At that time, we had a girl who drove the Mercedes to pick up the bigwigs. Armalina Redding. I had a bit of a crush on her, being only seventeen while she was a worldly twenty-two.

  She was beautiful and kind spoken. She could charm anybody and knew the entire history of Birmingham. She’d treat the VIP guests of the track to a little storytelling on their ride over. They got to requesting her by name.

  But Roscoe Denny was too much for her. He propositioned her. Made suggestive remarks. He took every opportunity to drape his arm over her shoulders, or place a hand on her waist.

  I don’t think it ever went any further than that, as at least six of us at the track would have killed him, but she flat out refused to pick him up any longer.

  And so one fateful day my senior year of high school, the track manager called me over and asked me to pick up Roscoe Denny.

  I was still smarting over Frank Leon getting the newest lead-out position when it should have been mine. Frank hadn’t done squat at the track other than take up space. But his dad was a trainer, unlike mine, who cleaned up after dogs. He got the opening.

  So I might have had a chip on my shoulder that day I drove the car over to the airport, between Frank getting my job and this Roscoe asshole putting the moves on Armalina the last time he was in town.

  I sat in the pickup lane, punching buttons, trying to figure out the fancy features of that 1998 Mercedes. You didn’t have to put a key in the door to unlock it. The sunroof opened with a mechanical whir. And it didn’t just have a CD player, but one that could hold six CDs at one time and change them out.

  I fiddled with this, moving between the Backstreet Boys, Celine Dion, and LeAnn Rimes, my annoyance rising. Who picked these? I settled on the radio.

  My instinct was to tell this Roscoe guy where he could stuff himself, upsetting a sweet girl like Armalina. She was perfection, and he was bullshit. I was tempted to shovel a round of dog shit onto the backseat to smear his fancy-ass suit and improve his stink.

  My mood didn’t improve when some airport stooge banged on my window and told me I was supposed to be outside to open the door for my charge. I had to futz around to even figure out how to unlock the dang thing.

  But Roscoe laughed the guy off and jumped in. “No bags,” he said to me. “We can hightail it on out of here.”

  Which I did, the minute the door closed again.

  “What a heel,” Roscoe said. “Thinks he’s important when he’s nothing but the dirt people tread on as they go real places.”

  I didn’t expect this. I had half wondered if he was going to be pissed that I wasn’t Armalina.

  “What’s your name, boy?” he asked.

  I hesitated, as I always did. Hasmund didn’t shorten to anything. “Mac,” I said. I’d tried to get that nickname to stick since grade school, but nobody called me by it.

  “Well, Mac,” Roscoe said, “you look like you’re about to fly the coop. You graduated yet?”

  “About to in May,” I said.

  “I’ve seen you around the track. You work hard.”

  “Been with the hounds since I was twelve, and mucked out the horse stalls before that.” I circled the airport to head back to the highway. Roscoe wasn’t anything like I expected.

  “You been a lead-out?”

  I grimaced. “Nah. Keep getting passed over.” I wasn’t thrilled to admit this, but I saw no reason not to lay it out. I figured Roscoe was the sort to know what’s up anyway.

  “I have never understood why they let those pansy-ass rich boys handle the dogs when it’s so critical how they go into the gate. Greyhounds are a whole ’nother kettle of fish than horses.”

  This was my kind of talk. My hand slammed the steering wheel. “Exactly. Tommy Trueblood totally screwed his dog when he acted so squirrelly loading him that the dog got spooked. He came out of the gate like an unwhelped mutt.”

  Roscoe laughed, long and loud.

  I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. He didn’t seem so bad now. I didn’t know it then, but I was looking at the face of a good ol’ boy. And good ol’ boys did right by their kind to the exclusion of everybody else.

  Which meant anybody who didn’t look and think like him.

  These days, I eat good ol’ boys for breakfast. I enjoy dismantling the businesses they built on sexism and prejudice and selling them for spare parts.

  But back then, all I knew was this man was rich and powerful, and he liked me.

