Wednesday's Word: Style. An Excerpt from Telling Tales

 Welcome to Wednesdays where I share a snippet from one of my stories using the previous day's word from the New York Times' game. WORDLE. Yesterday's WORDLE was STYLE. 

Here's an excerpt from Telling Tales, a book I co-wrote with Gretchen Howard, aka Greta Boris. I wrote Candace's scenes and Greta wrote Mara's. This excerpt includes a bit of both. (This scene is one of my favorites.)

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Two weeks later, with her two oldest children in tow, Candace headed for the garden party. A light mist filled the morning air, but the sun made a valiant attempt at breaking through the clouds. Candace was grateful for the wispy haze. It would keep things from getting too warm and uncomfortable. 

Sliding a glance at Jason, she hoped the same could be said for him. Of course, she knew why he’d volunteered to come. It was another excuse to see Zoe. She’d had to bribe Savannah. In any case, she was glad they were with her. They made her feel surer of herself. She wished Andres had agreed to help. She could really have used his brawn to move tables and chairs, but he had Lily’s soccer game to coach.

She pulled the Rover into Graul’s lot and frowned at the bags of fertilizer stacked near the entrance. Would it be too much to ask for them to be moved? Probably. A couple of potted plants near the entrance would improve things, but she didn’t think she’d get anywhere with that request either. 

To her relief, she saw Trudy Miller and Mark Gibbs were already hard at work. Then Jane pulled up in her Jeep and parked beside her. Candace climbed from the car and opened the Rover’s hatch.

“Savannah, can you help me carry in these boxes? Jason, go see if you can help Pastor Gibbs and Mrs. Miller.”

Jason jogged away. Savannah looked bored and picked up a box filled with tablecloths. 

“Those are heavy, sweetie,” Candace said. “Are you sure you can handle all of them?”

Savannah grunted her assertion and trudged for the building. “You know he came to see Zoe, right?”

“We can’t stop him from seeing her,” Candace said.

“But we shouldn’t make it easy for him,” Savannah said.

“You don’t like her?” Candace asked.

“Do you?” Savannah shot back.

Candace opened her mouth to say she didn’t know her well enough to like or dislike her, but before she could say the words, Jane interrupted them.

“You brought the hired guns.” Jane looked cute in a shapeless jumper-style dress that reminded Candace of a grocery sack. How did Jane manage to look charming in everything? She could wear a tarp and still be stylish. Candace had chosen to wear her favorite floral sundress with matching green suede shoes. Next to Jane, she felt overdressed and Stepford wife-ish.

“Jason came willingly,” Candace said, “but Savannah had to be bribed with a trip to the mall.”

“They’re good kids,” Jane said.

“I know.” Candace’s heart warmed with gratitude and love as she watched her two oldest disappear behind Graul’s gates.

“This place could be so pretty,” Jane said.

“I think so, too. A little sprucing up would make a big difference.”

Inside the gates, Mark and Trudy were setting up the tables and chairs. Jason had disappeared, and Zoe was nowhere to be seen. 

Mara and a hungry-looking woman wearing a knitted beanie scurried behind the sales counter. They appeared too busy to help.

Candace noted Mara’s sour-pickle face and her ugly green Graul’s apron. Why had Gabe married her? He was such a nice man. He deserved better. Mara did have a natural beauty and a horse-jockey figure some people found attractive, but the constant look of dissatisfaction on her face spoiled her features.

After Savannah deposited the tablecloths on the closest table, Candace told her, “Go find your brother. He needs to help Mark set up chairs.”

Savannah shrugged and acted indifferent, but Candace knew her daughter liked being her brother’s sheepdog. Savannah had always been a tattletale. She delighted in toeing the line and making sure her siblings did the same. Candace understood. She’d been like that as a child herself. While Savannah went on a Jason-finding expedition, Candace spread the tablecloths. She’d barely finished putting potted flowers in the center of the twelve circular tables when Mara and Tilly appeared.

The cranky wrinkle on Mara’s forehead deepened. “Those azaleas will die in the sun. You need to keep them in the shade.”

Why did everything seem like a competition with Mara? “It’s only for a couple of hours.” Candace used her I’m the mom and I know best tone.

“In the heat of the day,” the woman in the beanie shot back.

Candace took note of the name Tilly emblazoned on her hideous green apron. If Candace owned this place, she’d replace the aprons—and the staff.

“I would hardly call 11:00 a.m. the heat of the day,” Candace said. “Besides, we’re in the mountains. It’s March. The only heat around here this time of year comes from a furnace.”

“Not getting any at home?” Tilly laughed at her own joke.

