A New Attitude
A New Attitude
Charlotte Hughes
Marilee Abernathy's life is a mess. Everyone in Chickpea, South Carolina, knows about her husband's affair with the town floozy.But when her dignified farewell–complete with pearls and impeccably applied Mary Kay cosmetics–turns into a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to hang herself from a fake ceiling beam, Marilee figures there has to be a better way to cope.Marilee needs a new attitude–at least, that's what her neighbor Sam Brewer thinks. Between his demanding mother and his crazy ex-wife, though, the last thing he wants is another woman whose life is out of control. But Marilee's learning on her own that a little attitude can go a long way–suddenly she's taking charge and taking chances she'd never imagined. And watching her blossom reminds Sam of some long-forgotten dreams of his own. Now he's just got to convince her to turn some of that attitude his way….
“Are you still bad to the bone, Sam Brewer?”
Marilee couldn’t resist teasing.
“I must not be too bad if you’re standing out here in the dark with me.”
He stepped closer, and Marilee froze. His face was only inches from hers. He was too handsome for his own good, and for one wild and insane minute she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he reached around and opend her door.
“Good night, Marilee,” he said. “Don’t forget to use the chain on your door until I can fix it.”
She realized she was holding her breath, and when she let it out, hot air gushed from her lungs with such force it made her light-headed. She swayed slightly.
Sam caught her, a look of concern crossing his face. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine,” she said, annoyed that she had been so taken in by his good looks that she’d almost swooned. Swooned, for heaven’s sake! Nobody did that sort of thing anymore.
“You looked mighty nervous there for a moment. You didn’t think I was going to kiss you, did you?” An easy smile played at the corners of his lips.
Charm and sensuality oozed from him. Yes, he was as bad as they came, at least where women were concerned. “You’re still a scoundrel, Sam Brewer.”
Without another word, Marilee hurried inside and closed the door, securing the chain with trembling hands. She heard Sam laugh softly on the other side.
MORE PRAISE FOR THE BOOKS OF CHARLOTTE HUGHES
A New Attitude
“I was howling with laughter at this hilarious book—I highly recommend it.”
—Kathy Boswell, The Best Reviews
“A lighthearted but insightful and entertaining contemporary romance.”
—Romance and Friends
“The funniest book I ever read!”
—Amanda Kilgore, A Romance Review
Hot Shot
“One of the best books of the year…every wonderful character created by Charlotte Hughes is outstanding.”
—Affaire de Coeur (Five Stars)
“A tough-talking, in-your-face heroine…romantic comedy at its best.”
—New York Times bestselling author Janet Evanovich
“A delightful read with very real characters readers can relate to and root for.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub
And After That, The Dark
“One of those Southern Thrillers that never lets up and makes you unable to put it down. It’s exciting enough to even give terror a good name. Charlotte Hughes is the real thing.”
—New York Times bestselling author Pat Conroy
“Hughes holds her own with the likes of Mary Higgins Clark and Sharon McCrumb….”
—Sun News, Myrtle Beach
Dear Reader,
I am thrilled that HQN Books has decided to reissue A New Attitude! This is truly my all-time favorite book, and from the amount of mail I received—a lot of readers asking for a sequel—I think it struck a chord in them, as well. I laughed and cried while writing this book; and it was very hard to let go of some of the characters when I finished it. Some readers have described the humour as “gut-busting” and “belly-aching!” I hope, as you travel the emotional roller coaster with my character Marilee Abernathy and meet her wacky, sometimes outrageous girlfriends, that you’ll find plenty of reasons to laugh (and maybe cry) as well.
Happy reading,
Charlotte Hughes
Other books by Charlotte Hughes
Hot Shot
Millionaire Cop & Mom-To-Be
Night Kills
Valley of the Shadow
And After That, The Dark
Also by Charlotte Hughes with New York Times bestselling author Janet Evanovich
Full Bloom
Full Blast
Full Speed
Full Tilt
Full House
A New Attitude
Charlotte Hughes
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to “girlfriends” everywhere.
Behind every successful woman
there’s a girlfriend cheering her on!
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u9e88685a-ed86-53b2-bad5-08657cd3667e)
CHAPTER TWO (#uda74b877-5e40-5521-b2c0-4b796ef8d9f6)
CHAPTER THREE (#u24874fed-8294-5441-8342-4613012590d7)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u1fe173c5-1d24-527d-b900-8103e0e6c978)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u783e71de-5b57-51a5-88eb-de45e9399967)
CHAPTER SIX (#u7c084a33-322f-527e-8669-ceb8a68d8fa0)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
MARILEE ABERNATHY HAD PLANNED HER suicide to the last detail. She’d gotten up at dawn, showered, and made up her face with the Mary Kay samples she’d won playing Tuesday-night bingo at church and saved for special occasions. Then she’d put on the beige linen suit and matching pillbox hat she’d bought at the Style Mart. It wasn’t Saks Fifth Avenue, mind you, but it was the only place in Chickpea, South Carolina, that didn’t have bright orange or lime-green polyester pantsuits hanging from a half-price rack at the back of the store.
She wore her mother’s pearl choker—you simply couldn’t go wrong with pearls—and the smart, two-tone, beige-and-white high heels she’d never even taken out of the box until today. She knew her shoes were inappropriate. Labor Day had come and gone and dark brown spectator pumps would have been more in keeping with the season, but Marilee had chosen style over tradition. When folks came to her funeral, she wanted them to stand back and take notice.
And say what a shame it was that Reverend Grady Abernathy had abandoned wife and church for some slut with implants and big hair.
As for Josh, Marilee couldn’t even think of her son without getting a lump in her throat the size of a turnip, and the absolute last thing she needed to do was start crying again. Someone might think she’d been crying over Grady, and she simply would not have it. Not after he’d turned their fifteen-year-old child against her and moved the boy right smack into the best little whorehouse in Chickpea. That her son had gone so willingly had been the lowest blow, and the closest Marilee had come to having a coronary.
She should have seen it coming. Josh had accused her of smothering him more than once, wanting to know where he was at all times, sticking her nose in his business, just being a regular pain in the butt as far as he was concerned. Marilee had to admit she’d become something of a nag and a worry-wart. As a result, she’d ended up alienating him—which explained why Josh was now living in Tall Pines Trailer Park with his father and a waitress by the name of LaFonda Bonaire.
The scandal had rocked the town and the church where Grady had preached for the past ten years. His dismissal came with a notice to evacuate the house provided by the church. A stunned and humiliated Marilee had packed their belongings in record time and put everything in storage. She’d been hiding out at her poor deceased parents’ house for the past three days, hoping and praying she would wake up and discover it had all been a bad dream. But it was real. One minute she’d had a family and a life, the next minute it was gone. It was as though a giant tornado had come through and sucked up everything she’d ever known and loved.
But none of that mattered now. What mattered was finding a way to end the pain. And she had thought she’d found it when she had pulled her car into the garage and closed the door with the engine running.
It had seemed like the perfect way to die: sit inside a closed garage with the engine running until she nodded off. Marilee didn’t know squat about carbon monoxide poisoning except that it was supposed to be painless. Like falling asleep.
So why in heaven’s name was she still alive?
She gazed about her vintage Ford. She still held her son’s baby blanket and the rubber duck he’d loved as a toddler. Life had been so much simpler then. Marilee had gotten pregnant on her wedding night. Grady had sent a dozen red roses to the hospital after she’d given birth, even though he was still in seminary school and they were barely making ends meet. She remembered as though it were yesterday the day they brought their newborn home.
Marilee remembered nursing Josh in the middle of the night, when the house was silent and all she could hear were the suckling noises he made. Even now she could close her eyes and conjure up the way he’d smelled, the feel of his downy hair against her cheek. And later, when his eyes lit up each time she walked into the nursery, his chubby arms reaching for her. She had been his world, his universe.
Now he no longer needed her. Funny how one could dismiss another human being so easily.
Marilee’s eyes flooded with tears, and she swiped at them and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The engine wasn’t running. She peered over the steering wheel at the gas gauge. The needle pointed straight up to half a tank. Marilee sighed wearily. Somehow, in all the rigamarole, she’d forgotten about the faulty gas gauge. It had caused her to run out of gas several times over the past six months because she’d thought she had enough fuel to get her home.
Obviously, it had happened again.
Wasn’t that just her luck!
Marilee wrenched open the door to the car and climbed out. There were still enough noxious fumes that she might be overcome after all, but she couldn’t count on it. She needed fuel. She paced a moment and then spied a dull-red gas can sitting in the corner of the garage. She paid a boy to cut her parents’ lawn twice a month. With any luck she’d come up with enough gas to get her to a service station.
The gas tank was empty, and Marilee had to bite back the four-letter word on her tongue. She would not resort to foul language. She planned to leave this world with her morals and dignity perfectly intact. Years from now folks would comment on what a lady she’d been, right up to the bitter end. Marilee noted the lawn mower and hurried over to it. She unscrewed the cap and looked inside. It was full! Her joy was short-lived, though, as she pondered how to get the gas from the lawn mower into the gas can so she could pour it into her tank.
Dang! This suicide business was not as easy as she’d thought it would be.
She walked around the garage, searching. A dusty garden hose was coiled on a shelf at the back. She examined it, but there was no telling how old it was. Her father had never thrown anything away in his life. Still, it should do the job. She went inside the house for a knife so she could slice off a three- or four-foot section. A few minutes later, Marilee was trying to siphon gasoline out of the lawn mower. She swallowed a mouthful, then spent the next few minutes coughing and gagging before she gave it a second attempt. Grady had made it all look so simple the time he’d done it. Once the gas started coming, she quickly moved her end of the hose to the tank, but in her rush, dropped it. She grabbed for it but was a split second too late. Gas spewed everywhere, dousing her hair, face and eyes. It felt like someone had set her eyeballs on fire.
“Hellfire and damnation!” To hell with dignity and morals! Marilee dropped the hose and raced blindly inside the house to the bathroom, where she bathed her eyes in cold water, ruining her perfect makeup and hairdo.
There went all her plans for a fashionable funeral. Irby Denton, who owned the local funeral home, would take one look at her and insist on a closed coffin. Marilee sat on the edge of the tub and wept. And here she thought she’d used up all her tears.
Where had she gone wrong? What had she done to Grady to make him hate her so? How could two people who’d once been so much in love, who’d vowed to God and themselves they’d never part, suddenly find themselves in such a mess?
It had to be the flannel nightgowns she wore to bed. And the floppy socks that kept her feet warm during the night. It was no wonder he’d left her. She’d failed her husband. She’d let herself go. Chased him right smack into the arms of another woman.
LaFonda Bonaire was probably allergic to flannel.
Finally, Marilee composed herself. She returned to the garage and shook her head at the sight. What a mess. Leaning against her car and feeling defeated, she could just imagine what Grady would say.
“Marilee,” he’d say, “if you had a brain you’d have to wear a warning label.”
Grady had never talked to her like that in the early years. He’d referred to her as his Sweet Pea. “Sweet Pea,” he’d say, “you are a sight to behold in that new dress,” or “Sweet Pea, what did you think of my sermon today?”
Now she was just plain old Marilee, who was rewarded with a weary sigh from him when she asked the simplest question. “Marilee, I don’t have time to worry about the Easter pageant. That’s your job.” Sigh. “Marilee, why are you bothering me with questions about the Christmas cantata when you know I have to prepare my sermon?” Another sigh. Or, “Marilee, why on earth would you serve taco salads at the senior citizens’ dinner when you know elderly people can’t eat spicy food? Have you any idea how many complaints I’ve received? I swear, Marilee, if you had a brain, you’d have to wear a warning label.”
There were times she felt she couldn’t do anything right, no matter how hard she worked. What about all the seniors’ dinners that had been successful? And had Grady forgotten just how many visitors they had at Easter and Christmas? Of course she wanted everything to go right. Some of those visitors became members.
She shook her head sadly. Maybe Grady was right. What did she know about anything? She gave a sniff. Not that Grady was some kind of genius, mind you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gotten kicked out of the church for sleeping with a woman who had a tattoo on her fanny that read Easy Rider. At least that’s what Darlene Milburn claimed, and she should know since she taught water aerobics at the YMCA. Darlene had “excused” LaFonda from class for wearing a thong bikini, of all things.
Another woman. That was the absolute last thing she had expected of him.
Marilee wondered if Grady’s recent diagnosis of high blood pressure had something to do with the change that had come over him. Seemed he was always tired and out of sorts or feeling under the weather. Her mother had long ago accused him of being a hypochondriac and although Marilee had defended him, there’d been times she’d thought the same thing. Lately, he’d become so moody she’d found herself tiptoeing around him. Then one day, right out of the blue, he told her he planned to leave the ministry.
Looking back, Marilee was surprised she hadn’t tried to kill herself sooner.
With a heartfelt sigh, she stood and walked into the living room. The place was gloomy and musty from being closed up for so long, and she hadn’t had the heart to do anything about it the past few days, hadn’t wanted to remember how warm and inviting the house had been when her parents were alive. Grady had wanted her to sell it once her mother passed on; he resented the utility bills they received every month for a place that had been closed up for two years. “You’ll never find closure until you let go of that house,” he’d said more than once. But Marilee had resisted. She’d planned to put it on the market later, when property values went up, then use the money to send Josh to college.
Sheets covered the furniture and the old piano where she had once practiced her scales under the tutelage of Mrs. Sadie Habersham until her behind felt as if it were growing into the piano bench. The wooden floors wore a thick layer of dust. Heavy brocade drapes locked out the early-morning sun. Lord, but they were ugly, what with those thick cords twisted together like a bunch of snakes in mating season. The tassels looked as though they belonged in a bordello. What had her mother been thinking? They’d obviously been on sale, because one thing Hester Brown had never been able to pass up was a K mart blue-light special or a clearance table.
Wait a minute…Cords?
Marilee stepped closer and examined them. Three nylon strands were braided to make one thick cord. She tugged hard. The fabric was still good and strong. She glanced up at the beam that ran beneath the raised ceiling, her mind working frantically. Her answer was right in front of her.
She would hang herself!
Marilee hurried into the kitchen, to the junk drawer where her mother had kept everything that would fit and crammed in those things that hadn’t. She found a pair of scissors and went to work. Each cord was about five feet long when she pulled the drapes open. She cut four lengths from the living-room drapes before making her way into the master bedroom and guest rooms, where the same drapes, different only in colors and degrees of ugliness, hung. It was no easy task cutting through the cords, and by the time she finished, she wore a blister at the base of her thumb. Gathering them together, Marilee realized she had enough cord to hang a gang of outlaws.
Grady had underestimated her. He figured since she’d never earned a college degree that he was the smarter of the two. It didn’t matter that the reason she hadn’t earned a degree was that she’d had to work two jobs to support them while he went to seminary school. Not that she’d minded. They were a team, working toward a future. Even when Grady sometimes felt he wasn’t meant to preach, she would reassure him, bolster his self-confidence. Wasn’t that part of being a wife and team member?
Once he’d become a pastor, she’d devoted her time to church activities. She’d been good at it too, or so she’d thought, until Grady began complaining about every little thing she did. It only made her more determined to work harder. Even if Grady found her lacking, others claimed she was the veritable backbone of Chickpea Baptist Church.
A lot of good it did her now.
Marilee sat on the sofa and began tying the cords together. The frayed tassels clashed with her outfit something awful, but she had no choice. An hour later, she had a sturdy, if gaudy-looking, hangman’s noose. She spent the next ten minutes trying to throw the noose over the beam, and was about to give up before she remembered the ladder in the garage. It could also be used as her jumping-off place.
Heavens, but she could be brilliant at times!
Marilee dragged the ladder inside the house and placed it beneath the beam. Holding one end of the cord between her teeth, she began climbing. Okay, so the ladder was a little wobbly. She suddenly remembered her fear of heights and became angry with herself. She didn’t have time to fret about every little thing.
Pausing halfway up, she attempted once again to throw the noose over the beam, all the while struggling to hang on to the ladder. Finally! She tied it so it wouldn’t pull free. Marilee knew how to tie just about every kind of knot there was, thanks to Josh’s stint in the Boy Scouts.
Crouching at the top of the ladder, she slipped the noose around her neck. Her hands trembled. She had no idea how much it was going to hurt, but the pain could be no worse than what she was feeling inside.
With an angry burst of determination, Marilee stood straight up. And banged her head on the ceiling beam with such force she almost fell off the ladder. In fact, she would have, had she not grabbed the beam to steady herself. The room spun wildly beneath her and she felt her eyes cross. Her skull throbbed. Afraid she’d given herself a concussion, Marilee stood there, trying to clear her head. The floor seemed miles away. It felt as if she was standing on top of Chickpea’s water tower, where she and Grady had sneaked up the night she’d turned sixteen. They’d kissed under the stars and promised to love one another forever.
Forever. So why, at age thirty-five, was she all alone in the world?
Marilee swallowed the lump in her throat. Well, she wasn’t really alone. She had friends who loved her, people who were probably worried sick about her this very moment. And she had a son. He might not like her right now, but what if he—heaven forbid—ended up blaming himself for her suicide? Josh would have to spend his entire life living with it.
What if he was just going through a stage and didn’t really hate her? What if there was the slightest chance of reconciliation?
What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she seen enough suffering in her life to know that everybody got a dose of it now and then? Parents died, kids rebelled, husbands cheated. And here she was, standing on top of this shoddy ladder with a noose around her neck and what could possibly be a serious head injury. Not only that—her best outfit and makeup were ruined, her shoes were all wrong and she smelled like a Texaco station.
She was being weak and selfish, Marilee told herself. She needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and start working on her problems, namely getting her son out of that den of iniquity. She needed to clean up her parents’ house, find a job and show folks that she was made of tougher stuff than this! And she was tough, dang it. As a minister’s wife, she had sat with the dying, comforted the bereaved and brought smiles to nursing-home patients who felt neglected, of no use to the world and wanted to die. “The Lord has a purpose for us all,” Marilee had told them. “He will bring us home when he’s ready. Until then, we must have faith.”
She was glad those poor people couldn’t see her now, those who were old and sick and in pain. She was young and healthy and had every reason to live. It didn’t feel that way right now, but tomorrow she might see things differently.
