Now dressed in her new navy romper and gold bangles, Hanna began placing the food on the French casement sideboard and vintage trunk-styled wooden coffee table. It was a few minutes before six, when the women were set to arrive. It was almost time.
She had whipped up her deviled eggs and also made her family’s peach cobbler recipe. The smell of the peaches baking always reminded her of her late Maw Maw, who would make it for Sunday night dinners. Now, sometimes her own mom would make it, and Drake and Lucy would eat it during Sunday night dinners, too. It made Hanna happy knowing her kids were getting the same memories that she did growing up.
As the ladies began arriving that evening, Hanna opened the door and greeted each one with a cheek kiss and glass of sparkling wine.
“Oh, isn’t this lovely?” Genevieve, wearing a mint green swing dress, twirled around the foyer looking at the house. “I have to get a tour!”
Hanna took her and the other women around the first floor, showing off each room proudly. “Here’s our living room,” she said, walking into the open space. The gas fireplace was currently on despite the fact it was late August and eighty degrees outside. She felt the cozy flames gave the place extra oomph. The oversized L-shaped sofa sat around the wooden coffee table, while a fluffy white throw blanket casually draped over the couch just like it had in the showroom.
“I’m obsessed with your furniture,” Genevieve said, eyeing the reclaimed wood side tables. “Is it new? Where’s it from?”
A compliment from Genevieve? Hanna gripped her hands tightly trying to not audibly squeal with excitement. “Thank you,” she said, trying to sound humble. “Yes, it’s from Pottery Barn. I just love that place.”
“Oh, me too!” Genevieve said. “I’d buy out the whole store if I could.”
Hanna smiled and put her hands on her hips. “I basically did!”
The women laughed and then walked over to the kitchen. It was sparkling after her new maid had scrubbed it clean, removing all traces of her peach cobbler baking mess earlier that day.
“I love your backsplash,” Diana said, walking over and inspecting the fleur-de-lis–patterned ceramic tile. “This makes me want to redo my kitchen.” She let out a jealous sigh.
They walked through the formal dining area where the long wooden farmhouse table and high-back upholstered chairs sat underneath the crystal chandelier. “Gorgeous!” shouted Taffy. The others murmured their assent.
Hanna was practically floating when she led them to the library, which was all decked out for the party. Everything was spread out beautifully, with bouquets of French hydrangeas from the local florist scattered around the room.
“This all looks so yummy,” Taffy said, scurrying over to the sideboard and grabbing an appetizer plate from the stack of new china Hanna had set out.
“Yes, thank you again for hosting, Hanna.” Genevieve sat down on the plush upholstered sofa.
“My pleasure,” she said, joining them in the seating area with her glass of red wine in hand. “I’m so happy we could all do this.” She looked around the room at the ten women who were all leaning in toward her like she was the center of attention. “It was nice hanging out at the fund-raiser the other night. Anyone know the grand total for how much we raised?”
Genevieve dipped a shrimp into a dab of cocktail sauce on her plate. “It was a record number, all thanks to your generous donation.” She took a nibble of the shrimp. “That was so sweet of you to give so much, by the way. If you’re ever looking for more places to donate those winnings of yours, keep the school in mind.” She winked.
“Of course!” Hanna would much rather give money to the school than to the random distant family members asking her to invest in their projects. If she had to hear her great-uncle Lenny’s pitch to sponsor his NASCAR dreams one more time…
The evening was going even better than Hanna could ever have imagined. The wine was flowing as fast as the gossip was. She was shocked to find out Principal Bernard was dating one of the eighth-graders’ moms, but even more shocked Ms. Hebert, the art teacher, was dating the same student’s dad. That poor kid.
Around eight o’clock all of the bottles she had set in the room were empty. Hanna stood up, and felt a little wobbly from the alcohol. “Does anyone want anything else?”
“Do you have any more of that peach cobbler?” Diana was sitting comfortably on the end of the couch, holding an empty plate. Her black blazer’s single button was now open, and Hanna took it as a sign that her cobbler came out as good as she’d hoped.
“Oh, I’m so happy you liked it,” Hanna said, putting her hand on her heart. “It was my Maw Maw’s recipe. She was the best cook.” She looked over at the sideboard and noticed the entire cobbler was gone—just a couple of crumbs were left in the pie plate. “I’m afraid I don’t have any more,” she said, racking her brain for any other treats she had in the house. “But I do have champagne!” The Realtor had given them a special bottle for when she closed on the house, but she and Tom had never gotten around to drinking it.
“Bring it on!” Maya screamed. The other ladies hooted and hollered.
“I’ll be right back!” Hanna ran to the kitchen, giddy from the encouragement. She couldn’t wait to tell Tom she had finally bonded with the PTA moms. He had taken the kids to see a movie. She pulled out her phone to shoot him a text.
Party is a hit! she typed.
She grabbed the bottle of Dom Pérignon from the fridge, and as she began to head back, she caught a glimpse of the shiny new intercom system stationed on the wall. The touch screen stared back at her and an idea crept into her mind. She could listen in on them, hear what they were saying. It would just be for a moment. Hanna paused and shook her head.
That’s a horrible idea. A little voice tickled her brain reminding her that she might not want to know what they were saying about her. But another little voice told her it’d be fun. What if the ladies were going on about how beautiful her house was? Maybe they’d be gushing about her amazing hostess skills and how they all wanted to do this again. It was going so well, after all.
She was feeling lucky.
She hesitated for a second and then tapped the listen button under “Den” with her thumb. She heard voices and laughter coming from the women. Hanna was in—there was no going back.
“I like this chair,” one of the women said. She couldn’t distinguish whose voice was whose. They all sounded a bit high-pitched and twangy.
A wave of relief washed over her. Hanna brought her finger up to the touch screen to turn it off just as another woman started talking.
“Did she just order everything exactly from the catalog?” The room erupted in cackles.
Her heart sped up faster as she continued listening.
“Well, you can’t buy taste.…” another woman said with a haughty tone.
Hanna stood there frozen, not able to turn off the intercom as the women kept talking.
Another voice chimed in. “Even with all that new money…” The word “new” was emphasized with disgust. “Bless her heart, I suppose she’s living her life in her own way.”
The words cut through Hanna’s gut. She knew exactly what their digs about her taste were implying: She wasn’t one of them, and she sure as hell would never be one of them.