Gee is the closest thing to Marilyn Monroe this generation has ever known. And similarly, from the glazed look on her face, she’s going to burn up before she burns out.”
They all leaned in for a better look, but Meg saw only an impossibly beautiful woman in an impossibly scanty gown. Her head was turned and she was smiling at someone—the man who was cropped out of the photo? Only the sleeve of his black jacket remained, emblazoned with some kind of crest. Probably someone famous. The woman had been linked with every international bad boy there was, from rock star to rebel prince.
“I can’t believe she would go out in public wearing something like that,” Sharon said, shaking her head. “She’s already gorgeous. Why does she need to be so over the top?”
“So she’ll make the Sexiest Outfits of the Season list,” Meg pointed out.
“And so pathetic people like us will spend our lunch hour talking about her,” Joanna chimed in.
“Deep down, we all wish we could wear a dress like that,” Kathie insisted, tapping the page. “And turn every person’s head when we walk into a room.”
At times Kathie sounded more like a psychology teacher than a science teacher. She had a knack for zeroing in on people’s deepest, darkest urges. Meg had picked up the phone a couple times this week to talk to her friend about her general state of unrest, but she’d changed her mind at the last second. She couldn’t seem to zero in on what was wrong with her. Spring fever? Cold feet?
“Even if that was true,” Joanna said, flipping her head of carrot-orange curls, “we don’t all look like Taylor Gee.”
“Meg is beautiful enough to pull it off,” Sharon insisted, and to Meg’s chagrin, all eyes turned to her. Her neck and cheeks warmed, and she pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Take off your glasses,” Kathie urged.
“What? No.”
“Come on, humor me.”
Meg slipped off her glasses and sighed.
“I can’t believe I never noticed.”
“What, the hump on my nose?”
“No—you’re a dead ringer for Taylor Gee.”
Meg squinted in Kathie’s direction. “Maybe you should borrow my glasses.”
“Am I right, girls?”
Sharon hummed. “Well, if your hair was blond—”
“—and if your eyes were blue,” Joanna chimed in.
“—and if you painted a mole near the corner of your mouth,” Sharon continued.
“—and if you were coming out of your clothes,” Joanna offered, “then yeah, you’d be a dead ringer for her.”
“See?” Kathie asked.
Meg laughed and jammed the black rimmed glasses back on her face. “You three watch too much TV.”
Kathie grinned. “You have the face, but those baggy dresses would not get you on the Sexiest Outfits of the Season list.”
Meg frowned and looked down at her gray crinkle cotton dress. “I like my baggy dresses. They’re comfortable. And washable.” An important feature when working with seven-year-olds.
“Meg probably wears something more sexy for Trey,” Joanna teased.
She squirmed. In truth, Trey Carnegie liked the fact that she didn’t flaunt her body. You dress like a lady—you always make me proud to stand next to you. Too bad Meg wasn’t sure she wanted Trey to always treat her like a “lady.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of Trey, I have an announcement.”
The room fell silent.
“Last night after the benefit dinner…Trey proposed.”
Sharon and Joanna squealed their congratulations, and even Kathie managed a little smile.
“Well, Mr. Three Piece Suit finally got around to it, eh?”
There was no love lost between Kathie and Trey, but Meg had stopped trying to figure out why her closest friend didn’t gel with her longtime boyfriend. Trey said Kathie was jealous because she didn’t have a boyfriend. But Meg couldn’t disagree with her friend on one point—Trey had taken his sweet time asking for her hand—five years. And Meg still wasn’t sure why she waited.
“What did you tell him?” Kathie asked.
“What do you think she told him?” Sharon asked a little sarcastically.
“I don’t see a ring.”
Sharon glanced at Meg’s bare left hand, then gasped. “What did you tell him?”
Meg looked at the three curious faces, and the familiar weight of expectation settled in her stomach. Meg the good girl. Meg the straight-A student. Meg the model employee. Meg the proper girlfriend. God, she wanted to break free from it all. She inhaled. “I said I needed some time to think about it.”
Kathie slapped her knee. “Good for you.”
“She’s just paying him back for making her wait so long,” Joanna said. “Aren’t you, Meg?”
She wished. Her mother was practically frantic about her sister Rebecca’s broken engagement, then her rebound romance with Michael Pierce that seemed to be moving way too quickly. Once again, the pressure was on Meg to do the right thing. So to be honest, she had no idea why she hadn’t told Trey “yes” on the spot, except for the underlying feeling that there was something missing. Like romance. Passion. Excitement. Still, Joanna’s explanation seemed good enough for now. “Right. I’m going to let him cool his heels for a while.”
“And who knows?” Kathie said with a sly grin. “In the meantime, maybe you’ll meet some one who’ll make you forget all about Trey Carnegie.”
“Kathie,” Joanna chided, “Trey is a catch, especially around here.”
That was odd. Did Joanna mean that if they weren’t in Peoria, Trey wouldn’t be as good a catch? But she knew what her friend meant—young, successful men from prominent wealthy families did not grow on trees in their quaint city.
“Did he offer you a ring?” Sharon asked, a wistful look in her eyes.
“He wants me to pick it out when I’m ready.”
“Did you tell him when you’d give him an answer?” Joanna asked, equally starry-eyed.
Guilt twinged low in Meg’s stomach—both Joanna and Sharon would change places with her in a split-second, and here she was stalling. “I told him we’d talk about it when I get back from vacation. I’m taking off all next week.”
Kathie whooped. “You’re finally taking the five-day bonus they gave you for being Teacher of the Year?”
That was a source of pride and embarrassment.
In fact, maybe some of the disquiet she’d been experiencing could be posttraumatic stress over the wave of statewide publicity she’d received the past couple of months. More expectations. Meg nodded sheepishly.
“Well, it’s about time.”
“Where are you going?” Sharon asked.
“Somewhere exciting?” Joanna asked.
“A cruise?”
“The beach?”
“Vegas?”
Meg folded her napkin and patted her mouth.
“I’m going to Chicago to run my sister’s costume shop.”
In the ensuing silence, she got the feeling her friends were a little underwhelmed.
“Oh.”