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

in front of Lavonne, filling each with the pale-pink liquid. “Cheers,” she said, handing a glass to Lavonne.
    “Damn, that's good,” Lavonne said, sipping. “Where'd you get the shaker?”
    “I brought it from home.”
    “What does that say about you, Eadie, that you travel with your own martini shaker?”
    Eadie sipped her drink. “It says I like the ritual of cocktail hour. I like everything about it, the funny little glasses, the gleaming metal shaker, the routine of drinking at the same time every day. Cocktail hour is a holdover from our parents' generation. Why did we ever give it up?”
    “Our generation had drugs. We didn't need martinis.”
    “True.” Eadie put her drink down and went over to the pot to stir the jambalaya. “I called Nita. She's coming over for dinner. She made me promise this wasn't some crazy ploy to give her a bachelorette party, but I told her it was just you and me.”
    “And she agreed to come? Silly girl. Quick, let's call some strippers.”
    Eadie put the lid on the pot and turned around. “She sounds like she needs a night out. Don't you two see much of each other anymore?” She leaned against the stove with one arm draped across her stomach and the other one holding her drink.
    “Not really.” Lavonne sipped her martini. “I hate to say it, on account of you getting a big head and all, but it's not the same since you left town.”
    Eadie colored slightly. She smiled. “Well, we'll have to make up for lost time,” she said.
    The timer went off and Eadie took the rice off the heat and stuck a loaf of French bread into the oven. Lavonne watched her work, feeling lazy and relaxed. The vodka had gone straight to her brain and she had a nice buzz going. “Are you sure you don't need any help?” she said to Eadie.
    “Nope.” Eadie took the top off the shaker and poured them both another drink. The buzzing in Lavonne's head got louder. “Oh hell, that's my cell phone,” Eadie said, putting the shaker down. “It's probably Trevor. I'llbe right back.” She rushed out of the room and Lavonne could hear her a minute later in Louise's room. “Are you going to call me every hour?” she said, and Lavonne got up to turn on the radio so she wouldn't have to hear the whole conversation. The house was small and the ceilings were high so sound carried.
    Winston came through the door wagging his tail slowly and Lavonne leaned down to scratch his ears. “So there you are, you lazy good for nothing,” she said fondly. He whined and grinned up at her and she went to the door to let him out. Eadie was still on the phone and Lavonne sat back down at the counter to wait. It was true what she had said about Nita; they rarely saw each other these days. You would think, in a town as small as Ithaca, that they might run into each other occasionally, but both had busy and very different lives. They had once been neighbors who saw each other practically every day, but even then it had been Eadie who had brought them all together. She was the glue that had kept their friendship intact.
    Lavonne lifted the metal shaker and poured herself another drink. On the radio, Van Morrison sang his ode to brown-eyed girls. Lavonne sipped her drink and thought about all the years she had known Eadie Boone.
Twenty years
. Their friendship had lasted longer than most marriages, almost as long as her ill-fated marriage to Leonard Zibolsky.
    In the back bedroom, Eadie shouted, “Don't be such an asshole, Trevor.”
    Lavonne had met Eadie and Trevor Boone soon after she and Leonard moved to Ithaca from Cleveland. It was at a party at the Boone mansion, and Eadie was standing on a table singing the Georgia fight song. Trevor was trying to convince her to climb down, but he was laughing, too, and looking at Eadie like she was the only girl in the world for him. They were two of the best-looking people Lavonne had ever seen.
    Eadie lost no time introducing herself. “Hey,” she said. “Don't drink that