"It is." There were few people Tess could talk to about money. She loved Renee even more for accepting this difference between them.

Renee said, "I have to say, on Judy's behalf, that she tried. I can't tell you how many times she's told Momma to come into the shop whenever she wants, but Momma's so proud. She's afraid she'll go and have her hair fixed, then Judy won't charge her. Well, whatever you said to change her mind, thanks."

"Sure. Listen… about the wedding, when do you want her at the church for pictures?"

"The wedding starts at five, so, four o'clock, I think. The photographer wants the rest of us there by three, but I told him to plan on taking all the ones with the grandparents last, so she doesn't have to be there any earlier than necessary. Do you think she'll be okay till we get through dinner?"

"She'll be fine. She insists on walking in with her crutches, but we're taking her wheelchair, too, and whenever she wants to come home I'll bring her. She's really done a remarkable job with her physical therapy. Never a complaint, no matter how it hurts. She's so determined."

"Well… this is a different Tess from the one who said the first day that Momma was going to drive her nuts."

"I guess I just expected too much of her. And you're right. She is getting old. I believe I'm finally accepting that."

"So tell me… do you still resent the fact that Judy and I railroaded you into coming home to take care of her?"

"No, not anymore. At this point I think my record producer resents it more than I do."

"Well, listen, kid, it's late and tomorrow's going to be crazy."

"Sorry I kept you so long."

"One more thing. Have you been staying away from Kenny like I advised?"

"Absolutely away."

"Good. See you at the wedding. I'll be glad when it's over and my life gets back to normal."

The weather on Saturday couldn't have been more ideal. Eighty-three degrees and sunny when Tess was getting dressed. She'd bought a new outfit at Barney's in New York, a midnight blue sheath, utterly simple, and matching sling-back faille pumps with a faint peppering of miniature blue rhinestones on the toes. At her neck she hung a platinum chain with a diamond-covered orb the size of a marble. On her ears were small sickle moons, also covered with real diamonds. Though she had carefully refrained from wearing anything that smacked of wealth or glamour since she'd been home, the wedding, she decided, was an occasion when a little glitz was permitted.

The sheath fit more snugly than when she'd tried it on in New York. She sucked in her breath and pressed her belly. No more burgers and fries at the Sonic Drive-in, and you'd better start jogging every day or you'll be up a size before you know it.

When she walked into Mary's bedroom, Mary stared.

"Something wrong?" Tess asked, glancing down.

"You've been running around here so long in your blue jeans and T-shirts that I forgot you're actually a big-time star. My lord in heaven but you're beautiful, child."

"Oh, Momma…"

"No, you are. A regular sight for sore eyes. Are those real diamonds?"

Tess touched her ear. "Are they too much?"

"Ha. You just wear them. You earned them."

"Thanks, Momma." The praise touched Tess deeply, especially Mary's approval of the diamonds when Mary herself had never had any of her own beyond her worn wedding ring. Perhaps it was the prerogative of all mothers to want the best for their children but expect none of it for themselves.

"You'll have every man in the place eyeing you. And half the women, too."

"Well, what about you? Wait till we get that suit on you-you'll see."

The suit was the color of light through a glass of crème de menthe and closed up the front with four satin frogs. Getting it on Mary took some effort, but together they managed. When the trousers were in place and the jacket was buttoned, Tess said, "I want to put some mascara on you, okay? Wait while I go get the kitchen stool."

There was an old-fashioned dressing table in Mary's bedroom, part of the original bedroom set, but the stool for it was far too low. Tess went into the kitchen and go! the white metal step stool and returned with it to the bedroom.

"Oh, Tess, you don't have to go through all that work for me," her mother scolded.

"No, we're going to do this right. Come over here and sit down."

When Mary was seated before her mirror, Tess powdered her cheeks, brushed them with faint coral blusher and used a little color stick around her eyes. She had her blink across the mascara wand, then used lip liner and applied lipstick with a brush. Niki had done a commendable job, giving Mary a flattering hairstyle that took five years off her age. Her peachy gray hair lay in soft waves tipped up at the ends above her ears.

"Now earrings. I have just the perfect ones." Tess produced a small box of pale aqua, also purchased in New York, and handed it to her mother. When Mary read the single word embossed on the cover she lifted disbelieving eyes to Tess in the mirror.