Tomorrow. She suddenly realized she wanted to wake up to another day, no matter how bleak the future seemed at the moment.
But first she had to get down this ladder in one piece.
Her mind made up, Marilee tried to decide the best way to descend without ending up in a wheelchair and sporting a handicapped sticker on her car. Working up her last nerve, she oh so slowly knelt at the very top, trying to balance herself like a seal on a large ball. Her high heels proved a serious hindrance, and she decided she had to remove them. Somehow. Still perched precariously, Marilee tried to slip one off, but the ladder gave a shudder and veered right. Quickly she leaned in the opposite direction but overcorrected. Dang, she thought, only a split second before she lost her balance and toppled.
She had been so intent on getting down she had forgotten to take off the noose. Now it snapped tight around her neck. She was only vaguely aware of a noise overhead, and then it sounded as if the whole house was crashing down around her. Poor Josh. It was her last thought. Something hit her on the head, and then there was blackness.
SAM BREWER WAS IN A FOUL MOOD. As he grabbed a shovel from the garage and carried it to his mother’s flower bed, he could only imagine what the neighbors were saying as they peered out the windows at him. Without a doubt, Edna-Lee Bodine from across the street had her nose pressed flat against the windowpane this very moment, watching and fogging up the glass.
“There goes Sam Brewer digging in his mother’s flower bed again,” she’d tell her husband, who kept his own nose buried in a newspaper. “No telling what that old bat has gone and buried this time.” There were times Sam wished his mother would bury Mrs. Bodine in the flower bed. “And just look at him,” Edna-Lee would say. “Why, he looks like a derelict. No telling when he last shaved or combed his hair.”
Sam knew he looked like hell, but how was he supposed to groom himself when almost everything he owned was buried? His mother had set out to make a point, and she’d done just that. After all, her great-great-grandmother had buried the family silver to protect it from the Yankees during the Civil War; Nell Brewer had decided it was up to her to protect their belongings from “Nurse Ratched,” as she referred to her latest caretaker, whom she claimed was stealing. Sam had to admit the retired nurse had the personality of a troll, but his mother had managed to run off several of her “companions” over the past six months. This latest one had stormed off the minute she caught wind of the accusations against her, just as his mother knew she would.
Now he was saddled with the chore of finding someone new, despite claims from his mother that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. That hadn’t been the case six months ago, when she’d insisted she was going blind and losing her mind and needed him there. He’d sold his construction company in Atlanta and moved home to Chickpea so he could personally look after her. Truth was, he’d been looking to leave the rat race behind and find a simpler life anyway. Now he was building single-family dwellings with an old high-school buddy, and Sam rather liked it that way.
Except that his mother was driving him crazy.
Why did women have to be so difficult?
That reminded him of what a royal pain in the butt his ex-wife was. It didn’t matter that they’d been divorced five years now. Shelly still called him for every little thing and was constantly borrowing money, despite the healthy alimony check he sent every month.
Seemed there was no way to win, especially where the opposite sex was involved.
With a muttered oath, Sam searched for a fresh mound of dirt that might produce his electric shaver and the iron he needed to press his shirt before he met with an architect in an hour. He drove the shovel into the soft ground and struck something solid. He pulled a plastic bag from the dirt. Ah-ha! He’d found his electric shaver, perfectly intact. At least his mother was thoughtful enough to wrap everything before sticking it into a hole in the ground. Nevertheless, it had to stop. Yesterday it had been his combs and toothbrush, which was why he looked like the world’s biggest slob.
He stabbed the dirt once more, just as a piercing scream ripped through the late-morning air, jolting his already strained nerves. Dropping the shovel, he lunged toward his house before he realized the sound had come from the Browns’ next door. He stopped, shook himself and turned in the opposite direction.
Sam jumped the hedges separating the properties and raced across the lawn like a marathon runner, skirting bushes and a large cast-iron pot that had gone to rust. He’d assumed the house was vacant. At least, he hadn’t noticed anyone coming or going. But it was of little concern to him as he took the front steps in one leap. He crossed the porch and knocked. No answer. The door was locked.
The scream still echoing in his mind, he knew he had no choice but to break down the door. He braced himself and rammed it hard. Pain ripped through his shoulder, radiated down his arm and arched across his back, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. He slammed against the door once more, and the sound of splintering wood told him he’d succeeded.
Stepping inside, Sam crossed a small foyer and stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the sight before him.
The woman on the floor appeared dead. Sam stumbled toward her prostrate body, stepping over Sheetrock as he went, his mind uncertain of what he was actually seeing. He noted the noose around her neck, made of what appeared to be a dozen multicolored tassels. The woman’s face and clothes were dusted in white, as though someone had just dumped a sack of flour on her head. He glanced up and saw that a portion of what was obviously a fake beam had been torn away. Had she hanged herself? Sure as hell looked like it.
Without wasting another second, Sam dropped to his knees, loosened the noose and performed CPR. He felt her stir and raised his head, inhaling deeply as he prepared to blow more air into her lungs.
MARILEE OPENED HER EYES, TAKING in the man before her, and her heart sank. From the looks of his unshaved jaw and wild black hair, she could only assume she’d died and landed in hell. She suspected angels took better care of themselves.
She tried to speak, but her throat hurt. “Excuse me,” she managed in a hoarse whisper. “Are you the devil?”
Sam stared at the woman for a full minute, trying to make sense of what she’d said. She was obviously delirious. Her face was pale. No telling how long that noose had been around her neck. Could very well have blocked desperately needed oxygen to her brain. “Where’s your phone?” he asked hurriedly. “I need to call an ambulance.”
Marilee’s eyes widened. Phone? Ambulance? She was alive! Relief flooded her, and she wondered again why she’d ever considered ending her life in the first place. To think she’d almost succeeded! Wasn’t that just her luck? Just when she’d found the strength to go on living, she’d come close to killing herself by accident.
She bolted upright, trying to disentangle herself from the cords and tassels. “Please don’t call anyone,” she said, too embarrassed to look at the stranger, even as she wondered how he happened to be there. “You have no idea what I’ve already been through.”
“You need medical attention, lady.” And a damn good psychiatrist, he thought. This woman made his mother’s antics seem normal.
“I’m fine, really.” Marilee scrambled to her feet but swayed, no doubt from the two head injuries she’d received. He caught her up before her legs, which felt as if they were made of mashed sweet potatoes, folded beneath her. The noose, still around her neck although no longer constricted, was an annoyance, but she was more concerned with the sudden pain in her ankle as she tried to steady herself. “I think I twisted my ankle,” she said. “I must’ve landed on it wrong. Other than that, I’m okay.” Well, not really, she thought. Her head throbbed. It felt as though the state of Texas was sitting on top of her skull.
All at once, Marilee realized the man was still holding her in his arms. The way Grady had held her when he’d carried her over the threshold on their wedding night. Oh, this was all wrong, she thought. It was simply not done. Why, it reeked of impropriety, and Marilee Abernathy had been raised a lady. Her poor mother was probably rolling over in her grave at this very moment.
“Please put me down, sir,” she said in her best well-bred voice.
He eased her to the floor. “Can you stand?”
“Why, I certainly can.” She pulled free of him and drew herself up primly, dusting off her clothes and taking care not to put all her weight on her sore ankle. “My, I must look a mess. You’ll have to excuse my appearance.”
Sam looked on in disbelief as she hobbled about, holding her head as though afraid it would fall off and trying to walk out the soreness in her foot. The still-attached noose dragged a piece of the ceiling beam after her. “It would probably be easier for you to get around if you removed that noose from your neck,” he said, sarcasm creeping into his voice. His initial fear had waned, now that he knew she wasn’t going to be carried out in a body bag, and he suddenly felt like shaking her.
Marilee regarded him as she fumbled with the tassels. “There is no cause for rudeness. I’m obviously ill-prepared to receive guests at this time, so perhaps we can meet again under more favorable circumstances.” Yes, that’s what she’d do. She’d whip up her special chicken salad and cucumber sandwiches and invite him to a little housewarming gala once she managed to get the place in shape. But she could not worry about that right now. She had more important business to take care of.
Sam gazed back in pure astonishment as realization hit him. “Marilee Brown,” he said, wondering why he hadn’t recognized her the minute he’d laid eyes on her. She was still as pretty as she’d been in high school. Her hair, the color of ripened wheat, was shorter, barely touching her shoulders and turning under slightly at the ends. Her eyes were the same sparkling blue, and she hadn’t lost the figure that had looked so good in a cheerleader’s skirt and the gown she’d worn when she’d been crowned homecoming queen.
“And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop looking at me as though I’m crazy,” she went on. “I’m perfectly sane, and I wouldn’t be in such a predicament had I not been pushed to the brink. The absolute brink,” she added, waving her arms dramatically as she almost shouted the words. She paused abruptly. He knew her maiden name. “Have we met?”
He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t remember him. “I grew up next door. We went to the same high school.” His mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “We didn’t exactly run with the same crowd.”
“You’re Nell Brewer’s son,” Marilee said at last. “Sam.”
“So you remember.” He wondered just how much she remembered.
Marilee had a sudden image of a good-looking adolescent with dark hair and what mothers had called bedroom eyes in those days. Those brown eyes, heavily lidded with thick, dark lashes, gave him a lazy, come-hither look that had lured more than one high-school girl into the back seat of his car. “Stay away from that boy,” her own mother had warned. “You so much as walk on the same side of the street with him, and you can kiss your reputation goodbye. And you can’t blame his parents. They’re decent, God-fearing Christians.”
His father had died in Sam’s senior year, and the teenager had quit school in order to support his mother. Marilee vaguely remembered he’d worked construction. Somehow, though, he’d still managed to get into one scrape after another. Then, like a bad wind, he was suddenly gone. The town of Chickpea assumed he’d been sent to prison.
“Yes, I remember,” Marilee replied, thankful she had packed her mother’s silver and put it in a safe place long ago. “It’s, uh, nice seeing you again, Sam. As you must have surmised by now, my life has taken a turn for the worse since I last saw you. Nothing I can’t handle, of course, but thanks for stopping by just the same.”
He was being dismissed. Was she crazy? She had just attempted to hang herself, and now she acted as though it was an everyday occurrence and he was in the way. Sam raked his fingers through his hair, wondering what he should say or do. The situation felt unreal, as though he’d just landed in a scene in one of his mother’s favorite soaps.
“Look, Marilee, I don’t know what your problem is, but I think you need to talk to someone. Nothing is worth ending your life over.”
“I realize that now,” she said with disdain, still trying to free herself from the noose.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Sam offered. He struggled with the tassels. She obviously knew her way around knots. Finally, he pulled it free and tossed the makeshift rope aside. He leaned closer and sniffed. “Do I smell gasoline?” he asked. “Please don’t tell me you were planning to set yourself on fire.”
“Do I look deranged?”
He arched one dark eyebrow but decided not to answer. The noose had chafed the tender skin at her neck. She brushed plaster dust from her face, and he couldn’t help noticing her complexion was still youthful and unblemished, as if she belonged in one of those skin-care commercials. It unnerved him to think just how close she’d come to dying.
Marilee noticed he was staring. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a red welt on your neck.”
“Trust me, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me in the past few days. I’ll deal with it, okay? Just…please go.” She was near tears, and the last person she wanted to see her cry was Sam Brewer, who didn’t seem to like her very much in the first place.
“You’re lucky to be alive, you know. If that beam hadn’t collapsed, you’d be dangling like a puppet right now with your eyes bulging out of their sockets.”
“What?” Marilee drewback. The mere thought horrified her.
“You obviously don’t know what a hanging victim looks like.”
“Well, no.”
“They mess their pants, and their tongue hangs out and turns purple.” Sam wondered what had made him go and say something like that, but he was annoyed with her. Pissed off, actually, now that the initial shock of finding her had worn off. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Marilee shuddered at the mental picture he’d drawn for her, and she was doubly glad to be alive. “I wasn’t really going to go through with it.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
She glared at him. Did he think she did this sort of thing on a regular basis? Could he not see that she was coming apart at the seams? He had no right to pass judgment on her. “Look, you’ve done your good deed for the day, so why don’t you run along now. I can pay you for your trouble if you like.”
She had a mouth on her, and that surprised him. She’d always seemed so prim and proper, always doing and saying the right thing. “What do you suppose your life is worth, Miss Brown?”
“At this moment? About ten cents. And my name is not Miss Brown. It’s Mrs. Abernathy.”
“Ah, yes, you married that Grady fellow. He was into sports, right?”
She gave a rueful smile. “He is still something of a sportsman.”
“A football player, if I remember correctly.” He remembered well. The Golden Boy, they’d called him. Folks in Chickpea could speak of nothing else his senior year. “Wasn’t he offered a full scholarship to Duke University?”
“Yes, but he went into the seminary instead.”
“I see.”
“He’s quite popular with some members of his flock,” Marilee said, offering him a tight-lipped smile. “You might say he takes a hands-on approach to those who are most troubled.” Sam nodded as she spoke, as though trying to make sense of the situation. But how could he possibly understand? “Uh, look, Sam, I’d really appreciate it if you’d keep this little matter between us. You know how it is, small town and all.”
“I wouldn’t think of embarrassing you. But how do I know you won’t stick your face in the oven the minute I walk out the door?”
“I’m a grown woman, and I can take care of myself,” she replied stiffly. She paused to get a grip on her emotions. He had probably saved her life, and she should be grateful, but she needed time to gather her thoughts. The experience had been harrowing. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I promise not to hurt myself again.”
“I hope you’re sincere,” he said at last, offering his hand to seal the bargain. Marilee paused before taking it. It was big and warm, the palm toughened by the work he did. They shook. “We’ve got a deal,” he said. “I expect you to honor it.” He was surprised by the self-deprecating smile that touched her lips. She had always seemed so confidant, so self-assured. Who had hurt her so badly? he wondered, feeling oddly protective of her.
He released her hand. The last thing he needed to do was get involved in her troubles. She was a married woman, and he had his hands full trying to keep up with his mother and a new business. That reminded him of the architect who was supposed to drop by later. “I’d better go.” He made for the door, paused and turned. “Uh, Marilee?”
“Yes?” Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment she felt completely disoriented. She blinked, trying to make sense of the strange sensations sweeping through her. What was going on here? Had she killed off some brain cells when the noose tightened around her neck? Or perhaps she did have a concussion and didn’t know it. Either way, she was suddenly acutely aware of him as a man, the tall, athletic physique and broad shoulders. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at his eyes. They were observant. Was he aware that she was looking at him in that way? No wonder the girls at Chickpea High had followed him around like puppies. She cast her own eyes downward, certain that no decent woman would stare so blatantly at a man. And her married to boot!
“I know this is a bad time,” he said, “but do you happen to have an iron I could borrow?”
At first she thought she’d misunderstood. “An iron?”
He nodded. “I’ve misplaced mine. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone making such a request at a time like this, but from the looks of his clothes an iron was exactly what he needed. Not to mention a hairbrush and razor. “Yes, of course. Just give me a second to find it.” Marilee hurried to the utility room, thankful for the reprieve. She had to gather her wits about her or the man would sure enough think she had lost her mind.
The iron was on a shelf next to the spray starch and laundry detergent. Marilee leaned her head against the shelf, feeling as though she needed to bang it hard and clear the muddle inside. In all her married life she had never once looked at another man. Well, not the way she was looking at Sam Brewer.
Lord help her.
Marilee took a deep breath, raised her head and reached for the iron. She dusted it off and retraced her steps to the living room. “It hasn’t been used in a while,” she said, her voice sounding stiff and unnatural. She had to get him out of there if it was the last thing she did. “I hope it still works.”
“I really appreciate this.”
He looked so grateful that Marilee wondered if there was a shortage of irons in Chickpea. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll return it as soon as I’m finished.”
“Keep it as long as you like,” she said quickly, in no hurry to face him again after what had transpired.
Sam was reluctant to leave her, but he had no choice. “I’m, uh, just next door if you need something.”
“Thank you.” Marilee walked him to the door, noting the damaged trim. “Oh my.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “When I heard you scream I broke in. I can fix it. And the ceiling beam.”
“No, please, you’ve done enough.” In a matter of minutes he’d turned her upside down and inside out. That was more than enough after the kind of day she’d had.
“Well then, I’d better get going.” He started down the front walk, glancing over his shoulder for one last look. She stood at the door, watching him. He wondered if she remembered visiting when his father died. She and her mother had taken food over, offering their sincere condolences. They’d even attended the funeral. Both of them had been so kind to his mother, and Marilee had sought him out in the crowd and told him how sorry she was. She had done her best to console him when all he could think of was how angry he felt at losing his dad. He had never forgotten her caring nature.
Sam waved and crossed the yard to his own property.
Marilee closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. If she didn’t get a grip on herself she was going to suffer a bad case of the vapors, just like her grandmother used to do when the worms ate her tomato plants. Here she was, ogling her sexy neighbor as if he was something out of a box of Godiva chocolates, when what she needed to be doing was deciding what to do with the rest of her life.
CHAPTER TWO
MARILEE HAD BEEN CLEANING nonstop for several hours when the doorbell rang. She hesitated before opening the door, afraid that it was Sam Brewer, returning the iron. She was a mess, having changed into old gray sweats and sneakers, and she smelled of disinfectant. Marilee would almost prefer giving Sam the dang iron, just to keep from facing him again. In fact, she was tempted not to answer the door at all, but after three rings she realized she had no choice. When she opened it, she found her best friends, Clara Goolesby and Ruby Led-better, standing on the other side.
“Marilee, you have a lot of explaining to do,” Clara said, frowning so hard her black eyebrows touched in the center, as though someone had drawn a straight line across her forehead with a black marker. Her short hair, dyed black as crow’s feathers to hide the gray, stood in tufts, a sure sign that she was upset, because she had a habit of plucking the ends when she was anxious about something. The town librarian, Clara was usually quiet and reserved, the exception being when she discovered food spills or dog-eared pages on her beloved books. Then she was a menace.
“Darn right she owes us an explanation,” Ruby echoed, crossing her arms over her breasts. She was a diminutive blonde, no bigger than a minute but a formidable opponent when riled. As owner of Classy Cuts Hair Salon, she was a shrewd businesswoman who tried to stay one step ahead of her competition, Martha Grimes, who ran The Hair Affair.