  We talked about other random things on that drive. Roscoe laughed a lot more. I didn’t know that day was going to change my life until a few weeks later, when I got called in by the racetrack manager. They said Roscoe was giving me a scholarship to Auburn University, as long as I could get accepted.

  I spent that year repairing grades and joining clubs, making my application look the way my high school counselor said it should. I got wait-listed at first, but eventually I made it in.

  And from then on, I saw how things worked. It wasn’t the job you did that mattered, but who you did it for. And I looked for the people who could point me the direction I wanted to go. I’ll be the first to admit I was a total bastard, sweet-talking sorority girls who could get me into frat parties where I made friends with people who had CEO fathers.

  They all called me Mac.

  Roscoe Denny died before I finished my degree. I never saw him again. And I don’t admire him as much as feel grateful that he chose me as a project. That first unexpected leg up sent me on my way.

  Even if I never did get to be lead-out.

  Arianna stretches as we wait for the crew to prepare to let us off the plane. Grace starts to stir too, no longer lulled by the gentle motion of the flight. It’s night here, well past her bedtime. But we still have to settle into the hotel. Tomorrow we meet the parents, and I can’t help but dread every moment of it.

  Chapter 8

  Arianna

  The morning dawns bright and clear. The hotel isn’t exactly luxurious, but it serves its purpose. Dell and I could have stayed at a resort at the golf course on the outskirts of Birmingham, but I wanted to see the city proper.

  So we chose one in the downtown area. Only a handful of buildings stand out on the cityscape. It’s rare I stay in a city this small. I like it.

  Dell comes up behind me. I try to think of him as Hasmund now so that I don’t slip, but the name doesn’t come easily after four months. I wonder if he should out himself to his parents, at least. I can’t imagine my family not even knowing the name I go by. Mom no doubt subscribes to my Google alerts, even as dull as I am.

  Although, maybe not so boring. There’s the baby issue, which she will certainly drill me on soon. I swept the issue away on the phone, but I know I’ll have to be a little more keen when I see her to settle her curiosity.

  “What’s got you so serious?” Dell asks, his face nuzzling my neck.

  “Just hoping we can keep our story straight,” I say.

  He grips me more tightly. “There’s a lot riding on it.”

  “What happens if it does get out?” I ask. “We found Grace’s mother. And we may have left a trail when we visited Winnie then flew to France.”

  Dell releases me and perches on the side of an armchair. “No one knows about that affair. But we’ll have to be convincing,” he says. “We’ll limit contact on this trip to direct family. Just a quick meeting, introduce everyone. I plan to draw my mother and brother out by taking them to lunch.” He grimaces.

  “You don’t sound thrilled.”

  “It’s just that they don’t have a lot of truly private dining experiences here, and even if they did, I don’t think my mother would…” He hesitates. “Fit in.”

  “What’s she like?” I ask. When I think of her, I imagine an aging southern belle, spun gray hair and an apron over her dress. Dell has no pictures of his family in his penthouse.

  “Well, I haven’t seen her in person in thirteen years,” Dell says, “but she’s whip thin with wild hair and a million tattoos, and more personality than you should be able to fit into one woman. She’s strong, which is why I guess she could deal with my father. I would have walked away years ago. I guess I did.”

  I turn to look at him. His dark eyes are serious, a crease pinched between them. “What is the deal with your dad? Why do you dislike him so much?”

  Dell stares out the window. He’s not the same here. Less sure of himself. More vulnerable. In New York, he is a force. Nobody crosses him. He walks with this air of unbreakable tenacity.

  But now, I sense his weak spot. He changed his name to shake this town, this history.

  He hasn’t answered yet, so I step forward and take his hands. They are strong and large and make me feel dainty. The wispy fabric of my silk robe brushes between us. I love this man. I wonder if half of his womanizing ways were to avoid this sort of family moment. A girl who never gets more than a weekend can’t insist on meeting his parents.

  “In some ways he was a typical dad,” Dell finally says. “Roughhoused with me and Donovan. Taught us baseball. Made us work hard. Forced us to have manners.”

