Burning Up. Susan Andersen
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High class treasurer in the slightly plumper, ten-years-older woman standing before her.
The bank manager gave her a surprisingly friendly smile for someone Macy remembered as perpetually desperate back in the day to please Liz Picket.
Liz, who had hated Macy’s guts.
“It’s Kelly Thorensen now. Why don’t you come over to my desk and we’ll see what we can do about getting you your money.”
When they’d settled themselves across from each other, Kelly looked at her and said, “Are you in town for a while?”
“Yes. You may have heard that my cousin, Janna, was hit by a car a while back. I’m here to lend a hand until she gets back on her feet.”
“Yes, I did hear that, and I’m so sorry. The main reason I asked, though, is we can’t cash a check of this size for a noncustomer.”
And there was the knife in the ribs she’d expected upon recognizing the banker. She had to hand it to Kelly, though, the woman managed not to let her satisfaction show. She was clearly worlds more sophisticated than she’d been in high school.
But then the banker grimaced with genuine regret and said, “I truly am sorry, Macy. If you’re going to be in town for a while, though, perhaps you’d like to open a savings account with us. We still have to wait for the check to clear, but the balance will of course accrue interest from today’s date.”
“That sounds fair,” she agreed slowly. She’d run into this situation a time or two; she’d simply forgotten about them because most of her employment checks were drawn on the bank where she had her account. She blew out a breath. “I meant to take care of this before I left home, but I forgot in my rush to pack and get on the road.”
Kelly opened a form on her computer and started keying in information Macy supplied in answer to the manager’s questions. Within minutes, she’d sent it to the printer. Sitting back in her chair, she smiled at Macy. “What a glamorous life you must lead in L.A.”
“I don’t know about glamorous,” Macy replied, because mostly the work she did was work. And there was a phoniness prevalent in the industry that often wore thin. “But it’s satisfying work.” Especially now that she was in the creative end of producing music videos rather than acting in someone else’s vision of a song.
“You going to our ten-year reunion next month?”
God, no. “Oh. Wow. Has it been ten years already? A reunion, huh? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Well, you should come. It’ll be fun.”
Uh-huh. Because I had so many friends in high school. “I’ll keep it in mind, but so much depends on how well Janna’s leg improves. Did I tell you she’s starting physical therapy next week?”
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before she headed back to the car. All things considered, she thought in bemusement as she climbed in, that hadn’t gone half badly.
When she said as much to Janna a short while later, after recounting her experience, her cousin gave her a wry smile. “So maybe the good citizens of Sugarville have moved on more than you’ve given them credit for.” Then she teased, “I mean, I know you think it’s all about you—”
“You mean it’s not? What’s with that?” But she wasn’t up to kidding about this, and rubbing her forehead, she stared at her cousin. “You know, I never gave it much thought, since I was only here for a few days at a time to see you and the rest of the family. But I guess I’ve sort of been braced for the whole hornet’s nest response to my return,” she admitted soberly, “and I’m grateful as can be that Kelly was professional and gracious instead. But I doubt it’s realistic to expect that everyone will be so nice.” She shook her head. “I just wonder how not nice they’re going to be.”
Janna nodded, her expression troubled. “Yeah. That’s the million-dollar question.”
“IS THAT MACY O’JAMES?”
“I heard she was back in town.”
“She’s got some nerve showing her face after all the heartache she’s caused!”
“Hey, you know what they say. No-class white trash then, no-class white trash now.”
The voices carried clearly in the hot summer air as Macy unfolded a lawn chair under the spreading oak trees next to the bleachers and helped her cousin settle into it. “Well, I guess that answers that big-bucks question,” she murmured and made a moue of distaste. “Apparently Kelly was a fluke.”
“Oh, I imagine there’s more people like Kelly than you think.” Janna cautiously propped the heel of her cast on the plastic bucket Macy upended in front of her. “There are always going to be idiots in this town, though. So do as I do, sweetie. Ignore ’em.”
“I intend to.” Knowing better than to expect an offer from the people on the bleachers nearest Janna to make room so she could sit next to her cousin, she snapped open the blanket she’d brought along for this precise contingency and spread it on the ground on Janna’s other side. Careful to keep her knees together in deference to the shortness of her pin-striped skirt, she lowered herself upon it.
And swallowed a snort. Because wouldn’t that be just what she needed to round out this outing—to flash the young players warming up on the field? As if she didn’t have a bad enough name in this town as it was.
It would have been smarter to wear a nice conservative pair of shorts, she knew, but she was glad she hadn’t changed her clothes. For a short while, in the wake of her better-than-expected encounter with Kelly, she’d considered it. But in the end, she’d decided that a girl could simply never predict when her armor might come in handy in this town. Outrageous clothing was her armor of choice. And it was coming in handy now.
Then Janna’s words sank in, and she scooted closer to her cousin, leaning in to ask in a low voice, “What do you mean, do as you do?”
Janna shrugged. “When Sean and I divorced, I lost most of my social circle,” she answered with matter-of-fact equanimity.
Macy stared. “He screwed around on you with a barely legal bimbo and your friends took his side?”
“Except for one or two of them, they were never really my friends, anyhow. Sean is a Purcell—I married up in their eyes.”
“Are you kidding?” An incredulous laugh escaped her. “Someone actually said that?”
“Nah, it wasn’t that blatant. But the cliques in this town continue long after high school.” She gave an impatient shake of her head. “No. That makes it sound like it’s a Sugarville thing, and it’s not. This sort of social maneuvering goes on everywhere. Everyone was friendly while Sean and I were married—and a few of them I’ve remained friends with. But for the most part, when he dumped me, so did the group we socialized with.”
Macy blew out a quiet breath. “I’m sorry, Janny. That must have been rough.”
Janna shrugged again. “Shit happens. You know that better than most.”
“She’s wearing a damn dog collar,” a woman on the bleachers said loudly. “I’ve never seen anything so stupid.”
Twisting around, Macy located the speaker and gave her a slow appraisal. “Interesting fashion criticism, sugar, coming from a woman who wears burgundy lip liner with pink lipstick.”
Angry color scalded the woman’s cheeks. “Bitch.”
“Yes. I am. Hence the collar.”
She heard a muffled laugh and turned back around. Charlie’s mother, Shannon, stood nearby with another woman, but if the snicker she’d heard came from either of them she saw no evidence of it now.
“Hey, ladies.” Shannon greeted them with easy cheer, flashing the ready smile Macy had noticed when she’d dropped the