“One of the frozen chosen,” Mara said and stomped off toward the office. She reappeared moments later with Zoe and Jason.

The three of them began to remove the centerpiece flowers.

Candace balled her fists and planted them on her hips. “This is ridiculous. If you insist, I’ll purchase the azaleas.”

“That’s not necessary.” Mara refused to look Candace in the eye. She plucked the flower pots off the tables and placed them on a shelf beneath a hanging canopy. “Choose a different plant for the centerpieces.”

“I like those.” Candace rescued a plant from the shelf.

Mara looked as if she wanted to wrestle over the plants. “They’ll die.”

Honestly, Mara made it sound as if Candace were shooting puppies.

“How about tea roses?” Tilly said. “They’re hardy.”

Candace tried to squelch her rising anger. “I don’t want roses. I want azaleas.”

“Mara, Tilly,” Paul’s voice came from the office, “come here.”

Biting back a smile, Candace began replacing azaleas and nodded at Jason and Savannah to do the same. Zoe followed Mara and Tilly into the office and slammed the door.

“I don’t know why you like her,” Savannah said to Jason in a hushed voice. “You know the things she’s saying about you, right?”

Candace listened in on their conversation as she bustled around the tables.

“She’s not the one spreading the rumors,” Jason said.

“How do you know?” Savannah asked. “Everything is being posted on everyone’s phones.”

“What’s this?” Candace’s voice cracked. She pretended to be interested in the flower centerpieces.

“She’s anonymously,” Savannah used her fingers to make air quotes around the word, “sending the rumor to everyone’s phone via Insta-Chat.”

Insta-Chat. Could Zoe be the one sending Candace pictures? But she was in them, it made no sense. “What rumor?”

“I think I know her better than you do.” Jason spit the words at his sister.

“She’s evil,” Savannah said.

Jason gave his sister a hard stare.

“What rumor?” Candace repeated. 

“Mom, she’s telling everyone Jason got her drunk so he could mess around with her.”

Candace stopped short, azalea in hand, and looked at Jason. “That’s date rape. Why would she say that?” Zoe’s terrified face from the most recent disappearing photo flashed through her mind.

“She didn’t,” Jason said in a hard voice.

Candace turned to Savannah. “Did you actually hear her say those things?” 

“No,” Savannah hedged, “but Courtney did.”

“And you believe everything Courtney says?” Jason asked. “Remember when you slept over, and she said her house was haunted? Or, the time she said she had cancer in her knee because she didn’t want to dress out for gym?”

Savannah glared at her brother.

“Okay, guys.” Candace gazed around to see if any of the adults present had overheard them. She didn’t want this rumor to spread any further. Date rape was a serious accusation, and absolutely, positively, untrue. “I think the tables look pretty, don’t you?” she said, her tone falsely cheerful.

Jason shrugged. Savannah looked at the sky.

Candace would have to deal with this later, after the party. There was too much to do. Two of the long rectangular serving tables were framed by potted fruit trees, but the other two tables had been set up near stacks of fertilizer bags. “We’ll need to move those tables.”

“Where’d Mark go?” Jason asked.

Where had they gone? As soon as she needed them, people disappeared like the messages on her phone. Candace sighed and rolled her shoulders.

“Come on, it’ll only take a second.” Candace strode across the yard and grabbed one end of the table while Jason and Savannah took hold of the other. She walked backward and maneuvered through the maze of furniture, then repositioned the serving table near the gallon-sized potted roses. They did the same with the other table. 

Mara emerged from behind a lattice screen. “You can’t put those there.”

Speaking of disappearing, why wouldn’t Mara? “Well, we can’t serve the food next to the fertilizer.”

For a moment, Mara looked like she was going to argue, but she eased out of the way, shrugged her shoulders, and stomped off.

Jane, Trudy, and Mark walked in, each carrying towers of boxes from Clyne’s Bakery.

“Wow, this place looks amazing,” Trudy said as she deposited her load on the table.

“Doesn’t it?” Savannah acted as if she’d been personally responsible for the nursery’s transformation.

“Your mom is so talented,” Trudy gushed. “She makes everything beautiful.” Trudy pinched Savannah’s cheek. “You, my sweetie, are a case in point.”

Savannah blushed and ducked away.

Mark unloaded his box of serving dishes. “Tell me what goes where.”

“The platters are for tea sandwiches. The tiered plates are for cookies and pastries.” Candace fussed over the tables. “We want people to move in a straight line, dishes and silverware at this end. The punch bowl, water vases and cups on that end.”

Mark began to pile the sandwiches on a platter haphazardly.

Savannah bumped him out of the way with her hip. “‘Scuse me, Pastor Mark. Wash your hands before you touch the food, or you’ll have to deal with my mother.” 