"Tiffany? Oh, Tess, what have you gone and done?"

"Open it. Happy Mother's Day a little early."

Inside the aqua box was another of black velvet. Mary lifted the lid to reveal a pair of teardrop earrings of emeralds surrounded by diamonds. Her eyes immediately began to well with tears.

"Oh, Tess…"

Standing behind Mary, Tess chafed her mother's upper arms and smiled at her in the mirror. "Mustn't ruin your new makeup job. Go ahead, put them on."

"But, Tess… these are-"

"Yes, I know. But I can afford them, Momma, and since you won't let me build you a new house you'll have to take these instead."

Mary's hands trembled with excitement as she lifted the gems to her ears. When the earrings were in place she stared at her reflection, her breath caught in her throat. She put a hand to her fluttering heart and whispered, "My word."

Tess bent down, put her head beside her mother's and they studied their twin reflections in the mirror. "You're beautiful, too, Momma." At Mary's ears the jewels caught the light from the small dressing table lamps and strewed it across the walls. But the change was wrought by more than the gems. It was everything-the fresh hairdo, the makeup, the elegant cut of the brushed silk and the glittering eyes of a seventy-four-year-old woman who found few occasions in her life that called for dressing up this much anymore. Tess felt the immense satisfaction of watching her mother believe she was beautiful again.

Mary McPhail looked in the mirror and lit up with pleasure. "Thank you, Tess." With their heads on the same level she reached up and touched Tess's jaw lovingly, and Tess smiled at her one last time in the mirror.

"You're welcome. Now let's go knock 'em dead, eh, Ma?" Mary laughed, and Tess said, "I'm going to go switch the cars around and put your wheelchair in the trunk. Wait till I come back before you use those crutches on the back steps, okay?"

"Okay."

She left her mother gazing at herself in the mirror and whispering, "My word, I can't believe this."

Tess hauled the folded wheelchair down the steps and pushed it down the bumpy back sidewalk. As she reached the car a couple of boys wearing bill caps backward on their heads came down the alley toward her, one of them bouncing a basketball. They slowed when they saw her unlocking the Z.

"That your car?" one of them asked.

"Yes, it is."

"Cool."

"Thanks."

"You that country singer?"

"Yes, I am."

"Coo-wull!"

They hung around to watch her get in, start the engine and back the car up, then continued on their way up the alley, playing catch with the basketball. She got Mary's car out, put hers away, opened her mother's trunk and was getting ready to lift the wheelchair when Kenny opened his porch door and yelled, "Hey, Tess, wait! I'll give you a hand with that!"

He strode down the length of his backyard suited up for the wedding in a navy pin-striped suit while she waited beside the open trunk with the folded wheelchair. "You're a lifesaver, Kenny. This thing's heavy." He stowed the chair and slammed the trunk.

"There." He turned, brushing his palms together.

"Thanks."

"Can't have you getting…" His eyes went down to her glistening toes and back up while his palms brushed slower and finally stopped. He never did finish the sentence.

"Nice dress," he said, more quietly.

"Thanks. Nice suit. And that's a Norman Rockwell print on your tie, isn't it?"

He glanced down. "Yes… thanks."

It took a while before either of them spoke again.

He certainly hadn't bought his clothes in Wintergreen, nor had he any idea how his appearance made her blood rush. He knew how to tie a tie and match a tie to a suit and a suit to his body, and he knew how to fix his gaze upon a woman in a way that made her aware of all these things, deep down on a visceral level where she didn't want to be aware.

But if she was aware, he was, too, of his gut-deep sexual attraction to her, and of hers for him. In her silk, jewels and makeup, she stood before him for the first time as the woman he'd seen on the covers of magazines and on country awards shows on TV. Her dress with its simple lines made her look youthful and innocent. It did not cling, but flowed over her bones like the wind over her Z. Its neckline showed the barest hint of collarbones, its hem sliced her modestly at the knee. The diamonds at her ears glinted in the sunlight, and the orb that hung between her breasts looked the more stunning for resting against the rich, deep blue of the silk.

They realized they'd been staring.

Their glances shied away.

"Well," she said, "I'd better get back up to the house. Momma is waiting."