  He barks out a laugh. “But he was bitter. As we got older, he just expected us to be more than we were. Nothing we did was good enough. Donny was young still when I started working at the racetrack. So he didn’t get it as hard. Not that I saw.”

  He sighs, shaking his head as if he can knock the memories out. “He was a straight-up asshole in the end. Felt I was a loser. A disappointment. Nothing.”

  My head rests against his chest. “And you never let him know who you became? You didn’t want to show him?”

  “He doesn’t deserve to be a part of it,” Dell says, wrapping his arms around my back.

  “What do you want your parents to know now?” I ask. “They might separate us and quiz us individually.”

  “I have no intention of letting that happen. I plan to invite Mom to a lunch Dad would never show up at, introduce her to the baby, and then go to a park so they can play. Donovan will hopefully bring Mom so he can be with us. And that will be the end of it.”

  I nod against his chest. “What if she is pushy about us visiting her house or seeing your dad?”

  Dell huffs out a laugh. “I’ve put off dukes and presidents. I’m not going to be bullied by my mother.”

  “She might not have the worldly influence of a duke or a president,” I say, “but she’s got the ultimate power over you.”

  A cry from the adjacent bedroom tells us Grace has awakened.

  “I’ll get her,” Dell says, pulling away.

  When he’s gone, I sit in the armchair, looking out over the city. This is Dell’s stomping grounds. Where he was born. Where he worked so hard. Where he sprang from. It sounds like his success is more in spite of his upbringing rather than because of it. I wish I could think of a way to help mend the rift with his father.

  But I’m not one to talk. I see my own parents once a year at best.

  Dell reemerges with a crying, out-of-sorts baby. Poor bub. New place. Off schedule. Hungry and probably wet.

  “I’ll change her if you can make a bottle,” he says.

  “On it,” I say, heading to the desk with a mini-fridge and a small microwave.

  As I mix some formula and dig around the suitcase for the stash of baby food jars, I think over Dell’s plan for the weekend. It sounds easy enough.

  Lunch.

  Park.

  Mom. Brother.

  No dad.

  In. Out. Duty done.

  We can do this, easy.

  Chapter 9

  Dell

  I make the call to my mother while Arianna bathes and dresses Grace for her big meeting.

  She answers on the second ring. “Hasmund?”

  “Yes, it’s me, Mom.”

  “Are you in town already? It’s so early!”

  “Yes, we’re downtown.”

  “Well, what are you doing there?”

  I laugh. “We got a hotel for the night. So, I’ve got us reservations at La Fontaine downtown at noon.” I glance out the window. “It’s a nice day, so I thought we could go to one of the downtown parks for a bit.”

  “Cancel them,” Mom says.

  “What?”

  “Your reservations,” she says. “First of all, I don’t go nowhere that requires reservations. They’re too hoity-toity for me. Second, I already got everybody ready for you. We have a big potluck planned late afternoon when everybody gets off work. Aunt Marge roasted a pig. Been working on it all night. And we got cakes and pies and that corn casserole you used to scarf down.”

  She almost has me at corn casserole. But then I remember — family. People. Too many.

  Grace.

  “Mom, we can’t do that. We have some really big news for you. It’s private.”

  “Ah, baloney,” she says. “Getting married isn’t private. We want to tell everybody! We’ve got the whole thing set up. A regular engagement party. Your cousin Daniel Dean got on his computer and made y’all a fancy sign for congratulations. He’s a wizard on machines.”

  This is a disaster. “Mom, we can’t do that. It’s too much. Arianna will flip.”

  “I always knew you were ashamed of your family. Is your bride one of those rich snooty types?”

  “No!”

  “Well, then shut your bellyaching and be down at the VA Hall at five. And don’t give me any more lip about it.”

  She hangs up.

  I stare at my phone. What just happened?

  Arianna stands in the doorway with Grace wrapped in a towel.

  “Not go according to plan?” she asks. She’s careful not to look smug.

