"Yes," I replied. "My mom's from here. I've lived here my entirelife."
"Oh?" She smiled. "What's your mother's name, dear, perhaps I've mether?"
I froze. “Oh… um... no, you probably haven't," I said quickly. "She's been very ill for most of her life." I winced at the white lie. This was Marv's mom and I wanted to make a good impression. I didn't want to lie to her, but as I glanced over my shoulder at the manor and then at the elegant garden and tea set we were using, I didn't see how I could tell her that my mom was a woman from poverty, living off of my new income – or what income I supposed I would be making soon – anddisability.
"Oh my, is it serious?" I couldn't tell if Mrs. Carter had perfected the act of caring when she didn't or if she was truly concerned. Her curiosity was mixed with worry that looked neither too obvious noroverstated.
"Cancer," Ireplied.
"How dreadful," she said with a delicate hand going to her heart. "Mycondolences."
I stiffened, but nodded my head anyway, accepting them. I always hated when people said that. It felt like they were already condemning mymom.
"So," Marv interrupted the awkward silence by clearing his throat, "I hear that you're trying to send Quinn to etiquettecamp."
Mrs. Carter turned toward her son and sipped the rest of her champagne. "Yes," she said after a beat. "Iwasconsidering it, but now I'm notsure."
"Finally realized Quinn would rather be out riding horses or following squirrels into woods?" He grinned ather.
Mrs. Carter didn't reply to the teasing. Instead, she furrowed her brow and reached for a tea cup. "I understand that your sister is a bit of a free spirit, but that's not why I've been considering pulling her from thecamp."
"Oh?" Marv leaned forward as I stared between the two of them, the confused concern on her featuresevident.
"There have been certain rumors about the coordinator, Julia Enders. They haven't been flattering. I thought it best to pull Quinn out and set her up with something here, inCharleston."
"What kind of rumors?" I found myselfasking.
Mrs. Carter flicked her gaze to me and for a moment, I worried that I had overstepped my boundaries, but she simply smiled and returned her teacup to thetable.
"Well, it's just that a few girls that have attended Ms. Enders’ etiquette camp have turned out rather...well..." Mrs. Carter's frown deepened and she sighed. "It just seems that good, decent, girls go to the camp and come back with some sort ofissue."
"What kind of issues?" Marv asked. A similar furrow between his brows started toform.
Mrs. Carter shook her head. "It's never right away, of course," she said. "But Carly – Robert's daughter, you know her, Marv – she went last summer and after a few months the girl was disappearing at all hours of the night. She and a few other girls were caught doing all manner of things young girls shouldn't. Underage drinking. Breaking curfew. I've even heard that a few of the older ones were..." Mrs. Carter paused, casting a glance in mydirection.
"It's okay, Mom," Marv assured her. "Harlow won't repeat anything she hears today. She's with Iris," he reminded her, as if that would give her significantreassurance.
She nodded as though it did and proceeded, "A few of them were arrested," she confessed. "Drug possession and even some rumors ofprostitution."
"Are you sure this has anything to do with Ms. Enders’ etiquette camp?" Marv asked, sittingback.
"All I know it that all of the girls that this has happened to have gone to the same camp before their problems began. Lovely girls going bad, it'spreposterous!"
"Maybe they're just being teenagers," Marv said, though he, himself, didn't seem to be convinced ofthat.
"We can always go talk to them," I offeredlamely.
Mrs. Carter looked at me, eyes analyzing, and nodded. "I think it would be a good idea, but for now, I think I'll enroll Quinn in dancing lessons or something else that'scloser."
Marv nodded also, accepting her decision. We spent the rest of the tea time making small talk. Mrs. Carter and Marv discussed old family friends and she asked me questions that I didn't mind answering. We discussed how I had moved out of the house I had shared with my mom several weeks earlier, and had been living with the guys, helping them move into the house Knix had built. It was certainly bigger, and he had even added extra bedroom space off of the living room. I told her about my cat that lived with me at the guys’ house. Perhaps she wasn't as fascinated as she appeared to be and was merely being polite, but when she inquired about Cleo's breed, I quickly whipped out my phone and presented pictures to which she smiled and cooedat.
We stayed until the sky darkened for the first time in several days and rain threatenedoverhead.
As Marv and I reentered the house and moved towards the front door, Mrs. Carter followed, her heels clicking on the floor. At the front door, she turned Marv around and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek, as I had seen her do the one time before when I caught a glimpse of her. Marv groaned and attempted to pull away, but she only smiled and patted his cheek before wishing both of us well on ourway.
Marv opened the front door and dashed out first, unlocking the car. He held my passenger door open for me and I quickly got in. Just as the door closed behind me, rain began to pour. I watched as he hurried around the front of his car, stopping as a confused expression overtook his features. He leaned over the hood of his car and wiped at something. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing, but once I did, his confused face became awash in horror and I began tolaugh.
His eyes bulged as he stared, horror struck, at the dark gray paint of his beloved BMW melting away to a bright bubblegum pink. I laughed so hard that I began to wheeze. His eyes snapped to mine over the hood and he narrowed his gaze. Stomping to the driver's side door, Marv yanked it open, not bothering to care that his suit was getting wet or that he was getting water inside thecar.