Page 69 of Dirty Little Secret
Chapter 23
Zandra
Moving each dress one at a time, I searched for a dress that looked right for a mother. Pulling a nice blue one off the rack, I held it up. “How about this one, Taylor. Does this scream “mom” to you?”
She made a face that told me she hated it. “No, that one screams grandma.” She held up a very short, hot pink dress with spaghetti straps. “I like this one. You should go try it on.”
“That’s not a mom dress at all, Taylor.” I shook my head. “You’re really no help. Maybe I should ask a saleslady for some help instead.”
Taylor looked around. “Good luck with that. This place is one step below Target.”
A woman, who looked to be in her thirties and who had two little kids sitting in her shopping cart, came up behind me. “Sorry to interrupt, but did I hear you say you were looking for something that looked a little more motherly?”
I turned around and smiled at her, checking out her outfit. “I am. Am I in the wrong department or something?” I asked.
“No, but this place just might not have what you’re looking for. I can see that you’ve got some fashion sense, but your style is a little young.” She tapped her chin as she looked me up and down, taking in my short skirt, tight button-down shirt, and thigh-high boots. “I suggest you go down the Savanah Highway and look for a place called Jordan and Jane. They’ve got a great selection, and it’s a good mix of fashionable yet sophisticated. I know a lot of young moms who shop there.”
“Thank you.” I looked at Taylor. “I’m going to head that way, and you’re not coming with me.”
“Party pooper,” Taylor said, then stuck out her tongue. “Have it your way.”
“I’ve got to try harder to be the mom Fox deserves, Taylor.” I put the dress I’d been holding back on the rack.
The woman who’d made the suggestion perked up a little at what I’d said. “Do you mean Fox Price?”
I looked at her again. “Yes. Do you know him?”
“He and my son, Jake, go to school together. He’s been telling everyone about how he found his mom.” She clapped her hands. “And here you are. Isn’t this exciting?”
“Sure.” To be honest, I found it a bit more nerve-wracking than exciting. I thought I’d have a bit more time to settle in as Fox’s mom before having to meet the other parents from his school.
“I’m on the parent-teacher board. It’s kind of like the PTA, but since the school is private, we call it that.” She put her hand on my shoulder, as if we were old friends. “I would love to see you at the next meeting. Dr. Price always goes. He’s an avid supporter. I can’t wait to see you around the campus.”
“Um, thanks. I’m Zandra Larkin, and you are?” I asked, as she’d yet to tell me her name and I didn’t want to go to some meeting at the school without knowing the name of at least one other mom.
“Oh, how silly of me.” She extended her hand and I shook it. “I’m Christina Flanders.”
“Okay, well, thanks for the fashion advice. I look forward to seeing you at the meetings, I guess.” I grabbed my purse out of the empty basket I’d been pushing around.
But Mrs. Flanders had one more thing to ask, “So, how is he?”
I wasn’t sure what she was asking me. “How is who?”
“Dr. Price.” She fanned herself. “That man is something else. I’m assuming since you’re back in his life, you must be back in his bed. Who could resist?”
“Um, I’m not really comfortable answering that.” I started to walk away, feeling my body heat with anger and shock at her forwardness.
Who the hell does she think she is?
“So, you’re not with him?” she called out after me.
“Not officially, she’s not,” I heard Taylor say. “But she sure does have a thing for him, I can tell ya that.”
People would talk. I should’ve known that. But I hadn’t realized how much it would bother me.
As I walked out the door a couple of young girls, who looked like they were still in high school, looked me over. “Cute outfit,” one of them said.
I couldn’t even say thank you. I knew I must’ve looked like one of them, and not like the mother of a ten-year-old. Maybe that was why that Flanders woman thought she could ask me such a thing. I looked like I was in junior high, like I was the kind of immature young woman who would love nothing more than to gossip about boys.
