BlueBell has been hit with another freaky fall heat wave. And everyone knows that when the weather here gets out-of-control, even those who ordinarily conduct themselves with the highest levels of decorum are occasionally driven to do the most ludicrous things. For example, my mama called me this morning, simply beside herself because she forgot about her standing Monday appointment at Susie’s, which, in and of itself, is a catastrophe of Snooki-sized proportions. And then my call waiting beep-beeped.
It was my darling husband (thank goodness, because mama could have gone on about her wilted weave for hours) calling to saying he’d made reservations for the two of us at Fancie’s that night. It wasn’t my birthday, so I knew the heat had him feeling romantic. And I was excited to wear the new halter dress I’d bought in Mobile the other day (I confess, the heat might have caused me to let loose a little, too). I should have been slightly hesitant about going to the restaurant in BlueBell since my face and hair looked like half a wreck. But even the most gifted ‘Bama belle can only do so much in this kind of humidity.
So while the hubby and I are at Fancie’s, having the most delightful night, though they sat us at this wretched table right by the restrooms, probably because Fancie’s was packed. I mean, everyone in town was there, even the mayor, who looked to be on a date with that new girl from out of town. No, sillies, not Dr. Zoe Hart, but rather the sweet Southern one who is working for George Tucker… Who was also at Fancie’s, with his beautiful fiancée Lemon Breeland! My, my, what a small town!
Lemon and George had the best table in the house, obviously. And their table was quite abuzz with activity! Lemon had been fretting all week about this very important dinner with her future in-laws, and from my imperfect vantage point everyone seemed to be having a grand time. At one point, the mayor and his date even joined them! I think the men were talking football, from their wild hand gestures. Luckily, my hubby was facing me (and the men’s room), or I would have most certainly lost him to their conversation. Boys will always be boys.
The mayor and Didi excused themselves early — so one can only assume their date was going exceedingly well. The heat gets to even nice Southern girls, and the mayor is BlueBell’s most eligible bachelor. But then, as she tends to do in any dignified situation, into Fancie’s burst Dr. Zoe Hart to ruin a perfectly nice meal for Lemon and her family. In shorts. Of course. Does that girl own a sundress? Or even a skirt?
Our table was too far away to hear anything good, and my annoying husband kept trying to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, but from what I could tell Dr. Zoe Hart faked some sort of head wound (not very well, I might add) as a ruse to lure Brick out of Lemon’s dinner, which Lemon saw right through — she’s a very good judge of character — and when Zoe Hart continued to blather on and on, Lemon simply got up and walked away, to make a point that she was above all these silly, childish games. And unfortunately that’s all I could gather from where I was sitting. Hubby and I finished off our meal with a to-die-for chocolate soufflé and some champagne. All in all, it was a pretty delicious evening.