"Nice pieces, aren't they?" Kayla said.
"Very nice." Meg put the sweater back and fingered a Narciso Rodriguez jacket.
Kayla regarded her almost slyly. "Most women don't have the body to wear these clothes. You have to be really tall and thin."
Thank you, Mom! Meg did a quick mental calculation, and ten minutes later, she walked out of the store with the Miu Miu mini and the Modigliani tank dress.
The next day was Sunday. Most of the employees grabbed a quick lunch in the caddy room or a corner of the kitchen, but she didn't like either place. Instead, she headed toward the swimming pool with the peanut butter sandwich she'd made that morning. As she passed the dining patio, she spotted Spence, Sunny, and Ted seated at one of the umbrella-shaded tables. Sunny had her hand on Ted's arm, and Ted seemed perfectly content to leave it there. He was doing all the talking as Spence listened intently. None of them noticed her.
The pool was crowded with families enjoying the long holiday weekend. Conscious of her lowly employee status, she found a spot in the grass around the corner from the snack shop and away from the members. As she sat cross-legged on the ground Haley appeared, carrying a drink cup printed with the green country-club logo. "I brought you a Coke."
"Thanks."
Haley freed her hair from the ponytail her job required and settled next to Meg. She'd unfastened all the buttons on her yellow employees' polo, but it still pulled over her breasts. "Mr. Clements and his sons are playing at one o'clock. Dr Pepper and Bud Light."
"I saw." Meg checked tee times each morning in hopes of improving her tips by memorizing names, faces, and the members' drink preferences. She hadn't exactly received a warm welcome, but no one except Kayla's father, Bruce, had mentioned getting rid of her, something she attributed to Spencer Skipjack's interest rather than the quality of her service.
Haley gazed at the short pendant nestled inside the open collar of Meg's detestable polo. "You have the best jewelry."
"Thanks. I made it last night." She'd assembled a small, quirky necklace from bits of the rescued costume jewelry: the mother-of-pearl face of a broken Hello Kitty watch, some tiny pink glass beads she'd taken off a lone earring, and a silver fish that looked as though it might have been part of a key chain. With a little glue and wire, she'd pulled together an interesting piece, perfect for the silky black cord she'd shortened.
"You're so creative," Haley said.
"I love jewelry. Buying it, making it, wearing it. When I travel, I find local artisans and watch them work. I've learned a lot." She impulsively unclipped the cord. "Here. Enjoy."
"You're giving it to me?"
"Why not?" She fastened the pendant around Haley's neck. Its funky charm helped downplay her overly made-up face.
"That's so cool. Thanks."
The gift unlocked some of Haley's natural reticence, and while Meg ate, she talked about attending the county community college in the fall. "My mom wants me to go to U.T. instead. She's being a real rag about it, but I'm not going."
"I'm surprised you don't want to head off to the big city," Meg said.
"It's not so bad here. Zoey and Kayla are always talking about how much they'd like to move to Austin or San Antonio, but they never do anything about it." She took a sip of her Coke. "Everybody's saying Mr. Skipjack's obsessed with you."
"He's obsessed with my celebrity connections, and he's really persistent. Just between us, I've been trying to get him to back off by telling him I'm in love with Ted."
Haley's big eyes grew even larger. "You're in love with Ted?"
"God, no. I have more sense. That was the best I could come up with on short notice."
Haley pulled at a tuft of grass by her ankle. Finally, she said, "Have you ever been in love?"
"I thought I was a couple of times, but I wasn't. What about you?"
"For a while, I had this thing for this guy I graduated with. Kyle Bascom. He's going to County Community next year, too." She glanced up at the clock on the snack shop wall. "I have to get back to work. Thanks for the necklace."
Meg finished her sandwich, grabbed an empty golf cart, and drove back to the fourteenth tee. By four o'clock, the course had begun to empty, leaving her with nothing to do except obsess over her failures.
That evening when she pulled the Rustmobile up to the church, she found an unfamiliar car parked by the steps. As she got out, Sunny Skipjack came around the corner from the graveyard. She'd traded in the marigold yellow number she'd been wearing at lunch for shorts, a white top, and a pair of cherry red sunglasses. "Doesn't it bother you, living out here alone?" she asked.