  I can’t even answer. I’m still stupefied that somebody ordered me around. I had completely forgotten what she could be like.

  “You okay, Dell?” Arianna steps closer.

  “Mom has set up an engagement party for us,” I say. “I’m not sure how to get out of it.”

  Arianna settles on the armchair near me, drying Grace’s head. “Maybe you need to rethink the weekend. Reconnect with them.” She glances down at Grace. “Let’s just hold the ruse, okay? We can do this. We had a relationship, broke up, then found out I was pregnant and decided to try again.”

  “We’ll mess up the details. We don’t have the story foolproof.” This is a disaster.

  Arianna reaches out to touch my arm. “I think it will be fine, Dell. These are people who love you. And it’s no big scandal to have a baby before we’re married. It happens all the time.”

  I walk the length of the hotel room. I hate it. It’s small. Ordinary. There is nothing to my standards here. This town. This hotel. This life.

  Grace coos from the towel. She loves being dried off after a bath.

  “Here, give her to me,” I say.

  Arianna lifts Grace up, and I take her. She smells of baby shampoo and heaven. Her bright eyes look up at me, as innocent and guileless as the moon.

  She calms me. Arianna is right. Babies are just babies. The only scandals are the ones done by the adults. And we’re doing the right thing here. Getting married. Taking care of her.

  I just don’t want any of this to reflect badly on Arianna. She’s done nothing but save me. And now she’s entering a place where she’ll be judged.

  “This is not how it was supposed to go down,” I say.

  “I guess it’s time for Hasmund McDonald to realize he doesn’t control the world,” she says. “There’s no Dell Brant here.”

  Arianna stands and smooths her fitted gray pants. An elegant fluttery shirt in subtle tones looks expensive and classy. She’s going to stand out at a Legion Hall potluck.

  But she’s right. I have no control here. If there is anything I’ve learned from these last conversations with my mother, it’s that if I got my domineering, my-way-or-the-highway attitude from anyone, it’s her.

  “Am I overdressed?” she asks.

  “Is that an Armani blouse?” I ask.

  She looks down at it. “Yes.”

  “And pants?”

  “Isabel Marant Étoile,” she says. “A gift from my mother.”

  “I guess you know that outfit is two house payments down here.”

  She plucks at her shirt. “Do I have time to shop somewhere more appropriate?”

  “No, I love you just as you are. Just know that everyone you meet will buy their things at Wal-Mart.”

  “I’ve never been in a Wal-Mart,” she says. “Do they have them in Manhattan?”

  “Manhattan, Kansas,” I say wryly.

  “Maybe I should go,” she says. “I could stand to learn a little culture. Broaden my horizons.”

  This makes me laugh out loud. “Sure, okay. Let’s make sure we squeeze that in.”

  She frowns. “Are you making fun of me?”

  I switch Grace to one arm and wrap the other around Arianna. “Not in a million years. I’m making fun of me. And I’m not any more fit to walk into this party than you are.”

  “We’ll be gracious,” she says. “You and I are the epitome of manners.”

  “That’s a good thing,” I tell her. “Because we’re about to be tested.”

  She takes Grace from my arms and heads back to the adjoining room, where we’ve stored all of the baby’s things. I glance around the cramped room. I should be fitting back into the land where I grew up.

  But instead I find it stifling, unfamiliar, and if I’m willing to admit it, scary as hell.

  I have no idea how they will treat Arianna. Maybe I should have her dress more plainly. But it is an engagement party. People will pull out their best.

  At this point our best hope is that Grace steals the show.

  And that my father doesn’t show up.

  Chapter 10

  Arianna

  We eat at the lovely restaurant Dell had chosen for his family. It’s precisely our style and I feel perfectly at home.

  Afterward, though, we go to Railroad Park. It’s a pretty scenic area of downtown with walking paths. There, I start to see what he means. I’m overdressed. Most of the mothers have on jeans or some form of workout clothes. I wonder what this VA Hall is like. The restaurant or the park? Which way do I dress?

 

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