“What in heaven’s name were you thinking, Marilee?” Clara insisted. “How could you just disappear on us like that, without telling us where you were going? If it hadn’t been for my exceptional memory, we’d never have found you.”
Ruby looked at Clara. “Your exceptional memory? Hell’s bells, Clara, we searched for almost seventy-two hours before you thought of coming here.”
“That may be true, Ruby, but I’m the one who remembered how Marilee couldn’t bear to sell this place after her poor sweet mama died. And you don’t have to resort to foul language to get your point across.”
Marilee looked from one woman to the other. “Is something wrong?”
Both women gaped at her. Clara drew herself up and sniffed as though she smelled something foul. “Did you forget you were supposed to play the piano at the Grace Blessing Home benefit luncheon on Saturday?”
Marilee gasped. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes! We had more than two hundred women show up from six counties who paid twenty bucks to eat overdone roast beef and listen to you play Mozart on Richard Griffin’s baby grand piano.” She paused to catch her breath. “And after all we went through to get that piano inside the school auditorium and pay to have it tuned. Well,” she added in a huff, “Alma Jones ended up playing hymns, and the poor thing is so old she’s tone deaf. Marilee, how could you!”
“Yes, how could you!” Ruby seconded. “We had a devil of a time getting that piano back to Mr. Griffin. Not to mention having to pay for another tuning.”
Clara nodded. “And that’s not the half of it. We collected almost a thousand dollars selling raffle tickets, but guess who still has the pure silver antique candelabra in the trunk of her car?”
Marilee paled instantly. Not only had she forgotten about the benefit luncheon, she hadn’t remembered that she held the prize for the winning raffle ticket. She felt a wave of panic wash over her. And just when she’d decided to get her life in order and start afresh.
“You can just imagine how mad Esmerelda Cunningham was over the whole thing,” Ruby said. “Especially since she donated that dumb candelabra and claimed it’d been in her family since before Jesus was born.”
“Ruby!” Clara frowned and shook her head, then turned her attention back to Marilee. “Esmerelda said we had twenty-four hours to collect the candelabra or she was going to have you arrested.”
“Arrested!” Marilee cried. “Does she think I stole it?” Her heart began to beat faster. After all that had happened, the last thing she needed was to go to jail.
Clara shifted her gaze. “We didn’t know what to think. Especially with Grady getting fired from the church over some…well, you know.” Clara paused, as though trying to come up with the right word.
“Two-bit whore?” Ruby offered.
Clara cut her eyes at the woman. “Honestly, Ruby, the things you say.”
“Esmerelda said you probably hocked that candelabra and hightailed it out of town,” Ruby said. “Not that anybody’d really blame you, after all you’ve been through.”
Clara gave an embarrassed cough. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go into that right now, Ruby.”
Marilee was still hurt over Esmerelda Cunningham’s accusations. Esmerelda was Chickpea’s wealthiest citizen and the closest thing to royalty the town had ever seen. Marilee, who’d been involved with the fund-raiser since its conception, had personally asked the woman for a donation and had discovered she was not only a snob but stingy as well. Esmerelda had agreed to part with her beloved candelabra, but she’d been none too pleased about it.
Her first thoughts were of Grady. He could handle Esmerelda. But no, Grady was no longer in the picture. It was up to her. Her. She suddenly realized just how many problems Grady had taken care of in their sixteen years of marriage. Now they were her problems. Her moment of truth hit her in the face like a lead pipe. She was now solely responsible for her own life. That in itself was enough reason to pawn the candelabra and leave town.
Clara plucked at her hair. “No Mozart, no raffle prize. Can you imagine how utterly ridiculous we felt?”
“And Benson Contractors walked off the job this afternoon for nonpayment,” Ruby told her. “Bobby Benson said he wasn’t going to make any more repairs to Blessing Home until he was paid—in full.”
“What about the roof?” Marilee asked frantically.
Clara shook her head sadly. “The money we raised won’t come close to covering it. Bobby nailed plastic over the holes in the roof and left without so much as a fare-thee-well.”
“We’ll never be able to come up with that kind of money,” Ruby said. “Not legally, anyway.”
Marilee sank into the nearest chair. “I am so sorry.” She was close to tears. They had been working for weeks to raise funds for the unwed mothers’ home, and she had let everybody down.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find lodging for twelve pregnant girls in a town this size?” Clara asked, tapping the toe of her shoe impatiently. “My place is no bigger than a shoebox, and I’ve had two seventeen-year-old expectant mothers living with me for weeks now. Then, today, they get into a catfight, and one of them packs her bags. Which reminds me—”
“I would gladly take the girl in,” Ruby interrupted, “but my place is smaller than Clara’s.”
Marilee jumped up from her chair and started toward the kitchen. “I’ll call Bobby Benson right now and explain.”
Clara turned to close the door, then paused at the sight of splintered wood. Instead of saying anything, she merely shook her head, as though nothing would surprise her at this point.
Ruby followed Marilee. “Bobby left town this afternoon for a week-long fishing trip.”
“How could you do this to us?” Clara repeated. “I’m so mad I can’t stand it. Why, I feel like slapping somebody.”
“Slap Marilee,” Ruby said, “if it’ll make you feel better.”
Marilee stepped closer. “Go ahead. It certainly beats having my head chewed off.”
Clara drew herself up proudly. “I happen to be a lady, and I prefer to act like one, even if you did let us down.”
“Enough, already!” Marilee cried, feeling as though she might pull her hair out any minute. “You’ve made your point. I blew it!”
Both women stared at her openmouthed. “Dear, you don’t have to shout,” Clara said. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with our hearing.”
Marilee planted her hands on her hips. “I know the two of you are going to find this hard to believe, but I’ve been preoccupied the past few days. My life has completely fallen apart, so I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack.”
“What Grady did was despicable,” Ruby said gently, only to have Clara nudge her hard. “Oh, Clara, stop it. We have to talk about it. We can’t just pretend it never happened.” She walked over and hugged Marilee. “Honey, how did you find out?”
“Grady told me,” she said calmly. “Said he had feelings for another woman and was tired of living a lie. Said he didn’t belong on the pulpit. Josh overheard the whole thing. By the time Grady met with the church board and received his dismissal, Josh had packed his father’s clothes, as well as his own.”
“Oh, Marilee, how awful for you,” Clara said.
“You must’ve started packing as well,” Ruby said. “By the time Clara and I heard the news, you’d already up and gone.”
“I was too embarrassed to stay. All I could think of was coming here.”
Clara’s look softened. “I wouldn’t really have slapped you.” She paused. “Marilee, what happened to your neck?”
“What I want to know is what happened to that ceiling beam?” Ruby said, glancing up.
Marilee gave a grunt of disgust. “I tried to hang myself.”
Clara gasped. “Marilee, how can you say such a thing?”
Ruby shot her a dark look. “That’s not a bit funny. Not one bit.”
“Hang yourself, indeed,” Clara quipped.
Marilee realized she’d gone too far. She must be hysterical. “I’m sorry. Truth is, I have termites. As for my neck, I think my mother’s pearl choker caused a rash.” She was surprised how easily the lies slipped from her lips.
“That’s the very reason I don’t wear jewelry,” Clara announced. “It makes me break out every time. As for those termites, you’d better have someone take care of it right away. I’ve heard what kind of damage they can do. You wouldn’t believe what happened to my cousin.”
Ruby frowned and shook her head. “Hush, Clara. The last thing Marilee needs to hear is one of your horror stories about what happened to somebody in your family. Can’t you see the poor girl has enough on her mind? Her husband has dumped her for a woman with tangerine-colored hair, and her son wants nothing to do with her. Why, folks can talk of nothing else. I don’t know how poor Marilee will ever be able to show her face in public again. I think she can wait a couple of days before worrying about stupid termites.”
Marilee’s look was deadpan. “Thank you, Ruby. I feel much better now that you’ve put it all into perspective for me.”
“You’re welcome, honey.”
“I suppose we shouldn’t have been so hard on you because you forgot the benefit,” Clara said. “I wouldn’t be so upset if Esmerelda hadn’t caused such a ruckus. And then those pregnant girls had to get into a snit with one another. I had to break it up. Which reminds me—”
“Grady has lost his mind,” Ruby declared. “It’s that blood pressure thing. The minute a man has health problems he has to go out and prove to himself he’s still got what it takes. You ask me, I think the scare brought on his midlife crisis. Either way, he’ll come around.”
Marilee hitched her chin high as she thought of all Grady had put her through the past few days. She had been so hurt at first she couldn’t stop crying. Well, the hurt and self-pity were gone. Now she was mad as hell.
“He’d better not come around here. He’s going to rue the day he moved my son into that…that trollop’s mobile home.”
Clara nodded, but she looked distracted. She fidgeted with her hair again. “Uh, Marilee, we have a small problem.”
“He’s vermin,” Ruby continued. “Worse than vermin. And everybody knows LaFonda Bonaire is white trash. Why, that’s not even her real name. Her real name is Betty Clump, but she paid to have it changed because she thought it would give her class. Ha! She’s still trash, and the only reason Grady fell for her is because she’d let him eat anything he wanted whenever he came into the Tick-Tock. And here you were trying to see that he ate a healthy diet and got plenty of exercise.”
“Ruby, what are you talking about?” Marilee asked, her face masked with confusion.
“LaFonda was stuffing him with pecan pie behind your back.”
Marilee’s look turned to disbelief. “Are you telling me that my husband walked out on our marriage because another woman fed him pecan pie? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, that’s part of it,” Clara replied. “My friend Janie Gilbert who works at the Gazette said it was almost sickening the way LaFonda carried on around him. Janie said LaFonda had been giving Grady the come-on for weeks.”
“A man can only take so much temptation, Marilee,” Ruby said. “Even a fine, upstanding minister like Grady.”
Marilee felt foolish that everybody in town had known about her husband and LaFonda long before her. “Why didn’t the two of you say something?”
“Because Grady was a man of God,” Clara said. “I thought he was way above that sort of thing.”
“Ruby’s right,” Marilee groaned. “I’ll never be able to show my face in this town again.”
Clara waved the comment aside. “Stop talking like that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Marilee’s in a lot of pain right now,” Ruby said, “and rightly so. You’re probably still in shock, too, honey,” she added, patting Marilee on the back. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Listen, sugar, I’ve got a pint of whiskey beneath the seat of my truck. I’ll grab it if you like. One good swig will calm your nerves.”
Clara gasped. “Why, Ruby Ledbetter, I don’t believe what I’m hearing. I would never have figured you for a drinking woman. And you a Southern Baptist of all things.”
Ruby seemed to take offense. “Don’t you go questioning my spirituality, Clara Goolesby. I may be a Baptist, but I have had my share of stress. And there’s nothing like a good shot of whiskey to ease the jitters when you don’t have time to whip your vehicle over to the side of the road and pray.”
“I hardly think it’s necessary to resort to blasphemy,” Clara said stiffly.
Marilee looked from one to the other, wondering if the two women would come to blows. How they’d managed to remain friends all these years made her wonder. “Okay, let’s calm down,” she said. “I’m sure we can work this out. I’ll call another roofer first thing in the morning.”
“And pay him with what?” Ruby asked. “Clara’s good looks?”
Clara glared at her. “That was a low blow, considering you cleaned out your savings account last year on an eyelift and tummy tuck.” The ring of the doorbell prevented Ruby from answering. “Oh, that must be Winnie,” Clara said. “She fell asleep in Ruby’s truck on the way over, and we didn’t have the heart to wake her, poor thing.”
“Who’s Winnie?” Marilee asked.
“You remember, Winnifred Frye from Blessing Home.” Clara didn’t wait for a response. “I’ve been trying to tell you since we arrived, but Ruby wouldn’t stop yammering. Winnie has been staying at my place, but she and the other girl got into a big fuss. You’re going to love her, Marilee.”
“I am?”
“I guess I’m going to have to answer the door, since neither of you look so inclined,” Ruby said, making her way from the kitchen. “You go ahead and break the news to her, Clara.”
“What news?” Marilee asked.
Clara seemed hesitant. “Winnie has no place to stay. I was hoping you’d put her up until we figure out what we’re going to do about Blessing Home.”
“Me? Clara, are you out of your mind? I can’t take care of anyone right now. My life is in shambles.”
“So is Winnie’s. But you have a roof over your head, don’t you? Not to mention a warm bed. That’s all poor Winnie needs. Until we can make further arrangements,” she added. “Besides,” she added with a whisper, “you owe me for not forcing Grady to take one of the girls in when we first started looking for temporary housing.”
Marilee was still embarrassed that Grady had not offered to house a girl while Blessing Home was being restored. True, he’d supported Blessing Home in other ways, taking up separate collections, asking for clothes and nonperishable food, but he’d balked at having an unwed mother in the house. He thought it would be a bad influence on Josh. Marilee wanted to laugh at the irony.
“Which girl was Winnie?” Marilee whispered to Clara. “Was she that petite redhead with the pixie face?”
“I’m Winnie,” a husky voice said. “And I’ve never been petite. Not even when I was born.”
Marilee turned in the direction of the voice and froze at the sight of the tall black woman. She was at least six feet tall, and her shoulders filled the doorway. “Oh.” She forced a smile. “How nice to meet you, Winnie. I’m Marilee Abernathy.”
Winnie responded by blowing a big bubble with her chewing gum. It popped, and she sucked it in. “I know who you are. Didn’t your old man just walk out on you?”
Marilee blushed. Was there anyone in Chickpea who hadn’t heard about her problems? “Well, yes.”
“You don’t have to be ashamed,” Winnie said. “My man left me too. After he knocked me up, that is.”
“Oh, how awful. You must’ve been devastated.”
“Yeah. Killing him would be too good for him, but I’m going to do it anyway if I ever lay eyes on him again.”
Clara suddenly looked anxious. “Please don’t talk like that, Winnie dear. We’re Christians.” She paused. “You don’t…uh…have any weapons on you, do you? I don’t believe in carrying guns.”
“I don’t need a gun. I’ve got my bare hands.”
All three women were quiet for a moment. Finally, Marilee spoke up. “How far along are you, Winnie?”
“Five and a half months. I’ve got a while.”
“Have you eaten?” she asked, wishing she had more to offer the girl than a sandwich. She hadn’t figured on needing many groceries.
“Nope. I’m starving. You got any Twinkies lying around?”
“I’m afraid not. But I have bologna and cheese and a whole loaf of bread.”
“Long as you don’t put those nasty bean sprouts on it,” Winnie said, rolling her eyes. “Clara is big on bean sprouts.”
Marilee looked at Ruby, who was dwarfed beside the young woman. “Would you mind making Winnie a sandwich while I have a word with Clara?”
“Sure.” Ruby turned for the refrigerator.
Marilee grasped Clara’s hand tightly and led her into the bedroom, where she closed the door. “Clara, what on earth are you thinking? I can’t take in this girl.”
Clara shook free. “I was thinking I might get a little peace and quiet, if you want to know the truth. She and the other girl fight constantly. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, because you haven’t been down in the trenches like the rest of us.”
“What are you talking about? I’m the one who had to knock on mean old Esmerelda Cunningham’s door and beg her to give us something for the raffle.”
Clara went on as though she hadn’t heard her. “Oh, you don’t mind making a few phone calls to ask for donations or playing Mozart in front of the ladies to show off your skills as a pianist, if and when it’s convenient for you. But heaven forbid you have to actually open your home to some poor pregnant gal who has absolutely no one to turn to.”
Marilee plopped onto the bed. “That’s not fair, Clara. You know I’d help if I didn’t have so much turmoil in my own life. I have to find a job. Do you know how long it has been since I’ve worked? All I know how to do is sing and play the piano. And bake cakes.”
“Winnie won’t be any trouble. She goes to school every day, and she’s a straight-A student. Plans to attend right up ‘til the baby comes, and as soon as she graduates she’s going to the community college here.” Clara paused. “Marilee, Winnie has never been in trouble in her life. She’s a good girl. Her only mistake was getting involved with a smooth-talking man who hit the road the minute she became pregnant. And her parents—” Clara pursed her lips in annoyance “—God-fearing Christians they are, they kicked her out the minute she told them. Honey, she has no one.”
Marilee pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. What next? she wondered, half-afraid to ask the question in the first place, in case she was in for another shocker. Her family had left her, they’d been kicked out of the church, she’d missed playing for the benefit luncheon, Esmerelda Cunningham was threatening to send her to jail and now Clara wanted her to take in an unmarried, pregnant girl.
And to think that a few days ago her life had been relatively normal.
“Oh, Clara,” she cried, shaking her head.
“Listen to me, Marilee. You know what it’s like to be rejected by those you love. That’s exactly what Winnie’s feeling right now, although she’d cut her tongue out before admitting it. She’s just a kid. Seventeen years old. Not much older than Josh.”
Marilee wanted to hide her head under a pillow and not have to think about it. How could she help someone else’s child when she hadn’t been able to help her own? How could she not? “Well, I suppose I could take her in for a couple of days,” she said at last. “Until other arrangements can be made. You realize I can’t make any long-term plans right now.”
Ruby appeared in the doorway. “Winnie said to thank you for the sandwich, but she had to be on her way. She took her sandwich with her.”
Marilee looked up. “On her way where?”
Ruby shrugged. “She didn’t say.”
“And you let her get away?” Clara cried.
“What was I supposed to do? She’s twice my size.”
“She can’t just leave,” Marilee said, jumping from the bed. “She has no place to go.”
Clara made a tsking sound. “I should have known something like this would happen. That girl can be downright ornery. Come on, Ruby, we’ll have to go after her.”
“I’ll go,” Marilee said, hurrying out of the room. She slammed out the front door. A moment later, she spotted Winnie; it would have been hard to miss her considering her size. “Winnie, wait!” she cried. “You can’t go.” The girl continued on. Marilee sped up. “Winnie, please don’t go.”
The girl turned as Marilee caught up with her and stopped so abruptly Marilee almost slammed into her. “What do you want?”
“Please don’t leave.”