“What about you?” Mark asked

An uncomfortable itch crawled down Candace’s spine as she watched Mark and Savannah’s interaction. What was bothering her? A sudden memory of Zoe climbing into Mark’s van hit her. Youth pastors have to be tech-savvy, plus Mark, an amateur photographer, had an expensive camera. Why would Mark take the pictures, send them to her, or start rumors? She took a breath and shook the thoughts away. Mark was a good guy. Great with the youth.

Savannah reached into her pocket and pulled out a squirt bottle of hand sanitizer. “Done.” She began arranging sandwiches. When she was finished, the platter resembled a work of art.

“She’s your daughter,” Jane whispered in Candace’s ear.

“Mark,” Trudy said, “why don’t you fill up the water pitchers?”

Mark didn’t look happy about being bossed around by the women of the church, but collected the pitchers and headed inside.

“Do you think it’s okay to drink tap water?” Savannah asked.

“Sure,” Jane said. “I brought lemon slices and raspberries. It’ll be pretty.”

“That’s the important thing,” Tilly muttered.

Why was she hanging around if she wasn’t going to help? Candace still smarted from the ‘not getting any’ comment. Really, her sex life wasn’t up for discussion. Jason sidled up to her and began piling macarons into a pyramid. His sex life—or lack thereof—wasn’t up for discussion either. 

Candace leaned toward him. “You need to let Zoe go.” 

“We’re just friends. We broke up a while ago.” 

That could be the reason behind the rumors. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, or in this case a girl. “Good, but I’d keep your distance.” The panties flashed in her mind. “I think she’s trouble, Jason. You heard what Savannah said—”

His face hardened. “Savannah can’t keep her mouth shut.”

A feeling of protectiveness for both her children flared so suddenly and hotly, Candace said, “And, Zoe is a liar.” She wished she could withdraw the statement as soon as it came out of her mouth. It was possible that Zoe was a victim, but not Jason’s victim.

“Candace,” Trudy called. “Can you help me arrange the sandwiches? You make everything look beautiful.”

Candace went to help Trudy and, for the moment, put the teenage drama from her mind.

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

At 9:55, Mara walked toward the table where Candace and her son were arranging macarons into rainbow colored layers. Trevor was watching them with interest. Tilly’s sitter had fallen through at the last minute, so she’d had to bring him even though Paul had asked her not to. Mara and Tilly were attempting to hide the boy by the checkout counter, but here he was hovering in plain sight on the perimeter of the food tables. “Hey, Trev,” she said. 

“Hey, Mar,” he said. 

“I think your Mom is looking for you.”

“Okay, Mar.” After one last longing look at the cookies, Trevor ambled away.

Mara opened her mouth to warn Candace about the table placement one more time. She’d begun to feel guilty for not trying harder. She needed to say something. 

And, she was going to. 

She was.

But as she drew closer, she heard Zoe’s name, and curiosity got the better of her. She had at least five or six minutes. Plenty of time to eavesdrop.

She passed them, picked up a hose and began watering the roses.

“You need to let Zoe go,” Candace said.

“We’re just friends. We’re not dating anymore.”

“I don’t think you should see her at all, not as friends, not as anything. She’s trouble, Jason. You heard what Savannah said—”

“Savannah can’t keep her mouth shut.” 

“And Zoe is a liar.” Candace spit the words. Her cheeks became an angry red. 

Mara’s cheeks reddened, too. The doctor had confirmed what Zoe’s home pregnancy test had already told her. It was early days, but the girl was pregnant. She hadn’t divulged the father’s name, but now Mara knew. Jason had to be the father, and nobody in his family would accept it. Why did that sound familiar?

She wandered to the end of the row of trees, turned off the hose, wrapped it up and walked away. Candace needed to cool down. Mara walked across the yard, leaned against some lattice work and waited. 

At 10:05 the sprinkler erupted like Mount Vesuvius. A fire hose of water shot into the sky, arched, and came down directly on Candace’s head. Mara couldn’t have planned it better. 

She’d been after Paul to fix it for the past week, but he’d never gotten around to it. At 10:05 last Sunday the sprinkler head had shot off when the water went on, and there’d been a geyser at the same time every day since. 

“Oh. Oh. Shhhhugar.” Candace’s hands flew to her wet, flat hair.

Mara covered a smile with one hand. She’d tried to warn Candace. She’d told her not to put the food table in that spot, but in typical know-it-all fashion, Candace hadn’t listened. Hadn’t even given Mara a chance to explain. She’d batted her eyelashes at Paul. He’d puffed up his chest and insisted she get her way. Well, she got it.

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