The Bandbox Hat
Previously: During a group bowling date, Austin tells SarahJane
that his mother was a child actress with a hit show twenty-five years ago. No
one else on the show has recognized her. SarahJane spends a few minutes alone
with Linda, trying to figure out to find out if it’s true before deciding it’s
not important to what’s happening on the current show.
Chapter Forty-Three
Cassie chattered in the car on the way back to the
mansion. Amanda glowered at her the whole way. I couldn’t forget Austin’s
warning not to forget that his mother was an actress and a good one. What was
he trying to tell me?
The car stopped in the driveway
and we tumbled out like copper pennies from a new roll.
“Two hours until the charm
ceremony.” One of the production assistants hollered every minute or so as we
filed into the house. As if we could forget.
It took me about forty-five
minutes to shower, dress and do my hair and makeup. Cassie was right behind me
as we headed back downstairs. The upper level was eerily quiet as the others
were all deep into their beauty rituals. Plus our numbers were now about half
of what they had been.
Cassie and I grabbed a bottle of
water before wandering out to the pool and settling in lounge chairs. I kicked
off my strappy sandals and settled in.
Nathan and Austin came around the
corner of the house deep in conversation, followed by a cameraman and one of
the production assistants. They glanced at us and changed directions toward us.
“Eager for the next girls to be
eliminated?” Nathan nudged the bottom of my foot with his boot tip.
I kicked back at him. “I can’t
wait for the next addition to my charm bracelet, Mr. Smarty Pants.”
Austin sat on the side of my
lounge. “Where’s everyone else?”
Cassie scooted the side of her
chair, making room for Nathan who perched next to her. “We’re probably too low
maintenance for a show like this. We get ready too quick. I feel like a kid on
Easter Sunday who was told to wait for the rest of the family outside before we
go to church. I’m just itching to do something that’s going to turn out to be a
bad idea.”
Nathan laughed. “Is that part
memory and part current urge?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind
an ear. “Maybe. But if it ever comes up, I know nothing about anyone making mud
pies Easter Sunday 1992.”
“Why not make mud pies? We’ve got
time to kill.” Austin stood and reached a hand toward me.
Allowing myself to be pulled to my
feet, I felt a frisson of excitement ignite along my spine. “I hope the mud is
metaphorical.”
“Let’s go find something to eat.
I’m starving.” Nathan tugged on his waistband. “See? I’m wasting away. They
don’t feed me enough.”
“You’re used to eating like a farm
hand,” I said. “Normal people survive on three meals a day.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Cassie stuck her arm through
Nathan’s. “I could eat. Let’s see what’s in the kitchen.”
Inside, Austin stepped into the
pantry and surveyed the shelves. “Chips and dip. Canned chili.”
I opened the fridge. “Celery and
carrots, salsa, some cheddar cheese.”
“Nachos!” Cassie pulled a cookie
sheet from the cupboard. “Austin, you grate the cheese. SarahJane, put the
chips on the baking sheet.
With Cassie as executive chef, the
rest of us did our assignments and in fifteen minutes we bellied up to the
granite island and grabbed chips loaded with cheese, salsa, and chopped
veggies.
“These are amazing,” Nathan said. “You
can cook for me anytime.”
I elbowed him. “That’s not the
compliment you think it is, Nathan. Cassie, he’s been known to eat leftovers a
week after their expiration date.”
She smiled at my brother. “Just
let me know if you’re not getting enough to eat. I’ll find you something.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. He’ll
be following you around like a lost calf.”
“I am a lost calf.” Nathan popped
another chip in his mouth and grinned. “I’m away from my herd and I don’t know
what to do.”
Austin met my gaze and grinned. “You
Richters have some funny sayings.”
Nathan and I shrugged in unison
but I spoke first. “We’re from the middle of the state. We farm. There’s cattle
death row not far away. We’re Mennonite. Take your pick.”
A murmur of voices from the other
room reached up.
“Eat up,” Cassie said. “We’re
about to be invaded.”
From what I can tell, the books are loosely related (crossover characters) but do not need to be read in order. Come on, they’re romances. As I read book one, I knew which character would be the protagonist of book two. Book three featured him and his wife in supporting roles. Because this is romantic suspense, you can be sure the hero and heroine are going to end up together, so skipping book two didn’t “ruin” anything for me. If book two crosses my path, I’ll read it. Anyhoo…
