Excerpt: Morning Glory

Mitch sized up the man who had married his childhood pal.
He didn’t like what he saw. On the surface, Osterhaas was the epitome of a man of class and culture, from the expensive suit to the small, tasteful pinky ring. His hair was silvered black -- no surprise there since at forty-two, he was fifteen years older than Glory – and a hint of cruelty lingered in his smile. Unlike his own spouse, Glory’s didn’t show any sign of jealousy – only a detached, cynical amusement.
He wore no wedding ring. Mitch didn’t know why that bothered him but it did, especially when he saw the oversized and gaudy rock on Glory’s left hand.
“Mitch and I grew up together,” explained Glory to those sitting around the low coffee table.
One of the Peabody waiters, as ever alert, noticed the changing dynamics at the table of his favorite patron and silently brought two more chairs. The Randalls sat and Glory gave him a rare smile.
“Thank you, Teddy,” she said.
“Glory does make friends in the strangest places,” said James. “Oh, not you, Mitch. I meant the help.”
“Just wait until we leave,” Anna giggled. “She’ll stop and say goodbye to all the horses pulling the carriages outside.”
Mitch watched Glory battle a flush of embarrassment.
“That’s one of the things I always liked about you,” he said. “You never met a stranger.”
“I don’t know,” James said. “Some are stranger than others.”
Everyone laughed except Mitch and Glory.
It was funny, Glory thought as they caught up on each other’s lives, how we edit ourselves, depending on our audience. For Mitch, she painted a picture of her happy marriage, her social position, her dedication to causes. The ultimate society wife. Childless by choice (his choice!) she thought angrily under a cool smile. Oh, no, there was no time for horses anymore, although she did chair the charity that funded a therapeutic riding program for disabled children. In fact, the only time she even saw a horse nowadays was outside the Peabody, which was probably why she was so foolish about petting them…
And Mitch, her childhood knight, resumed his armor and only told tales of their young lives that made her look good, not silly or stupid. He could have brought up the time she’d cut her hunter’s tail in a layered shag, or the time she wore her jodhpurs to church…
But he didn’t, He talked about Tempest, that foul-tempered love of a horse they’d rescued and restored to health, and he talked about the Franklin show, where she trampled the competition on Tempest’s back, including that snot Anita Hunnicut. Yes, the same Anita Hunnicut who went on to win a silver at the Olympics.
On Tempest, but that never came up in the conversation.