“Look, lady, I may be black, broke and pregnant, but I’m not stupid, okay? I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
“Hurt my feelings?” Winnie gave a snort. “You can’t hurt my feelings. Nobody can. I’ve got a thick skin, but I’m thin on patience. And I don’t feel like listening to some white woman bellyaching ‘cause her husband left her. I’ve got my own problems, thank you very much.” She turned and began walking again.
Marilee stood there, aghast. Here she’d been trying to help the girl, only to be insulted. “Excuse me,” she called out, “but I am not grieving over my husband. I’m upset because my son left with him. And don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of wimp, because I’m not. I’m a lot stronger than you think.” She was only vaguely aware that the day had turned cold and a fine mist was falling. “Hello,” she called out angrily.
Winnie turned. “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to be somewhere.”
“Today? Right this minute?”
“It’s important.”
It was starting to rain. “Perhaps you could stay the night. You need to get out of this wet weather. It can’t be good for the baby.”
The girl seemed to ponder it. “Okay,” she said with a great deal of reluctance. “I suppose I can stay one night, but I definitely have to be somewhere tomorrow.”
“Fine. You can spend the night, and tomorrow I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”
“As long as you don’t start crying again. I can’t be around negative people in my condition.”
Marilee tried not to take offense at the remark as they started back for the house. “Do you like hot chocolate? It’ll chase the chill away.”
“Yeah, and may I have another sandwich? I’m not crazy about bologna, but I’m eating for two now, you know.”
Marilee nodded. “Yes, certainly.”
Winnie nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll sleep at your place tonight, but I’m outta here first thing in the morning.”
“First thing,” Marilee agreed.
“But not too early,” Winnie said. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I don’t have school. I’ll probably sleep till about ten o’clock.”
“Ten o’clock then.”
“And I like to drink juice and read the funnies before I start my day.”
Marilee wasn’t about to tell her she didn’t get the newspaper and there was no juice in the house. Besides, she didn’t have time to worry about it; she had to concentrate on getting along with Winnie until another home could be found.
It wouldn’t be easy. The girl had attitude.
NELL BREWER TOOK A BITE of her spaghetti, gagged and spit a mouthful into her napkin. “Sam, this is the worst spaghetti sauce I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
He regarded his mother. “Don’t beat around the bush, Mom. Tell me how you really feel.”
“How can you mess up something straight out of a jar?”
“It tasted bland so I added spices.”
She was making faces. “Tastes like you dumped a cupful of oregano in it.”
“You don’t have to eat it.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
With a disgusted sigh, Sam stood. He picked up both plates and carried them to the kitchen sink, where he dumped the contents into the garbage disposal. He flipped on the switch and waited for the ruined dinner to disappear. The disposal ground to life, wheezed and died.
Nell hurried over. “Well, would you look at that? Your cooking is so bad it broke the garbage disposal.”
“My cooking has nothing to do with it. I just need to press the reset button and it’ll be okay.” Sam opened the cabinet door then reached beneath the disposal and located the reset button. He pressed it, but nothing happened.
Peering over his shoulder, Nell gave a grunt. “I knew we should have ordered takeout.”
Sam rose quickly and collided with his mother, almost knocking her to the floor. He reached out to keep her from falling, his patience lost. “Mom, would you please get out of my way!”
She crossed her arms. “Don’t you raise your voice to me, Samuel Brewer. I’m still your mother, whether you like it or not. I’m just thankful your father isn’t here to see how you treat me.”
“Mom, please move.”
“You refuse to let me cook in my own kitchen, despite the fact you haven’t the slightest notion how to go about it. It’s a wonder we haven’t both died of ptomaine poisoning. You won’t even allow me to take a bath by myself. Well, I’m tired of being treated like I don’t have the good sense God gave me.”
Sam closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. The woman was driving him crazy. He opened his eyes and forced a smile to his face. “Look, Mom, we’re both tired. Why don’t you go into the living room and watch TV? I’ll have this disposal fixed in no time.”
She shook her head. “We should call a plumber. Someone who knows what he’s doing. You’ll only end up making it worse.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered as she left the room.
Sam grabbed a broom and stuck the handle into the disposal, turning it counterclockwise. While he worked, he listened to Jeopardy in the next room. He liked the show, and the answers, at least most of them, came easily to him. He figured that wasn’t bad for a man who’d waited until his mid-twenties to get his GED. But he’d had a hankering for knowledge as long as he could remember, and despite staying in trouble most of his high-school years, his grades had been high. He supposed it was because he’d always enjoyed reading.
Construction work had been grueling, leaving a man—at least him—too tired to sit in bars and try to pick up women, as his buddies had. He got to where he preferred going home to a good book. He’d read most of the classics because he thought it was important. He’d studied history and politics and economics. Since he hadn’t the slightest idea what a portfolio was, he’d read everything he could about investments. Sam didn’t believe in luck. He believed a person had to earn their way in this world by using their brain. After twenty years, he could retire right now and never worry about a dime, but he enjoyed what he did. He was not afraid of hard work.
Sam pressed the reset button and the disposal ground to life. Smiling, he called out to his mother in the next room. “Told you I could fix it.” There was no response. No doubt she was still angry that he’d raised his voice to her.
Sam began cleaning the kitchen. Thankfully, his mood had improved by the time he finished. He knew he owed his mother an apology, so he walked into the living room with one on his lips, but paused in surprise when he didn’t find her in her recliner as he’d expected. It wasn’t until he switched off the TV set that he heard the sound of running water. Muttering an oath under his breath, he hurried to the bathroom door and tried the knob.
It was locked.
CHAPTER THREE
WHENEVER SHE WAS ANXIOUS, Marilee baked. That explained the two lemon pound cakes, the chocolate torte and the loaf of banana bread cooling on the kitchen counter. She knew it had something to do with being a minister’s wife for sixteen years. One simply did not visit the sick or bereaved without a cake in tow. And then there were the numerous bake sales and bazaars held every year to raise money for choir robes or the new van to accommodate seniors and the handicapped. Seemed cakes were the veritable frameworks of a thriving church.
Sixteen years of baking cakes.
Sixteen years living with Grady.
You got to know a man pretty well after spending that much time with him. She knew what Grady looked like when he opened his eyes in the morning, and she knew which side of the bed he preferred sleeping on. She knew he liked wearing navy blue because he thought it set off his blond hair. She knew he’d wrestled with the idea of becoming a minister, when what he’d really wanted to do was go into broadcasting. He’d dreamed of having his own radio or TV talk show. He was a born entertainer, he’d told her back in high school. Marilee had to admit he had stage presence—he’d even been selected for the leading role in every school play. But his parents had balked at the idea of him going into broadcasting. After all, he’d grown up in a family of ministers, and he was expected to carry on the tradition.
Grady had played the dutiful son and enrolled in seminary school, then convinced Marilee to elope with him. It had caused quite a stink with his family; even though they approved of Marilee, they thought the couple far too young to marry, and wanted Grady to complete his education first. In the beginning, Marilee wondered if he’d asked her to marry him just to get back at his parents for forcing him into the ministry, but Grady had seemed so much in love with her that she’d pushed the thought aside. After a while, Grady no longer complained about being in the ministry, and Marilee assumed he was as happy as she.
It was only recently that he’d begun to second-guess his vocation. Had he kept it to himself all these years? Had he merely pretended to love her? There were so many unanswered questions. Would she ever know the truth?
That was the past, she reminded herself. As difficult as it was, she had to concentrate on rebuilding her life. Part of that meant Josh. His place was with her. It would be so much easier to hate Grady, but for the life of her she couldn’t. Sure, she hated what he’d done to their family, and she was terrified at the prospect of facing the world alone. Well, she wasn’t entirely alone. There was Winnie to contend with. The girl was presently sprawled on the sofa in the living room watching Jeopardy. She called out her answers, then yelped each time she got them right, causing Marilee to start.
Her nerves were shot. She felt as if she was about to jump out of her skin. Perhaps if she tried to take it one day at a time—one hour at a time—instead of looking toward the future, which seemed pretty bleak at the moment, she would manage.
Marilee stared at the chocolate torte cake. She could not keep it in the house or she’d end up eating it. Like that time three years ago, when she thought she was pregnant and went on a chocolate binge. Even then she’d known things weren’t right between her and Grady, but she’d ignored the signs. Anyway, the church kept her so busy she didn’t have time to think about it. There was always something to do, costumes to sew for the Easter pageant or Christmas play, a wedding rehearsal, or a funeral to attend. In the midst of it all, Sunday-school teachers became ill, volunteers for vacation Bible school backed out at the last minute or extra hands were needed to see that the shut-ins received a hot meal each day. It didn’t matter that her husband’s blood pressure had sky-rocketed, that he was unhappy with his calling or that her son was rebelling. Marilee was expected to pick up the pieces when things fell apart at Chickpea Baptist.
In the meantime, her life had fallen apart.
Marilee heard movement and glanced up. Winnie stood in the doorway, shaking her head sadly. “Look at the mess in this kitchen. How many cakes are you planning on baking tonight?”
“I’m going to bake until I run out of ingredients.” That wasn’t likely. She had gone to the grocery store once Clara and Ruby left and had enough baking items on hand to start her own bakery.
Winnie continued to stare at her. “You’re having a nervous breakdown, aren’t you?”
Marilee sighed. “No, I’m not having a breakdown. I just prefer staying busy when I have things on my mind. Would you like a slice of pound cake?”
“No. I figure I’ve had enough junk food today, and I really need to start eating healthy. You know, for the baby. I hope you don’t expect me to clean up this kitchen, because I need to soak in a hot tub. My back is killing me.”
“I don’t expect you to clean up after me,” Marilee said a little too sharply. She softened her tone. “By the way, do you know your baby’s due date yet?”
“Christmas.”
Marilee smiled. “No kidding?”
“I wish she would come during my two-week break so I don’t have to miss as much school. I’ve had perfect attendance for three years straight.”
“Good for you. You’re a senior?”
Winnie nodded. “And I plan to graduate with my class come hell or high water. Of course, I need to line up somebody to watch my baby, but I’m sure my friends will chip in. Once I graduate, I plan to study accounting. I’ve always been good at math.” She paused. “You really ought to freeze those cakes or I’ll just end up eating them. My doctor warned me about gaining more weight. See, diabetes runs in my family so I’ve got no business eating sweets, and that chocolate cake is crying out for me.”
Marilee decided she definitely needed to get it out of the house. She suddenly thought of Sam Brewer and wondered if he would enjoy the torte. Surely she owed him something for practically saving her life. And maybe if they met under different circumstances he wouldn’t think she was a raving lunatic. She assumed he was married and had children. They would probably enjoy the cake, and in future she would avoid making such tempting desserts.
“I think I’ll take it next door,” Marilee said, “to repay my neighbor for doing me a favor this morning.”
Winnie eyed the cake ravenously. “Better hurry.”
Marilee left the house a few minutes later, cake in hand, and crossed the lawn to the Brewer house, patting her hair in place as she went. She hadn’t thought to run a brush through it or apply lipstick. Okay, maybe she had given it a passing thought, but she wasn’t going to primp for any man, married or not. Besides, she was a married woman, even if her husband had found greener pastures.
She should be mourning the loss of her marriage and trying to atone for her shortcomings as a wife. That’s what any good Christian woman would do.
Marilee rang the doorbell and waited several minutes before the door was flung open by a harried-looking Sam Brewer. He had shaved and combed his hair, and Marilee could only stare dumbly at the sight of him in snug jeans and a burgundy rugby shirt. She had not counted on him looking so good. Lord, Lord, why had she come?
“I, uh, brought you and your family a cake,” she said.
If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it. “Thank God you’re here.” He yanked her inside, almost causing her to drop the cake. “I need a woman.”
Marilee gaped at him. “Excuse me?”
“My mother has locked herself in the bathroom and she won’t let me in.” He noted Marilee’s blank look and went on hurriedly, “She’s taking a bath. Her eyesight isn’t good, and she’s pretty frail. I’m afraid she’ll slip. Please see if she’ll let you in.” He motioned frantically toward the bathroom door.
Marilee thrust the cake at him and hurried to the door. It was locked. “Mrs. Brewer, are you in there?” she called out. “Mrs. Brewer, I’m your neighbor, Marilee Abernathy. I was wondering if you needed any help in there.”
“I can pick the lock,” Sam whispered.
Marilee caught a whiff of his aftershave and thought she might be dizzy. She shook her head. “Let me try to get her to open the door first. Mrs. Brewer, are you okay?”
The lock clicked and Nell Brewer peered through a slit in the door. “Marilee Abernathy? You look awfully familiar. Where do I know you from?”
“Her memory is bad,” Sam said and was awarded a dark look from his mother.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with my memory.”
“I grew up next door,” Marilee said.
“Oh, yes, Marilee.” Nell brightened. “Hester and Will Brown’s daughter. I haven’t seen you since your mother’s funeral. Oh, Hester was such a sweet woman. Both of your parents were lovely people.”
“I miss them,” Marilee said, then decided to change the subject since her emotions were running so high these days. “I just wanted to see if I could help you with your bath.”
“She’s kind of modest,” Sam said.
Nell glared at him. “How could I possibly be modest when you’ve paraded me butt-naked in front of half the town?”
“They were hired to look after you.”
“I don’t need looking after.”
“That’s not what you said six months ago.”
Marilee looked from one to the other. “Perhaps I’ve come at a bad time…”
“Now look what you’ve done,” Nell accused her son. “You’ve embarrassed our guest. Sam, what’s that in your hand?”
“It’s a chocolate torte cake,” Marilee said.
Nell looked delighted. “For me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, dear. We’ll have a slice after my bath. Just let me grab my towel and you can come in.” She closed the door.
“It’ll be okay,” Marilee whispered to Sam. “I’ve done this sort of thing before.”
The door opened, and Marilee stepped inside the steamy bathroom, coming face-to-face with Sam’s mother. “It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Brewer,” she said, closing the door behind her and locking it securely. She studied the woman closely, noting the cropped white hair and parchment skin. She had aged, but she looked as healthy as a horse.
“Why are you staring?” Nell asked. “Do I have spaghetti sauce on my face?”
Marilee shook her head. “Sam said you were frail. You don’t look the least bit frail to me.”
Nell gave a grunt. “Oh, he’s full of baloney. I’ve never been sick a day in my life. To hear my son talk, you’d think I was about to draw my last breath.” She dropped the towel and stepped inside the tub, then carefully lowered herself into the water. “Have a seat.” She pointed to the toilet.
“Thank you.” Marilee put the lid down and sat. If the woman was modest, she certainly didn’t show it.
“This is heavenly,” Nell said. “I haven’t bathed in three days except to wash up at the sink.”
“Why is that?”
The woman sighed as she reached for her soap and sponge. “Oh, I accidentally slipped and bruised my hip a few months ago. Sam made a big deal out of it and called 911. Here I was, without a stitch of clothing, and I had two handsome paramedics looking at my sagging behind.” She grunted. “That boy is driving me crazy. Some days I feel like running away from home. But then I have to remind myself it’s my own fault.”
“I don’t understand.”
Nell lowered her voice. “Well, it’s like this. I lied to get him here.”
“Come again?”
“My best friend had just died, and I was so lonely and depressed I couldn’t stand it. So I sort of let Sam think I was on my last legs. You know, not long for this world. Told him I was going blind and couldn’t remember anything. I was just hoping for a visit, you see. Next thing I know, he moved in with me.”
“With his wife and children?” Marilee couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, no, he’s divorced. Never had children.” She paused in washing and regarded Marilee. “I suppose you think I’m a selfish old woman, only thinking of myself.”
“I think you’re human, Mrs. Brewer. We all get lonely.” She thought of Josh, and the ache that never left.
“Sam and I have been knocking heads ever since he moved in. This place is too small for the both of us.” She frowned. “Listen to me complain. I should be thankful to have him here. And I would be, if he didn’t stand over me like a mother hen all the time. He keeps hiring these crazy women to take care of me. The last one stole the pearl earrings I wore on my wedding day, a gift from my dear grandmother. I couldn’t convince Sam of it, he said I forgot where I put them. My memory is as sharp as a tack, and I specifically remember that woman admiring them the day before they turned up missing.”
“Why don’t you tell Sam the truth?” Marilee asked.
“That I faked my illness?” Nell shook her head. “He’d never forgive me. Especially after he sold his company. All I can do is pretend to get a little better each day. Not that he listens. He’s already set up an interview with another woman who’s supposed to look after me.”
“I wish I could help, Mrs. Brewer,” Marilee said.
“Call me Nell.” She smiled. “And you have helped, just by listening. Now, tell me what brings you back to the neighborhood?”
Marilee sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“That’s okay. If the bathwater gets cold, I’ll just add more hot. Now, start at the beginning.”
SAM WAS DOZING ON THE SOFA when the women exited the bathroom some time later, Nell powdered and wearing a clean gown. He rose quickly. “All finished?”
“I almost drowned,” Nell said, “but Marilee performed CPR and brought me back from my grave.”
Sam just looked at her.
Marilee chuckled at the woman’s spunk. “Your mother is perfectly capable of bathing herself, but I enjoyed keeping her company.”
Nell rubbed her hands together. “Now, how about a slice of that cake?”
“None for me,” Marilee said. “I still have more cleaning to do.” She thought Sam looked disappointed. Maybe she was just being hopeful, and that was downright sinful, considering her circumstances. “It was nice seeing you again, Nell, after all this time,” she said and turned for the door. “You too, Sam.”
Nell shot her son a dark look. “Sam, show some manners and walk the girl home.”
“I was planning to,” he said defensively.
“I’ll be fine,” Marilee told them.
Sam was already beside her. “I insist. Besides, my mother would never forgive me for not seeing you home.” He opened the door and motioned her through first. He waited until he’d closed the door to say anything.
“Thanks for the help. And the cake.”
Marilee looked at him. “I dropped by so I could apologize. For what happened this morning. I don’t know what came over me. I was just so…low.”
Their gazes locked beneath the streetlight. He looked worried. “You haven’t thought of hurting yourself again, have you?”
“That’s the last thing on my mind,” she replied, which was the truth. Distractedly, she noted the pickup truck sitting in Sam’s driveway, then looked at it more closely. “You’re driving Bobby Benson’s truck,” she said, almost an accusation.
Sam glanced in that direction. “We’re business partners. We just haven’t gotten around to changing the name of the company.”
