Authors: Sandi Perry
“Annabelle,
Mirabelle,
Sara
Belle,
and
Bella
Sue.”
“Oh,
that
last
one
caught
me
by
surprise,
or
should
I
say
they
all
did.
I
don’t
know
anymore.”
She
scratched
her
chin
in
confusion.
“Well,
my
Mama
always
wanted
for
her
gals
to
be
the
‘Belles’
of
the
ball.
By
the
time
they
got
to
daughter
number
four,
my
father
put
his
foot
down.
He
didn’t
want
his
daughters
to
become
a
laughingstock.
At
least
one
of
them
has
some
sense.”
“This
property
is
amazing.
If
I
lived
here
I
would
never
leave.”
“Oh
yes,
you
would,”
Alex
said
knowingly.
They
heard
loud
laughter
and
animated
conversation
coming
from
around
the
back
of
the
house
and
walked
along
the
cobblestone
path
through
the
rose
arbor
toward
the
source
of
the
noise.
Allison
noticed
immediately
that
all
the
females
were
beautiful
and
had
almost
exact
matching
shades
of
honey-blonde
hair,
even
the
young
children.
She
didn’t
know
if
they
used
the
same
hairdresser
or
if
it
was
a
function
of
their
genetics,
but
the
result
was
startling.
She
felt
out
of
place
with
her
jet-black
hair.
Alex
stepped
up
behind
his
mother
and
held
his
hands
over
her
eyes.
She
let
out
a
whoop
of
delight
as
she
eagerly
felt
his
hands.
She
flung
them
off
with
a
flourish
and
hugged
him
with
unbridled
joy.
She
pulled
back
and
still
held
him
in
her
arms
to
get
a
good
look
at
him.
Her
light-blue
wrap
dress
clung
to
her
curvaceous
curves
and
the
chunky
crystal
necklace
she
wore
glinted
in
the
sunlight,
adding
an
extra
sparkle
to
her
middle-aged
beauty.
“Well,
well,
excuse
mah
mannahs.”
She
looped
her
left
arm
in
her
son’s
and
reached
out
her
right
to
shake
Allison's
hand.
“I’m
Celeste
Covington."
She
waved
her
hand
over
the
back
of
her
head,
"That's
my
husband,
Horatio.”
She
introduced
her
husband
airily,
as
if
it
was
a
second
thought.
Allison
thought
it
discourteous,
and
her
interest
in
Celeste
plummeted.
She
also
observed
that
Celeste
maintained
a
firm,
possessive
grip
on
her
son
and
smiled
to
herself.
She
pitied
the
woman
Alex
would
ultimately
bring
home
to
meet
his
mother—she
would
not
hand
him
over
graciously.
“Mama,
Dad,
this
is
Allison
Ross,”
he
smiled
at
her
as
he
made
the
introductions.
She
noted
that
he
left
the
nature
of
her
visit
unaddressed.
He
must
have
a
death
wish,
because
his
mother
was
eying
them
both
in
a
wary
manner.
Either
she’ll
kill
him,
or
I’ll
do
it
when
we’re
done
here,
Allison
thought
to
herself
when
she
was
left
floundering
to
make
the
explanations.
“Mrs.
Coventry,
Alex
and
I
are
business
associates.
He
works
for
my
father’s
company,
and
I
am
here
simply
to
sound
out
the
possibility
of
Alex
moving
upward
within
the
ranks
of
the
business—to
see
how
nicely
he
plays
with
others.”
Allison
offered
up
what
she
hoped
was
a
winning
and
non-confrontational
smile.
“Well,
of
course
he
plays
nicely
with
others;
you
didn’t
have
to
come
all
the
way
down
here
just
to
figure
that
out.”
Celeste
reached
over
with
her
hand
and
patted
Alex's
chest
supportively,
an
uncertain
look
in
her
eyes.
“You
Yankee
girls
are
overly
uptight
about
these
sorts
of
things.
Life
is
all
about
taking
chances.”
Alex
disentangled
himself
from
his
mother’s
firm
grip.
“Mama,
no
one
refers
to
people
living
in
New
York
as
Yankees
anymore,
as
you
very
well
know.
Stop
being
intimidating.”
Celeste
pulled
back
and
looked
from
her
son
to
Allison.
She
straightened
up
and
took
a
deep
breath,
“Excuse
me,
Allison,
I
didn’t
mean
to
sound
so
critical.”
Annabelle
stepped
into
the
circle,
"That's
right,
Mama,
you
meant
to
sound
only
moderately
critical.
Now,
now,
let’s
all
be
friends.”
Allison
noticed
that
they
were
suddenly
surrounded
by
what
she
assumed
were
all
the
Coventry
women
and
their
spouses.
She
was
grateful
for
Alex's
steady
presence
at
her
side,
as
if
to
signal
his
allegiance
to
her.