He lowered his voice and said earnestly, “Will you spank me in front of the whole class, Teacher?”
    “Oh, good God,” she said, but he had already grabbed her hand and was pulling her toward the bedroom door.

L AVONNE PICKED E ADIE UP AT THE AIRPORT ON W EDNESDAY evening and they stopped just south of Atlanta for dinner. Eadie seemed restless and quiet, like she had something on her mind but didn't want to talk about it. Lavonne had known her long enough to know that it was no good pushing her; Eadie would talk when she was ready.
    They went to bed early, and when Lavonne got home from work the next day, Eadie was standing in the kitchen holding a metal cocktail shaker. Something that smelled wonderful bubbled in the pot on the stove behind her.
    “What are you making?” Lavonne said, lifting the lid.
    “Jambalaya. I learned to make it in New Orleans. It's all I know how to cook.” Eadie looked better than she had the night before, more rested and less somber. She was wearing a pair of corduroy jeans and a V-necked sweater that showed off her good figure to full advantage. Her feet were bare.
    Lavonne said, “How come you're addicted to Mondo Logs and you still look like that?”
    Eadie grinned. “Look who's talking,” she said. “Sit your skinny ass down at the bar and I'll pour you a drink.”
    Lavonne sat down. “What are we having?”
    Eadie flourished the shaker like a Japanese hibachi chef wielding a Hiromoto knife. “Pomegranate martinis.” She took two frosted martini glasses out of the freezer and sat them on the counter