“I don’t believe this,” she exclaimed.
“It’s true. Why?”
“Our committee hired Benson Contractors to renovate Grace Blessing Home. Bobby walked off the job and went fishing.”
“You’re involved in that?”
“Yes. Why haven’t I seen you?”
“I’ve been finishing up the new hardware store on the other side of town. Haven’t been near Blessing Home. From what I hear, Benson wasn’t getting paid.”
“He’s going to get his money,” Marilee said tightly. “All we need is a little more time.”
“The subcontractors have to be paid, Marilee. You can’t expect men with families to work without pay.”
“Well, the whole thing has been a disappointment. We expected a little more support from the community. You wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve called, only to have the phone slammed in my ear.”
“Everybody has problems.” He sounded weary.
“You’re right. Nobody has time to worry about these girls, not even their own families. I suppose they’re just expected to live on the streets and have their babies on the side of the road.” Obviously, Sam was no different from the rest. She turned to go.
He captured her arm. “Now, don’t go running off in a huff. Surely we can work out something.” He was not surprised when she pulled her arm free. “How about I run by and look at the place tomorrow. See how much more work is needed.”
Marilee was surprised by his answer. “Well, okay,” she said after a moment. “You don’t know how much that would mean to the committee.”
“I’m not doing it for the committee. I’m doing it because you were kind enough to assist my mother with her bath.”
“I appreciate it regardless.”
“And I’d like to make repairs at your place. That ceiling beam is going to cave in if we don’t get some support up there. Won’t take me long to fix it and the front door.”
Marilee wondered why he was offering his help when all she’d done was sit with his mother for a few minutes while the woman had bathed. Was he trying to come on to her? She had no idea—she’d been married so long, she didn’t know how men operated these days. As far as Sam was concerned, all she had to go on was his reputation, and that alone was enough reason to keep her distance. “Why don’t you let me think about it?”
“I don’t expect anything in return, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Even as he spoke, Sam knew it was a lie. He’d had his eyes on Marilee for years, and the thought of spending time with her, even if he was perched on a ladder, was appealing. But first, he needed to find out what was going on between Grady and her.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply you had ulterior motives,” she said quickly, although that wasn’t altogether true. This conversation was making her uncomfortable. “Well, I’d better go inside.”
“You’re right. You don’t want Mrs. Bodine from across the street finding you in the dark with a man of my reputation.”
He sounded amused, and Marilee wondered if he was making fun of her. She hitched her chin higher. “I don’t much care what anyone thinks.”
“Good for you.” He cupped her elbow in the palm of his hand and led her toward her house. “I don’t know what problems you’re going through, Marilee, and the last thing I want to do is butt in. But I’m a good listener if you ever need a sounding board.”
“I’m fine. Thank you, though, for your concern.”
Sam suspected he would be the last one she would take her problems to. She was keeping him at arm’s length, and that made him even more determined to learn more about her. “Thanks again for helping my mother. You probably think I’m overprotective, but she was in a bad way when I first moved here.”
“I understand she lost her best friend.”
“I meant healthwise.”
“Sometimes depression can bring on physical problems,” Marilee said gently. “I’ve spent a lot of time working with the elderly, and no matter how old a person gets they want to feel productive.”
They had reached her door. Sam gazed down at her, thinking no woman had a right to look that good in sweats. She had been pretty as a young girl and still was, though the years had softened her features. “I remember how lovely you looked in the Christmas parade the year you were crowned homecoming queen,” he blurted without thinking.
Marilee couldn’t hide her surprise. “That was a long time ago.”
“You wore a red velvet dress and tiny flowers in your hair.”
“Baby’s breath. I can’t believe you remember.”
“How could I forget? You stole the show.”
Marilee had been avoiding direct eye contact until then, but when she looked up she found him studying her curiously. A light breeze ruffled his dark hair. She remembered how Grady sprayed his hair each morning with something he bought at a beauty supply house that promised extra hold. It would have taken hurricane-force winds to muss the blond mane that he was so proud of. She wondered if she would spend the rest of her life comparing men to Grady. But how could she not, after all the years she was married to him? He might be out of her life, but one did not forget sixteen years that easily. Marilee had absolutely no business staring at Sam’s hair or the dark lock that had fallen onto his forehead. Or feeling flattered that he’d remembered how she’d looked in the Christmas parade all those years ago.
“Did you and Grady have children?”
“A son. He’s fifteen.”
“I remember being fifteen and thinking I had all the answers and everybody else was stupid.” He surprised her with a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t any better at sixteen and seventeen. I suppose that’s why I stayed in so much trouble.”
Marilee chuckled. “Yes, I remember they voted you the boy most likely to spend his life in San Quentin.” He smiled at that, and she tilted her head back slightly. “Are you still bad to the bone, Sam Brewer?” She couldn’t resist teasing and hoped he didn’t think she was flirting.
“I must not be too bad if you’re standing out here in the dark with me.”
He stepped closer, and Marilee froze. She felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. His face was only inches from hers. He was too handsome for his own good, and for one wild and insane moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he reached around and opened her door.
“Good night, Marilee,” he asked. “Don’t forget to use the chain on your door until I can fix it.”
She realized she was holding her breath, and when she let it out, hot air gushed from her lungs with such force it made her light-headed. She swayed slightly.
Sam caught her, a look of concern crossing his face. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine,” she said, annoyed that she had been so taken in by his good looks that she’d almost swooned. Swooned, for heaven’s sake! Nobody did that sort of thing anymore.
“You looked mighty nervous there for a moment. You didn’t think I was going to kiss you, did you?” An easy smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Charm and sensuality oozed from him. Yes, he was as bad as they came, at least where women were concerned. “You’re still a scoundrel, Sam Brewer.”
Without another word, Marilee hurried inside and closed the door, securing the chain with trembling hands. On the other side, she heard Sam laugh softly. His morals were still lower than a gopher hole. And wasn’t it just like him to assume he was going to make the repairs to her house? Well, he had another think coming because she wasn’t about to let that…that hellion inside her house, much less in her life.
She came to a halt. Wait a minute. Why was she so upset? The answer came quickly. Because he’d made her feel pretty and breathless and dizzy and she didn’t want to feel those things. She just wanted to feel numb, because it took the sharp edges off her emotions and made life bearable right now.
Marilee suddenly felt bone tired. She dreaded the mess that waited for her in the kitchen and longed for sleep, an escape from worrying about what she was going to do with her life. She dragged herself into the kitchen to set up the automatic coffeemaker and her mouth formed an O of surprise. The room was sparkling from top to bottom. Winnie.
SAM RETURNED HOME AND STOOD inside the living room, gazing about as though seeing it for the first time. Everything appeared the same, but he felt different somehow, and he knew it had everything to do with Marilee. He wondered if she knew just how close he had come to kissing her. Kissing her! He could only imagine how she would have responded. In fact, she probably would have punched him in the face. He grinned. He liked his women feisty; it was more challenging that way.
Where was her damn husband? And what about the kid?
Nell looked up from her recliner. “You’ve been up to no good, Samuel Brewer. I can see it in your eyes. I hope you weren’t fresh with that young woman. She has enough on her hands, what with losing her husband to the town floozy.”
So that was it, he thought. Marilee’s husband had obviously left her for another woman and taken the kid. Is that why she’d tried to hang herself? No doubt she was feeling the sting of rejection, and Sam knew exactly what she needed. He’d known his share of widows and divorcées, and he knew how to work them.
“And you can wipe that smile right off your face. Marilee is different from the sort of women you’ve known.”
“Mom, I’m hurt,” he said. “I wouldn’t think of taking advantage of her situation.”
“I know you better than you know yourself, young man.” Nell suddenly smiled. “Oh yes, guess who called while you were out? Shelly. Remember her? The two of you were married briefly. She promised to call back.”
Sam’s shoulders slumped. The last person in the world he wanted to talk to was his ex-wife, who usually called him because she needed money. As if he hadn’t been generous enough, she’d already taken him to court twice to raise her alimony. He’d let her get away with it because he’d felt guilty. He should have known the difference between love and simple infatuation. He should have worked harder at the marriage. But he had taken the easy way out. He had bought back his freedom.
As if on cue, the telephone rang. Sam stared at it.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Nell asked.
Giving a weary sigh, Sam picked up the phone. His ex spoke from the other end. “Hello, Shelly, what is it this time?”
“Sam, I’m so glad you answered,” she said, sounding near tears.
He rolled his eyes heavenward. She needed something and her needs ranged from cosmetic surgery to a new Jaguar. Either way, it was going to cost him. He had offered to put her through college and pay her expenses, but Shelly wasn’t interested in an education. She needed a caretaker and provider, and he’d played the part so well during their marriage that she still clung to him. He glanced at his mother and saw that she was taking it all in with a great deal of amusement.
“Sam, are you there?” Shelly asked.
“I’m here.” He sank into the nearest chair and waited for what was to come, his thoughts still on Marilee. Common sense told him he had no business getting involved with her. She was probably just as needy as his mother and his ex-wife. If only he would start thinking with his brain instead of getting a hard-on every time he saw a pretty face.
But damn, Marilee Abernathy did have the best legs he’d ever seen on a female.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, Marilee found herself filling out an application at the local Job Service center. She had checked the classifieds daily. Prissy’s Pets was looking for someone to groom dogs, the local tavern needed a cocktail waitress, and Darnel Hines was advertising for a mechanic. Slim pickings, to say the least. She would have to look elsewhere.
“Marilee, I just want you to know how sorry I was to hear about you and Grady,” Leanne Davis, who worked at the job placement center, whispered.
Marilee forced a smile to her lips as she handed the woman her job application. She and Leanne had attended high school together and had cheered the Fighting Pirates in their cutesy blue-and-gold cheerleading outfits. Her friend had since married and had three children, gaining at least ten pounds with each pregnancy. Marilee wondered if either one of them would fit in their old cheerleading skirts.
“Thank you, Leanne. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. But I’m going to be just fine.” She didn’t believe it at the moment, but if she said it enough perhaps it would come true.
“I can’t help feeling guilty. After all, I was the one who introduced you to Grady in high school.”
“That was a long time ago. I certainly don’t hold you responsible.”
“That’s why I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find a job.”
With that in mind, Marilee decided to let Leanne feel guilty a little while longer. It wasn’t the Christian thing to do, but she was desperate. “Thank you. I know you’ll do your best.”
“Only trouble is, there aren’t many jobs available in Chickpea.” Leanne leaned closer. “What I want to know is, did you suspect anything?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you know Grady was sleeping with that slut?”
Marilee shook her head. “I was the last to know.” She smiled tightly. “But I’m trying to put all that behind me now and go on with my life. That’s why I need a job.”
“Of course you do, honey,” Leanne said, patting her hand. “And we’re going to find you something.” She straightened in her chair and considered Marilee’s application. “Hmm. You don’t have a degree.”
Marilee tried to look confident. “No, I don’t. But I’m intelligent, quick to learn, and I’m a hard worker. There isn’t much I can’t do once I put my mind to it.”
“Of course you can, sugar.” Leanne shuffled through more papers. “Is there something you’re particularly interested in? Something you’re really good at?”
“I play the piano and sing. I was choir director at our church for years. But you probably already know that.” She suddenly brightened. “I bake cakes.”
Leanne looked up. “Do what?”
“Just ask me the ingredients of any cake you’ve ever heard of, and I can spout them off word for word. Red velvet, Lady Baltimore, German chocolate, you name it. I personally put together a fifty-page cookbook of my own recipes for a committee I’m on, and we sold several hundred copies.” Marilee clasped her hands in her lap. She could see that it meant nothing to Leanne.
“Too bad Mitch Johnson isn’t hiring over at the bakery,” Leanne replied.
Marilee remained thoughtful. Surely there was something she could do. “I like being around people, for what it’s worth,” she said. “Folks say I have a calming effect on those who are troubled. I’ve spent many a night sitting with the sick in hospitals and nursing homes, and I always tried to be there when someone from the congregation lost a loved one.”
“You enjoy that sort of thing?” Leanne asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“I like helping people. Perhaps I could be a nurses’ aid.”
“You’d have to take classes, and the pay is low, but it’s something to keep in mind.” She studied Marilee. “You say you don’t mind working with the bereaved?”
“Not at all. I’m used to it.”
Leanne seemed to ponder it. Finally, she reached for a file. “Well then, Marilee, I just might have something for you after all.”
THAT AFTERNOON, MARILEE WAS waiting for Winnie when she stepped off the school bus. “I need your help,” she told the girl.
Winnie adjusted the shoulder strap on her book bag. “With what?”
Marilee grinned. “Get in the car, and I’ll tell you on the way.”
“You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
“I want to teach somebody a lesson, and you’re the perfect person to help me.”
“Who’s the victim?”
“Esmerelda Cunningham. You know her?”
“The Queen Bee?” Winnie gave a grunt. “I know of her—rich, stingy and mean.”
“I think she needs a refresher course in manners.”
“Then I’m your girl.”
After their admittance to Esmerelda Cunningham’s grand house, Marilee followed a staid-looking butler into the drawing room with Winnie on her heels, carrying the antique candelabra. Esmerelda was sipping tea from a dainty cup and listening to opera. She looked queenly, her dress crisp as new money and not a hair out of place on her white head.
“I was not expecting guests,” she said coolly, “but I am relieved to find my candelabra in good repair.”
“Just set it over there,” Marilee told Winnie.
The girl set the candelabra on a Duncan Phyfe table with a thump as Marilee, hands on hips, faced Esmerelda. “Yes, I brought it back once I heard you’d accused me of stealing it. I have absolutely no interest in it. I don’t know about you, but I have a life, and I’m not going to spend it polishing silver.” She hitched her chin high and sniffed. “I prefer stainless steel myself.”
Esmerelda set her cup in its saucer so hard Marilee feared it would shatter. “I beg your pardon? Do you dare come into my home and insult me after I was generous enough to donate to your cause? And who is this person with you?”
“Name’s Winnie Frye,” Winnie said. “Hey, I like your place. It’s a bit crowded for my tastes, and I shudder to think about trying to raise a toddler around all these expensive-looking eggs you got sittin’ around.”
“Those aren’t eggs,” Esmerelda said. “They are original Fabergé.” Winnie picked up one, and the woman gasped aloud. “Put that down immediately!”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Mrs. C.,” Winnie said. “I’m just curious by nature. I like touching things, you know?” She walked over to a Tiffany lamp. “Oh, now, I like this.”
“Hands off!” Esmerelda almost shouted, causing Winnie to jump and almost knock over the lamp. Esmerelda sank into her chair and mopped her forehead with a handkerchief. She looked at Marilee. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Marilee tried to hide her amusement. “Winnie was living at Blessing Home until it was declared unsafe. We’ve managed to find homes for the other girls, but we haven’t had any luck placing Winnie.” She stepped closer and whispered, “She has mood swings, and her pregnancy has made them worse. I guess you might say she’s hormonally challenged right now.” Marilee cut her eyes toward the girl.
Esmerelda looked from Marilee to Winnie before settling her gaze on Marilee once more. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I was sort of hoping you’d let me crash here on your sofa for a while,” Winnie said. “I’d really prefer my own bedroom, you understand, but I don’t want to put you out. I reckon I could set up a bassinet over here by this window. I want my baby to have plenty of sunlight, and this place is kinda dark, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“You must be out of your mind,” Esmerelda said to Marilee. “No wonder your husband left you.”
Marilee was surprised the remark didn’t sting as much as it had in the past. “Now, now, Mrs. Cunningham, I know you’re a person of good breeding, and you wouldn’t think of stooping to insults, so I’m just going to state my business. We need a home for Winnie, and you have the biggest house in town. Surely you wouldn’t mind having a guest around.”
“I most certainly do mind,” the woman said. “This is not a hotel.”
“It’s big enough to be a hotel,” Winnie said. “I hear this place even has an elevator and swimming pool. Would it be okay if I brought some of the brothers over for a weenie roast and pool party?”
Esmerelda stared in horror. She turned to Marilee. “Don’t think for one minute I don’t know what’s going on here. You’re simply trying to embarrass me for making a fuss over the candelabra. Well, it won’t work. I did my duty by donating it to your charity, it’s not my fault you weren’t there to hand it over at the drawing. I can only hope you’ve come to your senses and will see that it is delivered safely to the woman who won it.”
“I don’t want your dumb old candelabra,” Marilee said. “We’ll find another prize.”
“What do you mean, you don’t want it? Do you have any idea what it’s worth?”
“I know what it’s not worth, Mrs. Cunningham. It’s not worth being called a thief.” Esmerelda looked away. “But that’s not why I’m here. Winnie needs a place to stay,” she repeated.
“Is this a sleeper sofa?” Winnie asked. “I’d hate to sleep on this expensive fabric, what with my bladder problem.”
Esmerelda looked as though she was about to have a seizure. “Dudley, come here this instant!” she called out loudly. The butler seemed to appear from nowhere. “Please escort these women from my home. And carry that candelabra to their car.” She turned to Marilee. “My business with you is finished. I’ve done my part.”
“Forget the candelabra, Dudley,” Marilee said. “And we are more than capable of showing ourselves out.” She and Winnie started for the door.
“You wait just a darned minute, young lady!” Esmerelda said. “You are not leaving this house without that candelabra. I insist! I’m not about to have my friends think I went back on my word.” She drew herself up proudly. “I’m retiring to my bedroom now. I don’t want to hear another word about it.” She left in a huff.
Marilee looked at the butler. “I’ll bet she’s a peach to work for.”
Dudley chuckled as he followed them out the door, carrying the candelabra.
Marilee pulled into her driveway twenty minutes later and found Clara and Ruby planting mums in the old cast-iron pot out front. “We thought it would cheer you up,” Clara said as Marilee and Winnie climbed from the car.
Marilee was touched by her friends’ thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”
“How did things go with Esmerelda?” Ruby asked.
“The woman needs a beating with a big stick,” Winnie said. “Imagine her not wanting to take me in. And here I am with child. I’m telling you, she can go from zero to bitch in two seconds flat.”
Marilee laughed as she pulled the candelabra from her back seat. “Naturally, she insisted we take the candelabra after all. She doesn’t want to look bad to her friends.”
