"It can be done. I thought you'd like to get it fixed for the wedding."

"This Niki-she's not from Judy's shop?"

"No, she's not. Judy and her girls are doing all the bridal party that morning so they'll be busy. But she said Niki will do a good job for you."

"Well... my goodness." Mary continued to look amazed.

"That's all right with you then?"

"Well, sure!" she said enthusiastically.

"And, Momma, there's one other thing I wanted to ask you about." This issue was perhaps even more delicate than the hair, but if she didn't bring it up, who would? "You know that pretty green silk trouser suit I sent you last year from Seattle? Have you worn it yet?"

"I tried it on."

"But you haven't worn it."

"Well, it's... it's awfully expensive-I could see that."

"Why don't you wear it for the wedding? It would be perfect, since your legs have to be wrapped in those ugly stockings all the time. What do you say, Momma?"

"I was going to wear this other pants suit that I got last spring. It's perfectly good and I've only worn it a few times."

Tess's first reaction was anger, and she got up and started stacking their dirty dishes, trying to swallow a little lump of hurt that had grown into a stone in her throat. She had a pyramid of dirty dishes in her hands before she changed her mind, set them back down and dropped to one knee beside Mary's chair. "Mom, I need to tell you something that I'm not sure you'll understand, but..." Taking Mary's hand in both of her own she looked up into her mother's aging brown eyes. "Listen, Momma, I don't know how else to say this. I'm rich. May I say it without sounding like I'm blowing my own horn? It's a fact of life now. I'm very, very rich, and it gives me great pleasure to send you things. Nice things from stores you never get to see because you don't get the chance to travel like I do. But it hurts my feelings when you won't even try to use them."

"Oh, dear... well, I... I guess I never thought of that. I just always think those things are too grand for Winter-green, Missouri."

"I'm not sending them for Wintergreen, I'm sending them for you."

Mary sat awhile, looking somber and somewhat stricken. Finally she glanced away, then back at her daughter.

"Well, since you're being honest, let me be honest, too. Sometimes when you send things I think it's because you know you should come to see me yourself, but you're too busy to take the time. Maybe that's why I sometimes don't use them. Because if the truth be told, I'd rather have you than all the fancy presents in the world."

Mary's words stung sharply for they were true, and Tess at last admitted it. How many times had she been charging through some store in a far-off city and spied something for Mary, but while she was waiting for her credit card to be processed a guilty thought would come niggling: You should go see her instead. But it was so much easier to send gifts. It infringed so much less on her busy work schedule.

There were people in this world who had no mothers, who would count themselves blessed to have a loving one like this, yet Tess not only saw Mary less often than she should, she found fault with her vagaries and took issue with petty aggravations that love should overlook. Now here she was, looking up into Mary's face, which appeared decidedly older at this moment. The impression of age was amplified by the limitations put upon her by the new hip, for she sat on the stiff chair with her knees spread and her ankles uncrossed. Her crutches waited at arms' reach and her face was swagged with sadness. Tess could see in the line of Mary's jowls and in the pattern of creases around her eyes and mouth the stamp her own aging would leave upon her face. An unwanted image came, of the day when Tess would be Mary's age, and Mary would be gone. Who knew how many more years they had?

"I'm sorry, Mom," Tess said softly. "I'll try to do better."

Mary reached out and put a hand on Tess's hair. "You know how proud I am of you, don't you, dear?"

Tess nodded with tears in her eyes.

"And I know what it took for you to get where you are. But, Tess, we're your family, and you only get one of those."

"I know," Tess whispered, choked.

They remained in that tableau, each accepting what the other had said, Mary on the stiff, high chair, Tess kneeling to her, the dinner remains spread on the old-fashioned parlor table while the low sun streamed in from the west. Outside, a dog began barking and somebody whistled, silencing him. The details of that moment would come back to both women in the days to come, for they had not felt closer since Tess graduated from high school and loaded up her car to head for Nashville.

"Now I'll tell you what you do," Mary said, forcing brightness into her voice. "You go in my closet and you find that pretty slacks suit that you sent me, and get it ironed up for Saturday, and when this Niki finishes my hair, I'll put it on and do you girls proud at that wedding. How's that?"

Tess stretched up and kissed her mother's cheek. "Thanks, Mom," she said, and smiled.

Tess called Renee later that night after Mary was in bed sound asleep. "I got Momma to agree to leave her old polyester pants suit in the closet." "Oh, Tess, did you really? You're a miracle worker!" "She's wearing the one I sent her from Seattle last year." "Super! It's so beautiful and Rachel will really be happy to hear this. Tess, I owe you one." "That's not all." "Don't tell me she's having her hair done!" "That's what I'm telling you. Right here at home. I hired someone to come in and do it." Without a wisp of jealousy, Renee remarked, "It must be fun to have enough money to be able to do things like that." "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 creme 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."

"Does she need any help?"

"No, I don't think so. All I can do is hold the door for her, but she's got to negotiate the steps by herself."

In spite of her refusal, when she headed to the house he followed, watching her from behind.