Chapter 2

Of course, Tracey could always count on her mother to pick at scabs. She heaved a sigh as her mother’s pinched face grew even tighter.

“Well, you say tomato,” her mother hissed, wincing as she used a shoehorn to squeeze into a tight pair of Manolo Blahnik mules.

“What does that even mean, Mother?”

“Dieting was never your strength, but you can turn that around with some work, Tracey. Then maybe you can catch a husband.”

“Gosh, you make a man sound like a disease,” Tracey whispered her reply.

“Your father is trying to persuade the governor to give the proposed expansion of the highway to his friend with that development company. What is his name? Oh, yes, Jeb Collins. He has a son named Trevor. If your father succeeds, there will be plenty of mingling with their family.”

“So what, Mother?”

“So, he might make a match for you. And you can do your part by losing a few pounds. You know, bathing suit season is here—Gertie! You’re here!”