“What friends?” Winnie muttered.
“Did she apologize for what she said about you?” Ruby asked.
“What do you think?” Marilee presented the candelabra to Clara. “I trust you’ll see that this gets into the right hands.”
“Yes, of course.” She put it in her car.
“By the way, my next-door neighbor happens to be partners with Bobby Benson, and he has offered to take a look at Blessing Home. If he agrees to patch the roof, we’ll have to come up with the money.”
“How do we know he won’t walk off the job like Bobby?” Ruby asked. “And how much is he thinking of charging us?” As committee treasurer, she was tightfisted when it came to doling out money.
“He’s going to let me know,” Marilee said. “I think that with the benefit luncheon and cookbook sales we should be able to cover it.”
“There’s a lot more to be done,” Clara said. “We’re going to have to put our heads together and come up with more moneymaking schemes.”
Ruby looked thoughtful. “How about a white elephant sale?”
“That might work,” Clara said. “What do you think, Marilee?”
Marilee sighed. “Maybe.”
“Have you lost interest in this project?” Clara asked.
Marilee was beginning to wish she’d never gotten involved, but she couldn’t let them down again. “Of course not. It’s just—”
“She’s got a lot on her mind,” Ruby said. “And rightfully so. Honey, Clara and I need to take on more responsibility, what with all that’s happened. And we need to get our other volunteers off their behinds.”
Clara gave a harrumph. “What volunteers? They’ve all dropped out.”
“Let me see what Mr. Brewer has to say, once he takes a look at the place,” Marilee told them.
Winnie started for the house, and then paused. “I have a four-thirty appointment at the clinic tomorrow. I go every three weeks for my prenatal exam.”
“I can drive you,” Marilee said.
Clara smiled at Winnie. “Are you all settled in, dear?”
“For the time being. But I only plan on hanging around for a couple of days. My girlfriend just rented one of those luxury apartments in town, and she’s having a fit for me to move in with her. Soon as she gets an extra bed, I’m outta here.” She headed for the house without another word.
“She’s not going anywhere,” Marilee told her friends as they shot her a questioning look.
“How’s the job hunting?” Ruby asked, changing the subject.
“I have an appointment with Irby Denton at the funeral home tomorrow.”
“Oh my,” Clara said. “You’re going to work at a funeral home?”
“Irby has to hire me first,” Marilee pointed out.
Both women stared back at her. Finally, Ruby smiled. “Hey, I think that’s great! What exactly would you be doing there? If he hires you, I mean?”
“He needs a receptionist. It’s an entry-level position, but I have to start somewhere.”
“Oh my,” Clara repeated.
Ruby looked at the woman. “Clara, why do you keep saying that?”
Clara stared at Marilee. “Ruby doesn’t know your secret, does she?” Clara whispered.
“What secret?” Ruby asked, glancing from one to the other.
Marilee shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Besides, I need this job. I just discovered Grady took a chunk of money out of our savings account.”
“You need a good lawyer,” Clara said.
“I’ve already made an appointment. Tate Radford says he can have me divorced in ninety days on grounds of adultery.”
“Well, they don’t come any better than Tate,” Clara said, “but he’s not cheap.”
“I want somebody good, in case I end up with a custody battle on my hands,” Marilee replied.
Clara reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Are you okay?”
Marilee offered what she hoped was a brave smile. “Better than I was. I’m not going to recover overnight and I still think of Josh constantly, but I’m definitely better.”
Ruby stamped her foot on the ground. “Somebody better tell me about this secret or I’m going to throw a fit right here in Marilee’s front yard.”
“Oh, good grief!” Clara said. She stepped closer to Ruby. “Marilee is terrified of dead people. She has a phobia.”
Ruby’s eyes grew wide as saucers as she regarded Marilee. “No kidding?”
Marilee shot Clara a disgruntled look. “I’m not terrified of anything.” Other than the future, she reminded herself.
“Marilee Abernathy, I watched you almost pass out when Sara Banks asked you to remove her husband’s wedding ring from his finger at his funeral,” Clara said. She looked at Ruby. “Marilee had a full-blown panic attack out in the parking lot. I almost had to bring out my smelling salts.”
“I just don’t like touching dead people,” Marilee said. “I hardly think that’s going to be a problem if I’m working at the front desk.”
“I’ve touched plenty of dead people,” Ruby told her proudly. “Irby sometimes calls me to do hair and makeup when his wife can’t do it. Dead people can’t hurt you, Marilee.”
Clara looked doubtful. “Irby is never going to hire you if he finds out.”
“He’s not going to find out,” Marilee replied. She looked long and hard at her friends. “Is he?”
Both women pretended to zip their lips, lock them shut and throw away the keys. Marilee smiled prettily. “Thank you.”
“What if you have to help him embalm somebody?” Ruby whispered.
“I’m not going to go near the embalming room. You have to go to a special school for that.” Both women looked skeptical. “You have to admit I’m perfect for the job. I’ve been comforting the bereaved for years. It’s what I do best.”
“You are perfect for the job,” Clara said. “As long as you don’t go near any dead people.”
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, MARILEE watched Josh step from the bus at the high school. He was alone, his back bowed, head down. His posture said it all. He didn’t fit in, never had. He paid a heavy price for being a minister’s son with a weight problem. He’d never had a girlfriend, never attended a school dance or social gathering, but if he were invited, Marilee was certain he wouldn’t go because he felt like an outcast. Marilee suffered as much as he did over it, but she kept quiet because Josh would have been embarrassed for her to know. But she knew. Mothers always knew. The only friends Josh had attended Chickpea Baptist, and she doubted he was spending much time there these days.
“Josh,” she called out, waving at him in the crowd.
He took one look at her and turned in the opposite direction.
Her heart sank. “Josh, wait!” She pushed through the throng of students, never letting her eyes off his blond head. She caught up with him outside the gym. “Josh, please wait!”
He turned and glared at her as kids shuffled past, tossing curious looks in their direction. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
His face was red. Marilee knew he didn’t like drawing attention to himself, preferring anonymity to being noticed and risking ridicule. She often wondered why kids were so cruel. And to think she’d considered ending her life, when Josh was so completely alone in the world. “I need to talk to you, honey.”
“I have class.”
“Just give me five minutes, Josh. I don’t think that’s asking too much.”
His eyes blazed. “Don’t you get it, Mom? I don’t want to talk to you. I want to be left alone.”
His look wrenched her heart. “I don’t deserve this, Josh.”
But he was already gone, lost among the crowd. Marilee stood there, frozen, feeling as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, and for a moment she thought she’d be sick. Her eyes smarted as she staggered toward her car. She was only vaguely aware of the stares she received from some of the students. Don’t cry, she told herself. Don’t even think about it right now. The last thing she needed to do was arrive at her interview with swollen eyes.
She would cry later in the privacy of her room. In fact, she looked forward to it.
DENTON FUNERAL HOME was less than a mile from town, a massive, two-story colonial that housed the business in the basement and first floor, while the second floor served as an apartment for the family. When Irby Denton greeted Marilee on the wide porch, where ferns shuddered in the mid-September breeze, she saw that he’d changed very little since high school.
His hair was still fire-engine red, but his hairline had receded, and the laugh lines that bracketed his mouth were deeper. He wore the same mischievous look that had labeled him class clown and prankster as far back as kindergarten, where he’d swallowed one of Mrs. Finch’s goldfish, sending the young teacher into a frenzy and causing one girl to throw up on her new Mary Janes. His parents had been promptly summoned to the school, and he was given a three-day suspension. Upon his return, his desk was placed at the front of the class, near Mrs. Finch, who was perturbed that he’d botched her alphabetical seating arrangements.
“Marilee, you look as pretty as you did the day they crowned you homecoming queen,” Irby said, giving her a bear hug that she half feared would crack a rib. His wife, Debbie, stood beside him. They’d married right after graduation, and Marilee still recalled how the tongues had wagged when Debbie gave birth only eight months after their wedding night. Debbie’s mother had declared to family and friends that the child was premature, despite the fact the newborn had weighed more than eight pounds. The couple had gone on to have a total of four children, ranging from eighteen months to sixteen years old.
“You look wonderful,” Debbie said, a toddler propped on one hip. “You’re going to have to give me your beauty secrets.”
Marilee wondered if they were simply trying to soothe her wounded ego, now that Grady had publicly humiliated her. “Thank you. I don’t believe I’ve met the latest addition to the Denton family.”
Debbie looked proud. “This is Ben, named after Irby’s grandfather. We call him Bennie.”
“Nice to meet you, Bennie.” She tried to shake his hand playfully, but he pulled away and buried his face against Debbie’s breasts.
“He’s shy,” Debbie said. “And a little spoiled.”
“Come on in the house,” Irby said. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Marilee followed, stepping over a toy car as she went. “No, thanks.”
Irby picked up the toy and handed it to his wife. “Honey, you’re going to have to tell David to keep his toys upstairs. I can’t have folks tripping over them when they come through the door.”
Debbie nodded wearily. “I’ve tried, Irby, believe me.”
He nodded sympathetically. “I know.” He looked at Marilee. “It’s not easy, a big family like ours living upstairs like we do, but it’s cheaper this way. We have the space, mind you, but the kids still wander downstairs from time to time. Debbie, would you watch the phones while I chat with Marilee for a bit?”
“Of course.”
Irby led Marilee through the reception area, passing several closed doors that she knew from experience were parlors designed for relatives to view their loved ones before burial. Antiques in dire need of polishing adorned the rooms.
“Here we are,” Irby said once they’d reached a paneled office. The furniture looked as though it had come from a garage sale. A computer sat on a battered credenza, the screen saver a scrolling marquee that read, People Are Dying to Come Here. “Have a seat, Marilee.”
“Thank you.” Marilee sat down and was met with what sounded like a giant fart. She leaped from the chair, and then frowned at the sight of a whoopee cushion. “Irby Denton, won’t you ever grow up!”
He looked surprised. “I swear I didn’t do it,” he said, rounding the desk and grabbing the cushion. He tossed it aside. “David, our ten-year-old, is obviously up to his old tricks.”
“And where do you suppose he learned them?” Marilee said, hands on hips.
Irby shrugged as though he hadn’t a clue. “I’ll tell you, the boy has no shame.” He looked remorseful despite one corner of his mouth tugging as though he would burst into laughter at the slightest provocation. “I should beat all of our children, but Debbie won’t permit it. That’s why they’re so spoiled.”
Marilee knew Irby wouldn’t beat a rug to rid it of dust. “Well, I hope I have no more surprises this morning.”
“I’m going to be on my best behavior.” He reclaimed his seat and shuffled through a mountain of papers on his desk. “I was…uh…sorry to hear about you and Grady. Debbie said I shouldn’t bring it up but if there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”
Marilee clenched her hands in her lap. “Thank you for your concern, Irby, but don’t worry.”
He cleared his throat. “This place is a mess,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. “My other assistant eloped two weeks ago, leaving me high and dry. Debbie and I haven’t had a chance to catch up with all the paperwork. You can’t imagine how thrilled I was when Leanne from the Job Service called to tell me you were interested in working here. Debbie and I both agree you’re perfect for the job.”
Marilee sat up straighter in her chair. “Um, Irby, before we go on, I’d like to know exactly what duties I’m to perform.”
Irby reached for an Atlanta Braves baseball cap and plopped it on his head. “Just seein’ that the place runs smoothly. Sometimes I might need you to fill in for me if I’m in the middle of something and can’t let go.”
“Fill in?” Her voice wavered.
“You know, hose down a body, stick ‘em in the goozle and drain the good stuff. Sew a few eyelids closed.”
Marilee paled instantly. She covered her mouth.
“Hey, I’m just having fun with you, Marilee.” Irby looked concerned. “Are you okay, honey? You can’t take things too seriously around here, know what I mean?”
“That wasn’t funny, Irby. Nor was swallowing that goldfish.”
“That happened a long time ago, Marilee. I’ve matured since then. Okay, maybe not as much as I should have, but I promise I’ll be serious from now on.” He put on a pair of reading glasses, as if that in itself would do the trick. “The main thing you have to do is cover the phones and know where to find me in case I have a body run.”
“Body run?”
“That’s not exactly how we refer to it in front of our clients. The correct term is body removal, but it means the same thing.” He reached back and patted the computer. “You know how to operate one of these babies?”
Marilee nodded. “I worked in the church office long enough to learn the basics.”
“Many of our clients have already made funeral preparations, and it’s all listed right here, down to the last detail. We even have pictures on file so Debbie can copy their hair and makeup. We want them to look as natural as we can.” He rolled his eyes. “Some of the ladies make arrangements beforehand to have their regular hairdressers come in, if you can believe it. I’ve never understood that, but I go along with it anyway. I reckon I ought to order some blue rinse and put a salon chair back there, only we’d have to strap ‘em in. Know what I mean?”
Marilee chose to ignore the remark. She desperately needed the job. “Will I be expected to meet with the families?”
“Sometimes. This is a funny business. We have weeks where it’s slower’n molasses running down a cold stovepipe, other times I don’t know if I’m coming or going. But you won’t have any trouble. You’ve helped folks through bad times before.” He reached for a folder. “Our fees are listed according to the needs of individual families. You’ll want to study this so you’re prepared.”
Marilee took the folder and glanced through it, noting the various price options. “What do you do in the event someone can’t pay in advance?”
“I know this sounds harsh, Marilee, but I insist the families pay up front. It’s not like I can go dig up someone if the family can’t cough up the rest of the money. Although I’ve threatened to on a few occasions,” he muttered.
“Sometimes you’ll get family members who want to send off a loved one in high style, and you know just by looking at them that they can’t afford it. You need to try and talk ‘em down as far as costs. And they want to stick the craziest things in the coffin with the deceased. One woman had us put her husband’s portable TV set in with him because she said all he ever did while he was alive was watch television.” He grinned. “’Course, I had to cut off his legs to fit the damn thing in there with him.”
Ignore, ignore, ignore. “Um, Irby?”
“Yes?”
She shifted in her chair. “Do you get many young people?”
His look sobered instantly. “Not often, thank God. They’re tough. Debbie won’t go near them, seein’ as how we have kids and all.” He paused. “That’s why you can’t take things so seriously, Marilee.”
Marilee suddenly realized why Irby joked so much.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. “We have a questionnaire we ask our new clients to fill out. Usually their minister has already been contacted, but in cases where the deceased wasn’t a member of a church, we have a couple of clergy who fill in when necessary. You’ll need information for the obituary.” He paused. “You play the piano, don’t you?”
Marilee nodded, wondering what one had to do with the other. “My mother insisted that all young ladies should know how to play.”
“In some cases, the family decides to hold services in our small chapel. You could pick up extra money if you played for them. Anywhere from fifty to a hundred bucks.”
“That’s more than I made teaching piano lessons,” Marilee said.
“It’s entirely up to you, of course.” He clasped his hands together at the back of his neck. “So, what do you say? You want the job or not?”
Marilee was surprised. “Just like that?”
“You’re the perfect candidate. I can start you at eight dollars an hour, which is more than I was paying my last assistant.”
It wasn’t a lot of money but to Marilee, who’d done volunteer work for so long without receiving a penny, it sounded good. “I’d like to give it a try. I promise to do my best.”
“I never doubted it for a minute. Now, let me show you around.”
“Show me around?”
“You know, in case you need to use the ladies’ room while you’re here. You’ll definitely want to know where the bathrooms are located.”
Once again, Marilee followed Irby. They reentered the reception area, where Debbie was bouncing Bennie on her knee and talking on the phone. Irby explained Marilee’s job duties, and then led her to three individual parlors, one of which held an assortment of flowers.
“This is where Mr. Elmore’s family will be receiving visitors this evening,” he said.
“Dan Elmore, who used to own the Plaza Theater?”
“The very same. I wish I had a dime for every time he caught me trying to sneak into the theater for free.”
“He was up in age, wasn’t he?”
“Almost ninety. But fit as a fiddle till the very end.”
“How’d he die?”
“Fell off a ladder while painting his house. His wife went all to pieces.”
“I can imagine.”
“Said she had to go and hire a painter to finish the job.” He glanced around the room. “Yes sir, there’ll be quite a crowd tonight. That’s why I’m putting Dan in room A. It’s our largest parlor.” He showed her the other rooms, one of which was considerably smaller. “This one is used mostly for private funerals or for those who don’t have many friends.”
Marilee thought of mean old Esmerelda Cunningham.
“And this,” Irby said, opening a set of double doors, “is the casket room.”
Marilee wasn’t prepared, and she took a step back. “Oh my.”
“It’s okay,” Irby said, cupping her elbow gently. “This is not a very pleasant room, but there’ll be times you’ll have to escort a family in here so they can pick out something for the deceased. Some people are very particular and want to know everything, others will leave it up to us. Just think of it as picking out an automobile.”
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Marilee said. She pointed at a bronze-colored coffin. “That one’s nice.”
“That’s our Cadillac of coffins, so to speak,” Irby said, leading her over. “Naturally, we put the nicest ones up front, hoping our clients will choose the most expensive.” He grinned. “Pretty vulgar, huh? But hey, I’ve got four kids to raise. Let me show you the satin lining inside.” He lifted the top section.
Marilee glanced down and saw what looked like skeletal remains. She was only vaguely aware of the baseball cap and hideous smile. All the blood drained from her face, and she let out a scream. She raced from the room, praying her knees would not buckle beneath her, and slammed into Debbie, almost knocking her and Bennie over as she scrambled toward the front door.
“What in heaven’s name!” Debbie said.
“There’s a…dead person in that coffin,” Marilee cried.
“Damn that Irby,” Debbie said, her expression dark and menacing. “He’s gone too far this time.” She grabbed Marilee’s hand. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s just a rubber skeleton.” Marilee was sobbing. Debbie shook her slightly. “It’s not real.”
“What?” Marilee realized she was hysterical.
“Irby Denton, get your sorry self in here right this minute!” Debbie shouted at the top of her lungs. “Marilee, sit down before you fall down.”
Marilee took a chair next to the front door in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
Irby appeared, looking sheepish. “Gee, Marilee, I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Just having a little fun, right?” Debbie snapped, causing Bennie to cry. “It’s not a damn bit funny, Irby, and I wouldn’t blame Marilee if she told you to shove the job up your behind.” She looked at Marilee. “Honey, do you need smelling salts?”
