Read Online The Red Hat Society's Queens of Woodlawn Avenue by Regina Hale Sutherland - Free Book Online Page A

next to Roz. She took the one on the other side of me and smiled graciously
     at the other women at the table as she took her intricately folded linen napkin and placed it in her lap.
    Roz turned toward me with a smile that looked like a hyena sizing up a lamb chop. “So, Ellie, how is yournew house working out? I drove by the other day, and I was so surprised to see
rental property
across the street.” She said the two words in a whisper, as if she’d been forced to utter an obscenity in polite company.
    “The house is coming along,” I said blithely, imitating Linda by reaching for my napkin and draping it across my lap.
    “The location doesn’t bother you, then?” Roz was never one to dig in the knife without giving it a good, hard twist. “I’d
     be devastated to leave Belle Meade.”
    She’d led a high card, and I cast about desperately in my mind for a trump, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. The other
     ladies at the table might be sipping water from crystal goblets or tucking their own napkins in their laps, but I could see
     from the corner of my eye that they were hanging on every word of our exchange.
    “I live next door to Ellie,” Linda said, jumping to my defense. “I love my neighborhood. It has the most darling houses. Give
     me character and charm over some of these McMansions any day of the week.”
    Roz couldn’t prevent the corner of her lip from curling up for the briefest of moments, a snarl that revealed her for the
     bitch she was. I beamed at Linda, who had trumped Roz for me.
    “My new neighbors are the best part of moving,” I said. “Linda’s been lovely, welcoming me to the neighborhood.”
    I might have taken the trick, but I knew better than to think Roz would throw in her cards easily.
    “I got the cutest little invitation yesterday,” she said, looking around at the other ladies at the table. The catering staff were beginning to circle the room, and one slipped a spinach salad under Roz’s carefully sculpted nose. I remembered
     vividly the day when I was fourteen and my mother came home from work and confided in me that Roz had undergone plastic surgery.
     At the time, we’d been struggling to find the money to buy my school supplies.
    “Invitation to what?” Linda asked politely before taking a bite of her salad, and a sudden, icy fear struck me.
    “A wedding,” Roz said with a laugh. “At first, I thought it was for a baby shower, it was so pink. I’ve never seen anything
     quite so…well, childish, I guess is the word.”
    At the far end of the table, a dark-haired woman’s eyes lit up. She set down her fork, prepared to feed on something more
     substantial than the spinach salad. “Who’s the lucky couple?”
    The dark-haired woman was probably the only person at the table who hadn’t received one of the pink monstrosities. Roz smiled
     at me in triumph. “I’m sure you can guess, Ellie.”
    Everyone at the table froze, as if waiting for the
Ten-nessean
photographer to take a picture. Five pairs of eyes fixed on me. Once again Roz had led a high card, but this time I couldn’t
     look to Linda for help. I had to trump her on my own.
    Should I laugh it off? Feign indifference? For a moment I froze, until Linda nudged me with her foot beneath the table.
    “I’m surprised,” I said, trying to look nonplussed. Roz looked so pleased with herself, and I dearly wanted to take that self-satisfied
     look off of her face.
    “What surprises you, Ellie dear?” Roz asked.
    I took a sip of iced tea from the Waterford crystal in front of me. “I’m surprised you didn’t get your invitation earlier.
     Mine came a week ago.”
    I was not going to give her the satisfaction, no matter what it cost me. Around the table, the other women whispered and tittered.
     Linda smiled her approval.
    “Really?” Roz pretended to look aghast. “Oh, Ellie, surely you’re not going to attend the wedding? I mean, well, that would
     be just too humiliating, wouldn’t