Carlotta wore capri pants that hugged her curvy hips, and her narrow waist peeked out from a white cropped top. She was barefoot, her hair tied back in a reckless ponytail, and she wore no makeup. In this private moment when all the glamour was stripped off, Ruth saw an ordinary woman who reminded her a little of Mama, though not so much of herself. If she was the lady who’d given birth to her, it seemed they’d look alike, even a little, right?

Ruth knocked on the door. Carlotta didn’t startle but turned slowly, her smile warming as it did when she stepped onstage. “Hello.”

“I brought you lunch.”

Carlotta moved toward the door in a slow, steady pace. “That was very nice of you.” She pushed open the screened door. “Come inside, Ruth.”

As Ruth moved across the space she’d been in hundreds of times before, she decided it was different, transformed. The dark paneled wood looked lighter with all the sunshine beaming through the windows, and Carlotta’s dresses, hanging from the doorjambs, splashed vibrant greens, reds, and blues around like a carnival. Five sets of high heels lined the hearth, and Ruth wondered what it would feel like to walk in those shoes. She’d wobbled around in her mother’s good shoes, but those heels were low and square.

“You look like you got some sun,” Carlotta said.

“I was helping in the drink hut by the pool. The regular guy hasn’t made it to the Seaside Resort yet, so Mama asked me to help.” She glanced at her brown arm and compared it to Carlotta’s pale skin. “I always take the sun and hang on to it well toward Christmas.”

“Not me. I turn beet red.” A smile tugged the side of Carlotta’s lips. “Your skin is very beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

“Your mother lets you serve drinks?” Her gaze lightened with curiosity and some amusement.

“Sodas, mostly. And a few cocktails.”

“Your mother bends the rules.”

Ruth shrugged. “She says we do what we must. She never lets rules get in the way of practicality.”

“Edna breaks rules?”

“She doesn’t make a fuss when she does it. She said God created black, white, and gray for a reason.”

“Good for her.” Carlotta twisted a hoop earring between her fingers. “What kind of drinks do the ladies like?”

“The mothers like gin and tonic.”

“They look like a gin crowd,” she said.

“I can mix a gin and tonic.” It was important that she acted older than she looked. “Henry taught me. Once he arrives at the hotel, he’ll take over mixing again.”

“And when did he teach you this?”

“A few weeks ago.” Ruth eyed Carlotta and was relieved to see no judgment prowling behind her gaze. The mothers didn’t approve of Mama letting her carry drinks, but that didn’t stop them from ordering. “What does a gin crowd look like?”