Marilee shook her head, feeling foolish now that she realized the skeleton wasn’t real. Nevertheless, it was a cruel trick on Irby’s part. She tossed him a menacing look.
“I should clobber you.”
“Go ahead and punch him,” Debbie said. “Lord knows he deserves it.” She tried to comfort the squalling child, even as she continued shouting at her husband. “This is a funeral home, not a playground!”
Irby looked contrite. “I promise it won’t happen again, Marilee. Do you still want the job?”
Marilee regarded him. He truly looked pitiful standing there. “I’ll take the job on a temporary basis, but if you try that sort of thing with me again you’ll be looking for a new assistant.”
Irby nodded, shamefaced. “How soon can you start?”
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that Tate Radford was the best lawyer in Chickpea. Luckily, he’d had a cancellation; otherwise, Marilee would have had to wait three weeks to get an appointment.
She chose a smart navy suit for the occasion. It wasn’t pure linen, but one would have been hard-pressed to prove it, because it certainly looked like the real McCoy. Her navy heels wore a designer label and would have cost a fortune if she hadn’t found them in a consignment shop. The outfit gave her a look of sophistication—at least she hoped so, because she needed all the confidence she could muster.
She’d spent a sleepless night worrying about Josh. Marilee was sure that below his anger lay a feeling of loneliness and desolation, but how could she convince him to reach out to her? She was an emotional wreck just thinking about it. No mother wanted her child to suffer, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart, not when she was putting plans in motion to get him back.
Later, when all this was behind her and she had a little time on her hands, she would allow herself the mother of all nervous breakdowns.
“Mrs. Abernathy, you can go in now,” the young receptionist called out, startling Marilee from her thoughts. “Second door on the left.”
“Thank you.” Marilee stood and smoothed her skirt into place. Tucking her handbag under one arm, she proceeded down a short hall, gulping in air as she went. The door opened and a tall, angular man stepped out.
“Mrs. Abernathy, I’m Tate Radford.” He offered his hand and they shook before he led her inside his office.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Marilee said, realizing she had taken in too much air and now felt dizzy. It would be just her luck to hyperventilate in the man’s office.
“Please sit down,” he said, motioning to a chair. Seating himself on the other side of his desk, he gave her an odd look. “Mrs. Abernathy, are you okay? You look pale.”
She nodded. “I’m fine. This is my first time, you see. Not the first time I’ve been in a lawyer’s office, of course. I had to deal with my parents’ attorney after my mother passed on, but that’s neither here nor there. This is my first…uh…divorce.”
He looked sympathetic. “Do you think there’s a chance of reconciliation?”
Marilee was surprised by the question. Even if Grady wanted her back, which wasn’t likely, now that he had a woman who probably knew more positions than Dr. Ruth, how would she ever trust him again? He had betrayed her, not only as her husband, but by throwing away all they’d believed in, the very foundation of their marriage. He’d turned his back on his family and work because he’d lusted for another woman, simple as that. Worse, Grady’d taken their son into that woman’s house, where he and LaFonda were living without benefit of marriage. Not that Grady was free to marry at this point, mind you, but he could have waited, instead of flaunting the affair.
“Mrs. Abernathy?”
Marilee looked up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Radford. This has been one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made, and believe me, I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about it. The answer to your question is no. I do not want a reconciliation. I never thought I’d say this, but I want to get out of this marriage as quickly as possible. And I want my son with me so he can live a normal life. I sense he’s very troubled, and he needs guidance. He won’t find it where he is presently living.” She paused to catch her breath. “I guess you were just expecting a simple yes-or-no answer, huh?”
“I want my clients to feel comfortable talking to me, Mrs. Abernathy. Is your husband, by chance, Reverend Grady Abernathy from Chickpea Baptist Church?”
“He was, but he was asked to leave.”
“That might prove helpful to our case.” Tate pulled a yellow legal pad from his desk drawer. “I’d like to jot down a few notes if you don’t mind. Now, you say your husband is living with a woman. Do you know her name?”
“LaFonda Bonaire. At least that’s what she calls herself. Her real name is Betty Clump.”
“So you can prove your husband is committing adultery?”
“Yes. They’re living in her mobile home in Tall Pines Trailer Park.”
“And he has your son? How old is the boy?”
“Fifteen. His name is Josh.”
Tate sat back in his chair and regarded her. “Do you think your husband took Josh against his will?”
Marilee looked at her hands. “I don’t know what to think, Mr. Radford. My son has been going through a rebellious stage for some time now. Our relationship was strained before he left. He may very well have gone on his own.” It wasn’t easy for her to admit that, even to herself.
“I have teenagers myself, Mrs. Abernathy. I think divorce is hard on kids at any age, but it seems to hit them hardest in the teen years. Also, the boy probably has more freedom living with his dad, and when you’re a teenager that seems to matter more than anything. Have you tried talking to him?”
Marilee told him about her trip to the school. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”
“He’s probably ashamed of what he’s done. Frankly, I don’t know why your husband wants the boy there in the first place. Seems like it would crowd the love nest.”
Marilee shrugged. “Maybe he feels less guilty this way.”
Tate folded his hands across his stomach. “I’ll level with you, Mrs. Abernathy. It won’t be easy getting your son back if he prefers being with his dad. After all, he’s old enough to decide with whom he wishes to live. If he were younger, you’d have no problem getting custody. As it stands, you’ll have to fight, and that’s going to cost money.”
Marilee shifted in her chair. “How much?”
“First we have to prove, without a doubt, that your husband is living with this Miss Bonaire. I can hire a private investigator to spend a couple of nights watching the place, get your husband’s comings and goings on video. As for your son, I’d advise you to hire a child advocate, someone who will do a home study of both residences and decide the best interests of your child. You’re looking at a cost of several thousand dollars, plus my retainer, which is fifteen hundred. Now, if we get into a custody battle, my bill is going to be substantially higher. I’ll need about six thousand dollars in an escrow account if we’re to proceed with the child advocate.”
Marilee’s heart sank. She reminded herself she was doing it for Josh, and suddenly money didn’t seem to matter as much. “I think I can put my hands on that much money. My husband and I had a modest savings account, but he’s already taken out half.”
Radford arched one eyebrow. “I suggest you get to the bank before he has a chance to clean it out completely. Once you retain me as counsel, I’ll arrange for a temporary hearing and request visitation with your son. The home study will take longer.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from a file. “I’ll need you to fill out this financial statement and give me a sworn affidavit as to what led to the breakup of your marriage. Like I said, if we can prove adultery, I can have you divorced in ninety days, but should custody become an issue, there’s no telling how long it’ll take.”
Marilee nodded. “I’ll have the money before you close your office this afternoon.”
JOSH ABERNATHY STOOD AT the entrance to Tall Pines Trailer Park and waited for the school bus. On the other side of the pockmarked road, three teenagers smoked cigarettes and watched him. Two of them were his age; one was older. He knew the older guy’s reputation and decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Every now and then one of the younger kids would make a wisecrack, and the other would burst into laughter. Josh didn’t have to be psychic to know they were talking about him. People had been making fun of him all his life. The preacher’s kid, they called him, as if he didn’t have a name of his own. Goody Two-shoes. Fatso.
He didn’t belong, and he never had. Not with the kids who wore faded jeans with holes in the knees, and certainly not with the jocks, who ragged him in the shower because he’d put on weight over the past couple of years. He’d stopped showering, only to be made fun of in sixth period for being sweaty, so then he’d stopped participating in gym class at all. Instead, he sat on the bleachers and flunked the class each semester.
His mother claimed he wasn’t fat, said he was just a big kid, but he knew he outweighed kids his own age by a good twenty-five or thirty pounds. When he wore thin T-shirts he could see the roll in his stomach, which was why he’d started wearing black, short-sleeve sweatshirts. His parents said he looked as if he was in mourning, but he didn’t care. Actually, he felt as though someone or something had died. He’d had that feeling for a long time now, although he couldn’t say exactly when it had begun. Probably it had started a couple of years back, when his parents had stopped talking.
Josh heard the boys snicker, but he refused to look their way. Where was the bus, anyway?
“Hey, lard-ass, you want a drag of this here cigarette?” one boy asked.
The older guy remained detached, as though his thoughts were elsewhere.
Josh ignored them. He no longer cared what people thought. When he was younger he’d go off by himself and cry. Now he just shrugged it off. He wished he’d stayed in bed. He wished he was invisible.
He was invisible as far as his dad was concerned. All the man could think of was his new girlfriend. Josh wondered if his dad had lost it. One minute he was this respected minister bent on saving the world, next thing Josh knew he was banging some waitress and selling used cars at the Ford dealership.
“You know, smoking speeds up your metabolism,” the other kid said. “Might get rid of some of that blubber.”
“Would you two shut the hell up?” the oldest kid snapped. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m sick of listening to you. Besides, he ain’t messing with nobody.”
Josh saw the bus in the distance. He hated school. Sleep was really the only thing he liked these days. As long as he was asleep he didn’t have to think about how screwed up his life had become.
Sleep made him feel invisible.
SAM BREWER SHOOK HIS head sadly as he and one of his crew took a tour of Blessing Home. “It would be easier to tear this place down and start from scratch,” the man said.
Sam nodded. “I don’t know how they managed to pass inspection all these years. The wiring is so old it’s a wonder the place hasn’t burned to the ground. And the plumbing is prehistoric.” He shook his head. “God only knows what’s holding up the roof. The house is not structurally sound.”
The other man scratched his jaw. “Needs a lot of work, that’s for sure. No telling how much it’d cost.”
Sam sighed. He had so many jobs going on he had no idea where he’d find the time. He should never have offered to look at the place and get Marilee’s hopes up, because Blessing Home looked like a lost cause, as far as he was concerned.
The last thing he needed was something else to worry about.
RUBY, CLARA AND WINNIE WERE waiting for Marilee when she arrived home. A large pizza sat on the kitchen table, and Winnie was putting out napkins and paper plates. “Congratulations on the new job, honey,” Ruby said, hugging Marilee.
Marilee looked surprised. “How’d you know I was hired?”
“News travels quickly in this town,” Clara said.
“That’s for sure,” Winnie muttered. “Can’t take a leak in this town without everybody knowing about it.” She eyed Marilee and propped her hands on her hips. “You look upset.”
Marilee sighed. “I just left my attorney’s office. I had to hand over six thousand dollars.”
“For a simple divorce?” Ruby shrieked. “Hell’s bells, I got one of those ninety-nine-dollar divorces. You see them all the time in the newspaper.”
Marilee explained why she’d paid so much. “I had to do it. For Josh.”
“Is anyone going to have some of this pizza?” Winnie asked. “I’m starving. I have to think of the baby, you know.” She offered the box, and the women took a slice.
“Josh’ll come around, honey,” Ruby said. “He’s just angry right now, and what child wouldn’t be. Divorce is hard on kids.”
Clara pursed her lips. “But six thousand dollars! That’s highway robbery, if you ask me. Did you wipe out your entire savings account?”
Marilee shook her head. “There’s still some left, but I withdrew it and moved it to my checking account so Grady can’t get to it. I have the money my parents left, but I’m determined not to touch it. That’s for Josh’s education.” She shrugged. “I’m going to have to find a night job, at least until Josh moves in, so I can try to replace the money in case of an emergency.”
“Who’s going clean this place and cook while you work day and night?” Winnie demanded. “I hope you don’t expect me to take care of everything. This is stressing me out. That’s why I hate getting involved with people who have more problems than me.”
“I picked up a newspaper after I left Tate’s office,” Marilee said, ignoring Winnie’s remark. “I just scanned it, but I think I may have found something I can do in the evenings.”
“What’d you find, honey?” Ruby asked.
“They need someone to play the piano at the Pickford Inn.”
“What?” Clara cried. “You’re not going to work in a nightclub? Oh, Marilee, you can’t be serious.”
“It’s a supper club,” Ruby said. “Very upscale.”
Clara pursed her lips. “You may call it what you like, but they still serve alcohol.”
“One drink before dinner never hurt anyone,” Ruby said.
Clara looked at her. “This coming from a woman who has a distillery under the front seat of her truck.” She gave a harrumph. “Marilee, you simply cannot do this. What are folks going to say when they find out you’re playing piano in a bar? You know they’ll go straight to Grady, and he’ll do anything he can to make you look bad in front of that child advocate. This could definitely work against you.”
Marilee shoved her plate aside. She had not thought of that. Would the child advocate hold it against her if she took a job in a supper club? She doubted it. But if Grady found out, he’d try to make her look as bad as he could, in order to make himself look good. “Pickford is thirty miles away,” she said, thinking out loud. “I wouldn’t think I’d run into anyone from Chickpea.”
Clara didn’t look convinced. “You’re still taking a chance.”
“I need the money, Clara.”
“You could wear a disguise,” Ruby said. “I can fix you up so that your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. That way you won’t have to worry about any of the town gossips recognizing you. When do you plan to go for the interview?”
“Tonight. I want to get a jump-start on the other applicants.”
“I’ll run home and grab my supplies after I eat.”
“Are you not going to eat your pizza?” Winnie asked Marilee.
“And you plan to work at the funeral home too?” Clara asked.
Marilee nodded. “I plan to do whatever’s necessary to get Josh back.”
“If you’re not going to eat your pizza, I will,” Winnie said, reaching for the untouched slice.
Clara sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out a small metal cylinder. “I know how you are when you make up your mind, so I’m not going to try and talk you out of it. But I’d feel better if you’d keep this pepper spray on you in case something unforeseen occurs.”
“I don’t have the job yet,” Marilee said, “and I wish you’d stop worrying. The Pickford is not a sleazy beer joint.”
“Oh, you’ll get the job,” Ruby assured her. “I don’t know a single soul who can sing and play the piano as well as you.”
“Take the pepper spray, Marilee.”
“Thank you, Clara,” she said, touched by her concern. “I know this is hard for you to accept. None of us ever suspected my life would take such a turn. I mean, Grady was a good minister. He genuinely cared about his congregation. And I just assumed all marriages had problems now and then, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I have to do what I have to do. It’s just…well, I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.”
“Oh, Lord, she’s going to start crying again,” Winnie said.
Marilee shook her head. “I’m finished crying. I have too much to do to sit around and feel sorry for myself.”
Ruby patted her hand. “Good for you, honey. You’re stronger than you think.”
Winnie shook her head sadly. “It’s not going to be that easy. You’re going to need someone to look after you, make sure you eat regular meals and have clean clothes to wear. I guess I’m going to have to hang around awhile longer. At least until you get used to working all those hours.”
“That’s very kind of you, Winnie,” Clara said. “Ruby and I will help too.”
Ruby nodded emphatically. “Darn right we will.”
“Thank you,” Marilee said. “I don’t know what I would do without the three of you.”
“You’d probably do okay,” Winnie said. “You’re not as weak as I thought in the beginning.”
Marilee decided that was the closest Winnie would come to giving her a compliment. She pushed her chair from the table. “I need to practice a few songs on the piano,” she said. “I’m sure it’s dreadfully out of tune, but at least it’ll help limber up my fingers.”
Ruby stood. “And I need to run home and pick up a few supplies. For your disguise,” she added, winking conspiratorially.
“Who’s going to clean up this mess?” Winnie demanded.
“I’ll do it,” Clara volunteered.
Winnie shook her head. “Never mind, I’ll do it. You don’t know where anything goes, and I can’t have you putting stuff in the wrong place, especially after I’ve cleaned the refrigerator and organized the cabinets.”
MARILEE WAS PRACTICING ON the old piano when Ruby returned carrying a short, platinum-colored wig, a small suitcase and a flaming-red dress. “Belonged to my ex-roommate,” she said, holding the slinky outfit up for inspection. “The poor girl was a perfect size eight till her boyfriend dumped her, and she decided to eat her way through her depression. I think she was a size fourteen when she climbed on the Greyhound bus for home. Said I could do what I wanted with her clothes.”
“I wear a size ten,” Marilee said.
“That was before Grady ran off, honey. You’ve probably dropped ten pounds and don’t know it. Besides, if the dress is a little snug that’ll work in your favor. Now, sit down. I’m about to make a new woman out of you.”
Clara and Winnie sat down as well and watched while Ruby worked her magic. When she was finished Marilee, who had never been heavy-handed with her makeup, couldn’t believe the difference.
“Wow,” Winnie said. “You look like a movie star. If I’d looked that good when I told my old man I was pregnant, maybe he wouldn’t have walked out on me.”
Clara didn’t look pleased. “I think it’s a bit much. Remember, less is more.”
“She’s going to be working under dim lighting,” Ruby said. “So what do you think, honey?”
“You did a fine job, Ruby. But I’ll never be able to learn how to do all this.”
“I’ll teach you. In the meantime, I’ll plan to drop by after work each day so I can fix you up.” She began pinning up Marilee’s hair, and then put the wig in place. “What d’you think?” she said.
Winnie gave Ruby the thumbs-up. “Lookin’ good.”
“Marilee is a beautiful woman. All I did was enhance her features. Now, let’s get you into that dress.” She grabbed the garment and ushered Marilee into her bedroom. When they returned, Marilee’s cheeks were stained the color of the dress.
Winnie’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “That thing clings to you like a second skin. I didn’t realize you had such a nice figure. You have to stop dressing like a librarian.” Clara cleared her throat. Winnie looked at her. “Guess I shouldn’t have said that, huh?”
Marilee tried not to take offense. “I think my clothes are fashionable.”
“A little on the prim side,” Winnie said, “but hey, I’m not exactly on the cutting edge of fashion.”
Ruby preened over her handiwork. “I’ll bring over a few more dresses tomorrow night.”
“Just keep that pepper spray handy,” Clara said, “in case some man loses control of his desires the minute he sees you.”
Marilee walked them to the front door. Once they were on their way, she closed the door and leaned against it. Her stomach was tied in knots at the thought of what she was about to do. Perhaps it was time she took a few chances in life.
The doorbell rang, startling her. Marilee figured Ruby must’ve forgotten some of her supplies. She opened the door and found Sam Brewer standing there.
“Marilee, is that you?” he asked, blinking several times.
