Рита Браун - Sour Puss

"I'm cooked either way, because my car is my old 1998 540i," Ned ruefully said.

"Don't buy another BMW. Not until they dispense with that ridiculous iDrive as well as the ugly bustle on the trunk." BoomBoom loved cars and read four magazines dedicated to the automobile.

"Under the circumstance, I'd say driving a BMW would be political suicide." Ned half-laughed.

"Considering that the German government has criticized our plans in the Mideast, you're right on two counts." Tracy Raz was a keen student of foreign affairs.

"Buy a truck," BoomBoom advised.

"Yes, but, Boom, if you want, you can go out and buy a damned Bentley." Ned was a little frustrated.

"I love my Bentley." Big Mim squared her shoulders.

It should be noted that Big Mim hadmore money than God, whereas Boom-Boom only had enough for an archangel.

"Your Bentley GT is beautiful. But you know I always had trucks because of the business and now it's my only vehicle. I sold my Mercedes two months ago. I don't know why I waited this long to have one set of wheels. God knows, it's easier." BoomBoom glanced over at Alicia, whose lavender-tinted eyes glowed, a feature the camera exploited in her long-ago film days.

"The Cadillac Escalade isn't so bad." Paul de Silva, in his early thirties, liked the big SUV, popular among his generation.

"He can't drive a Cadillac. Not if he wants to go above his present station." Aunt Tally nursed plans for Ned. "It's all silly, I know, but if Ned is going to be our next governor, then he has to be clever about these things."

"I thought I was going to be governor," Little Mim blurted out.

"You are, dear, if the gods are willing, but you're younger than Ned. Let him go first. As for all of us here, party is irrelevant. All that matters is what comes back to Crozet Ned, I presume you want to be governor?" Big Mim asked.

"Uh—"

Susan chirped, "Have you ever known my husband to refuse a pro bono case, an honor, or more work?"

"Am I that transparent?" He was shocked.

"No." Miranda patted his arm. "But politics is the ultimate seduction, you know. One actually believes things will be accomplished. True power comes not from an electorate. 'I can do all things in Him who strengthens me.' Follow that, Ned, and you will achieve what is necessary." Miranda quoted Philippians, Chapter 3, Verse 10.

"Miranda, I thought you'd given up being a religious nut." Aunt Tally minced few words. "And while you're on your feet, Jim, another martini."

"You've had enough." Big Mim glared at the diminutive lady on the sofa.

"Oh, balls, Mimsy. I can't engage in illicit affairs anymore. All the men of my generation are dead, and a young man of seventy Couldn't give me a tumble. I can't ride astride, so I drive that damned buggy. Who can live without horses? I can barely dance. You have no mercy. Gin is comfort. And I did'ntt insult Miranda, because I know that's why you are now hovering over me like a blowfly." She pounded the cane on the rug again.

"I'll fetch you another drink." Little Mim maliciously smiled at her mother. She couldn't help it.

"My beautiful girl here isn't a religious nut, Aunt Tally, but you know how she loves the Good Book." Tracy adored Miranda. "She has most of it memorized. How does she do it?"

"She has most of it memorized because all those years in the post office she would have lost her mind without a mental project." Aunt Tally cast her eyes over to Harry. "And you got out while the getting was good, young lady."

Big Mim's springer spaniel walked into the room, discerned no food would fall on the floor as it had at the dinner table, and padded back out.

Little Mim returned with a fresh martini for Aunt Tally, and Blair, her fiance, bore a small crystal glass filled with olives in case Aunt Tally wanted to pick at them. He'd speared them with tiny silver swords.

"We're off track." Alicia graciously brought them back to Ned's dilemma. "Ned, you haven't asked for my opinion, but given the company, I feel safe in expressing it. Buy a truck. Buy a three-quarter-ton Chevy, Ford, Dodge, doesn't matter, whichever one appeals to you."

"Why not a half-ton?" Harry asked. "Easier to drive and a bit cheaper to run." Harry's gaze rarely strayed from the bottom line, a good habit acquired from decades of living close to the bone.

"He's on the Ag committee. A half-ton is so glamorized these days, it's a city person's flash vehicle." Alicia displayed the sharp insights that had enabled her to survive the slings and arrows—or more often the knives in the back—prevalent in her former acting profession. "If he drives a three-quarter-ton, has a Reese hitch on the back, and is wired for a gooseneck, running lights, a running board, think about it, that's a working farm truck. When he goes down to Lee County the farmer he visits sees another farmer. And in truth, now that Susan is in the nursery business and timber business, he may not exactly be a farmer but he's married to one."

"How smart!" BoomBoom clasped her hands together.

Aunt Tally squinted at the movie star. "You're one hundred percent right, sweet pea."

"Do I have to trade in the 540i?" Ned's voice was mournful.

"No. Just don't ride it to Richmond or thereabouts." Fair, listening all this while, added his two cents. "And if you'll forgive me for changing the subject, did you see in the Richmond paper where Virginia beat out California in a number of wine-tasting events? I think I got that right. Is everyone in the state going to make wine now?"

Big Mim's eyebrows shot upward. "Jim, did you know that?"

"Darlin' girl." He added her pet name. "I did not. Ned, looks like you fell into the honeypot, or should I say the wine tub? You're on the right committee at the right time."

"Make the most of it, Ned," Aunt Tally commanded.

"It takes so much money to start a vineyard," Boom Boom noted. "Anywhere from twelve to eighteen thousand dollars per acre."

"Either you have a good harvest or you don't. Russian roulette, sort of." Little Mim finally interjected something, her mother's gaze having lost its sting as Big Mim accepted that Aunt Tally would have her martini one way or the other.

Ned remarked, "These new people can read all about grapes, they can realize they won't get good yields until the fourth or fifth year, depending on the grape variety and the weather. But they aren't country people. I don't know that they're tough enough. That's why Rollie Barnes impresses me. For all his gargantuan ego, his aggressiveness, he had the sense to know he needed someone like Arch Saunders."

A murmur of agreement filled the room.

"It's the crazy thing about being a farmer, isn't it?" Harry lamented. "You have a bumper crop and prices go down. You suffer through diminished harvests and prices shoot up. I know, I know, it's supply and demand, but when Mother Nature is your business partner, nothing is certain."

"Except uncertainty." Alicia smiled.

They heard the front door open.

"Anybody home?" A deep, resonant voice called out.

Jim hurried to the front hall and within seconds the Reverend Herbert Jones entered the room, Lucy Fur under his arm like a loaf of bread. She didn't much like it.

"Lucy Fur." Harry knew people's pets better than she knew them, really.

The extremely healthy kitty wiggled out of Herb's arms to run to Harry, who picked her up with a grunt.

"She hasn't missed too many meals when she was visiting at my sister's." Herb laughed. "Sorry I missed the lunch, but I needed to pick up the cat from Marty." He mentioned the local vet. "Shot renewal time."

"Let me fix you a plate, Herb." Big Mim kept a good table.

"I would never refuse your hospitality." He winked.

Everyone trooped back to the bright enclosed patio, which served as the luncheon site. They liked being with Herb and succumbed to the temptation of a second dessert.