She’d forgotten for a moment how she was dressed. She blushed. “Hello, Sam.”
“You look…different.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” she said, patting the wig self-consciously. “I’m sort of in a hurry. Is there something I can do for you?”
He handed her the iron. “I wanted to return this. I found mine.” He remained standing there. He knew he was staring—gawking, actually—but he couldn’t help himself.
“Thank you.” He continued to stand there. “Anything else?”
“Huh?” With some difficulty, Sam managed to pry his eyes from the red dress that clung to her figure so well. Damn, but she looked good. “Oh, yeah. I stopped by Blessing Home today. I have to tell you, Marilee, it needs a lot of work. The place looks like it’s ready to collapse.”
“But it can be repaired, right?”
“We’re talking a lot of money.”
“Will three thousand dollars cover it?”
He shook his head, hoping to clear his brain. All the blood had obviously rushed to another part of his body. “It won’t even come close. There’s structural damage.”
Marilee sighed. “We’ll have to come up with more money. Can you at least start working on the roof?” she asked, wishing he had chosen another time to burden her with the news. She had enough to worrying about at the moment.
“I’m kind of backed up on my other jobs, so I’ll have to do it in my spare time.”
She was beginning to wonder if the girls would ever be able to move back into the home. “Thank you, Sam, that’s very thoughtful of you. I know you’ll do your best. Send me an invoice for the roof, and I’ll get our treasurer to write you a check right away.”
As she watched him go, she wondered where on earth they would find the money to do all the work that was needed. But she couldn’t worry about that now.
She had an audition.
CHAPTER SIX
PICKFORD WAS TWICE THE SIZE of Chickpea and boasted a medium-size mall, which was the only reason Marilee had visited the town in the past. She drove Josh there to shop for school clothes once a year, and she returned in December for Christmas gifts. As soon as she arrived, she stopped at a convenience store and asked for directions to the address listed in the newspaper.
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Charlotte Hughes
Marilee Abernathy's life is a mess. Everyone in Chickpea, South Carolina, knows about her husband's affair with the town floozy.But when her dignified farewell–complete with pearls and impeccably applied Mary Kay cosmetics–turns into a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to hang herself from a fake ceiling beam, Marilee figures there has to be a better way to cope.Marilee needs a new attitude–at least, that's what her neighbor Sam Brewer thinks. Between his demanding mother and his crazy ex-wife, though, the last thing he wants is another woman whose life is out of control. But Marilee's learning on her own that a little attitude can go a long way–suddenly she's taking charge and taking chances she'd never imagined. And watching her blossom reminds Sam of some long-forgotten dreams of his own. Now he's just got to convince her to turn some of that attitude his way….
“Are you still bad to the bone, Sam Brewer?”
Marilee couldn’t resist teasing.
“I must not be too bad if you’re standing out here in the dark with me.”
He stepped closer, and Marilee froze. His face was only inches from hers. He was too handsome for his own good, and for one wild and insane minute she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he reached around and opend her door.
“Good night, Marilee,” he said. “Don’t forget to use the chain on your door until I can fix it.”
She realized she was holding her breath, and when she let it out, hot air gushed from her lungs with such force it made her light-headed. She swayed slightly.
Sam caught her, a look of concern crossing his face. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine,” she said, annoyed that she had been so taken in by his good looks that she’d almost swooned. Swooned, for heaven’s sake! Nobody did that sort of thing anymore.
“You looked mighty nervous there for a moment. You didn’t think I was going to kiss you, did you?” An easy smile played at the corners of his lips.
Charm and sensuality oozed from him. Yes, he was as bad as they came, at least where women were concerned. “You’re still a scoundrel, Sam Brewer.”
Without another word, Marilee hurried inside and closed the door, securing the chain with trembling hands. She heard Sam laugh softly on the other side.
MORE PRAISE FOR THE BOOKS OF CHARLOTTE HUGHES
A New Attitude
“I was howling with laughter at this hilarious book—I highly recommend it.”
—Kathy Boswell, The Best Reviews
“A lighthearted but insightful and entertaining contemporary romance.”
—Romance and Friends
“The funniest book I ever read!”
—Amanda Kilgore, A Romance Review
Hot Shot
“One of the best books of the year…every wonderful character created by Charlotte Hughes is outstanding.”
—Affaire de Coeur (Five Stars)
“A tough-talking, in-your-face heroine…romantic comedy at its best.”
—New York Times bestselling author Janet Evanovich
“A delightful read with very real characters readers can relate to and root for.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub
And After That, The Dark
“One of those Southern Thrillers that never lets up and makes you unable to put it down. It’s exciting enough to even give terror a good name. Charlotte Hughes is the real thing.”
—New York Times bestselling author Pat Conroy
“Hughes holds her own with the likes of Mary Higgins Clark and Sharon McCrumb….”
—Sun News, Myrtle Beach
Dear Reader,
I am thrilled that HQN Books has decided to reissue A New Attitude! This is truly my all-time favorite book, and from the amount of mail I received—a lot of readers asking for a sequel—I think it struck a chord in them, as well. I laughed and cried while writing this book; and it was very hard to let go of some of the characters when I finished it. Some readers have described the humour as “gut-busting” and “belly-aching!” I hope, as you travel the emotional roller coaster with my character Marilee Abernathy and meet her wacky, sometimes outrageous girlfriends, that you’ll find plenty of reasons to laugh (and maybe cry) as well.
Happy reading,
Charlotte Hughes
Other books by Charlotte Hughes
Hot Shot
Millionaire Cop & Mom-To-Be
Night Kills
Valley of the Shadow
And After That, The Dark
Also by Charlotte Hughes with New York Times bestselling author Janet Evanovich
Full Bloom
Full Blast
Full Speed
Full Tilt
Full House
A New Attitude
Charlotte Hughes
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to “girlfriends” everywhere.
Behind every successful woman
there’s a girlfriend cheering her on!
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u9e88685a-ed86-53b2-bad5-08657cd3667e)
CHAPTER TWO (#uda74b877-5e40-5521-b2c0-4b796ef8d9f6)
CHAPTER THREE (#u24874fed-8294-5441-8342-4613012590d7)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u1fe173c5-1d24-527d-b900-8103e0e6c978)
CHAPTER FIVE (#u783e71de-5b57-51a5-88eb-de45e9399967)
CHAPTER SIX (#u7c084a33-322f-527e-8669-ceb8a68d8fa0)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
MARILEE ABERNATHY HAD PLANNED HER suicide to the last detail. She’d gotten up at dawn, showered, and made up her face with the Mary Kay samples she’d won playing Tuesday-night bingo at church and saved for special occasions. Then she’d put on the beige linen suit and matching pillbox hat she’d bought at the Style Mart. It wasn’t Saks Fifth Avenue, mind you, but it was the only place in Chickpea, South Carolina, that didn’t have bright orange or lime-green polyester pantsuits hanging from a half-price rack at the back of the store.
She wore her mother’s pearl choker—you simply couldn’t go wrong with pearls—and the smart, two-tone, beige-and-white high heels she’d never even taken out of the box until today. She knew her shoes were inappropriate. Labor Day had come and gone and dark brown spectator pumps would have been more in keeping with the season, but Marilee had chosen style over tradition. When folks came to her funeral, she wanted them to stand back and take notice.
And say what a shame it was that Reverend Grady Abernathy had abandoned wife and church for some slut with implants and big hair.
As for Josh, Marilee couldn’t even think of her son without getting a lump in her throat the size of a turnip, and the absolute last thing she needed to do was start crying again. Someone might think she’d been crying over Grady, and she simply would not have it. Not after he’d turned their fifteen-year-old child against her and moved the boy right smack into the best little whorehouse in Chickpea. That her son had gone so willingly had been the lowest blow, and the closest Marilee had come to having a coronary.
She should have seen it coming. Josh had accused her of smothering him more than once, wanting to know where he was at all times, sticking her nose in his business, just being a regular pain in the butt as far as he was concerned. Marilee had to admit she’d become something of a nag and a worry-wart. As a result, she’d ended up alienating him—which explained why Josh was now living in Tall Pines Trailer Park with his father and a waitress by the name of LaFonda Bonaire.
The scandal had rocked the town and the church where Grady had preached for the past ten years. His dismissal came with a notice to evacuate the house provided by the church. A stunned and humiliated Marilee had packed their belongings in record time and put everything in storage. She’d been hiding out at her poor deceased parents’ house for the past three days, hoping and praying she would wake up and discover it had all been a bad dream. But it was real. One minute she’d had a family and a life, the next minute it was gone. It was as though a giant tornado had come through and sucked up everything she’d ever known and loved.
But none of that mattered now. What mattered was finding a way to end the pain. And she had thought she’d found it when she had pulled her car into the garage and closed the door with the engine running.
It had seemed like the perfect way to die: sit inside a closed garage with the engine running until she nodded off. Marilee didn’t know squat about carbon monoxide poisoning except that it was supposed to be painless. Like falling asleep.
So why in heaven’s name was she still alive?
She gazed about her vintage Ford. She still held her son’s baby blanket and the rubber duck he’d loved as a toddler. Life had been so much simpler then. Marilee had gotten pregnant on her wedding night. Grady had sent a dozen red roses to the hospital after she’d given birth, even though he was still in seminary school and they were barely making ends meet. She remembered as though it were yesterday the day they brought their newborn home.
Marilee remembered nursing Josh in the middle of the night, when the house was silent and all she could hear were the suckling noises he made. Even now she could close her eyes and conjure up the way he’d smelled, the feel of his downy hair against her cheek. And later, when his eyes lit up each time she walked into the nursery, his chubby arms reaching for her. She had been his world, his universe.
Now he no longer needed her. Funny how one could dismiss another human being so easily.
Marilee’s eyes flooded with tears, and she swiped at them and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The engine wasn’t running. She peered over the steering wheel at the gas gauge. The needle pointed straight up to half a tank. Marilee sighed wearily. Somehow, in all the rigamarole, she’d forgotten about the faulty gas gauge. It had caused her to run out of gas several times over the past six months because she’d thought she had enough fuel to get her home.
Obviously, it had happened again.
Wasn’t that just her luck!
Marilee wrenched open the door to the car and climbed out. There were still enough noxious fumes that she might be overcome after all, but she couldn’t count on it. She needed fuel. She paced a moment and then spied a dull-red gas can sitting in the corner of the garage. She paid a boy to cut her parents’ lawn twice a month. With any luck she’d come up with enough gas to get her to a service station.
The gas tank was empty, and Marilee had to bite back the four-letter word on her tongue. She would not resort to foul language. She planned to leave this world with her morals and dignity perfectly intact. Years from now folks would comment on what a lady she’d been, right up to the bitter end. Marilee noted the lawn mower and hurried over to it. She unscrewed the cap and looked inside. It was full! Her joy was short-lived, though, as she pondered how to get the gas from the lawn mower into the gas can so she could pour it into her tank.
Dang! This suicide business was not as easy as she’d thought it would be.
She walked around the garage, searching. A dusty garden hose was coiled on a shelf at the back. She examined it, but there was no telling how old it was. Her father had never thrown anything away in his life. Still, it should do the job. She went inside the house for a knife so she could slice off a three- or four-foot section. A few minutes later, Marilee was trying to siphon gasoline out of the lawn mower. She swallowed a mouthful, then spent the next few minutes coughing and gagging before she gave it a second attempt. Grady had made it all look so simple the time he’d done it. Once the gas started coming, she quickly moved her end of the hose to the tank, but in her rush, dropped it. She grabbed for it but was a split second too late. Gas spewed everywhere, dousing her hair, face and eyes. It felt like someone had set her eyeballs on fire.
“Hellfire and damnation!” To hell with dignity and morals! Marilee dropped the hose and raced blindly inside the house to the bathroom, where she bathed her eyes in cold water, ruining her perfect makeup and hairdo.
There went all her plans for a fashionable funeral. Irby Denton, who owned the local funeral home, would take one look at her and insist on a closed coffin. Marilee sat on the edge of the tub and wept. And here she thought she’d used up all her tears.
Where had she gone wrong? What had she done to Grady to make him hate her so? How could two people who’d once been so much in love, who’d vowed to God and themselves they’d never part, suddenly find themselves in such a mess?
It had to be the flannel nightgowns she wore to bed. And the floppy socks that kept her feet warm during the night. It was no wonder he’d left her. She’d failed her husband. She’d let herself go. Chased him right smack into the arms of another woman.
LaFonda Bonaire was probably allergic to flannel.
Finally, Marilee composed herself. She returned to the garage and shook her head at the sight. What a mess. Leaning against her car and feeling defeated, she could just imagine what Grady would say.
“Marilee,” he’d say, “if you had a brain you’d have to wear a warning label.”
Grady had never talked to her like that in the early years. He’d referred to her as his Sweet Pea. “Sweet Pea,” he’d say, “you are a sight to behold in that new dress,” or “Sweet Pea, what did you think of my sermon today?”
Now she was just plain old Marilee, who was rewarded with a weary sigh from him when she asked the simplest question. “Marilee, I don’t have time to worry about the Easter pageant. That’s your job.” Sigh. “Marilee, why are you bothering me with questions about the Christmas cantata when you know I have to prepare my sermon?” Another sigh. Or, “Marilee, why on earth would you serve taco salads at the senior citizens’ dinner when you know elderly people can’t eat spicy food? Have you any idea how many complaints I’ve received? I swear, Marilee, if you had a brain, you’d have to wear a warning label.”
There were times she felt she couldn’t do anything right, no matter how hard she worked. What about all the seniors’ dinners that had been successful? And had Grady forgotten just how many visitors they had at Easter and Christmas? Of course she wanted everything to go right. Some of those visitors became members.
She shook her head sadly. Maybe Grady was right. What did she know about anything? She gave a sniff. Not that Grady was some kind of genius, mind you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gotten kicked out of the church for sleeping with a woman who had a tattoo on her fanny that read Easy Rider. At least that’s what Darlene Milburn claimed, and she should know since she taught water aerobics at the YMCA. Darlene had “excused” LaFonda from class for wearing a thong bikini, of all things.
Another woman. That was the absolute last thing she had expected of him.
Marilee wondered if Grady’s recent diagnosis of high blood pressure had something to do with the change that had come over him. Seemed he was always tired and out of sorts or feeling under the weather. Her mother had long ago accused him of being a hypochondriac and although Marilee had defended him, there’d been times she’d thought the same thing. Lately, he’d become so moody she’d found herself tiptoeing around him. Then one day, right out of the blue, he told her he planned to leave the ministry.
Looking back, Marilee was surprised she hadn’t tried to kill herself sooner.
With a heartfelt sigh, she stood and walked into the living room. The place was gloomy and musty from being closed up for so long, and she hadn’t had the heart to do anything about it the past few days, hadn’t wanted to remember how warm and inviting the house had been when her parents were alive. Grady had wanted her to sell it once her mother passed on; he resented the utility bills they received every month for a place that had been closed up for two years. “You’ll never find closure until you let go of that house,” he’d said more than once. But Marilee had resisted. She’d planned to put it on the market later, when property values went up, then use the money to send Josh to college.
Sheets covered the furniture and the old piano where she had once practiced her scales under the tutelage of Mrs. Sadie Habersham until her behind felt as if it were growing into the piano bench. The wooden floors wore a thick layer of dust. Heavy brocade drapes locked out the early-morning sun. Lord, but they were ugly, what with those thick cords twisted together like a bunch of snakes in mating season. The tassels looked as though they belonged in a bordello. What had her mother been thinking? They’d obviously been on sale, because one thing Hester Brown had never been able to pass up was a K mart blue-light special or a clearance table.
Wait a minute…Cords?
Marilee stepped closer and examined them. Three nylon strands were braided to make one thick cord. She tugged hard. The fabric was still good and strong. She glanced up at the beam that ran beneath the raised ceiling, her mind working frantically. Her answer was right in front of her.
She would hang herself!
Marilee hurried into the kitchen, to the junk drawer where her mother had kept everything that would fit and crammed in those things that hadn’t. She found a pair of scissors and went to work. Each cord was about five feet long when she pulled the drapes open. She cut four lengths from the living-room drapes before making her way into the master bedroom and guest rooms, where the same drapes, different only in colors and degrees of ugliness, hung. It was no easy task cutting through the cords, and by the time she finished, she wore a blister at the base of her thumb. Gathering them together, Marilee realized she had enough cord to hang a gang of outlaws.
Grady had underestimated her. He figured since she’d never earned a college degree that he was the smarter of the two. It didn’t matter that the reason she hadn’t earned a degree was that she’d had to work two jobs to support them while he went to seminary school. Not that she’d minded. They were a team, working toward a future. Even when Grady sometimes felt he wasn’t meant to preach, she would reassure him, bolster his self-confidence. Wasn’t that part of being a wife and team member?
Once he’d become a pastor, she’d devoted her time to church activities. She’d been good at it too, or so she’d thought, until Grady began complaining about every little thing she did. It only made her more determined to work harder. Even if Grady found her lacking, others claimed she was the veritable backbone of Chickpea Baptist Church.
A lot of good it did her now.
Marilee sat on the sofa and began tying the cords together. The frayed tassels clashed with her outfit something awful, but she had no choice. An hour later, she had a sturdy, if gaudy-looking, hangman’s noose. She spent the next ten minutes trying to throw the noose over the beam, and was about to give up before she remembered the ladder in the garage. It could also be used as her jumping-off place.
Heavens, but she could be brilliant at times!
Marilee dragged the ladder inside the house and placed it beneath the beam. Holding one end of the cord between her teeth, she began climbing. Okay, so the ladder was a little wobbly. She suddenly remembered her fear of heights and became angry with herself. She didn’t have time to fret about every little thing.
Pausing halfway up, she attempted once again to throw the noose over the beam, all the while struggling to hang on to the ladder. Finally! She tied it so it wouldn’t pull free. Marilee knew how to tie just about every kind of knot there was, thanks to Josh’s stint in the Boy Scouts.
Crouching at the top of the ladder, she slipped the noose around her neck. Her hands trembled. She had no idea how much it was going to hurt, but the pain could be no worse than what she was feeling inside.
With an angry burst of determination, Marilee stood straight up. And banged her head on the ceiling beam with such force she almost fell off the ladder. In fact, she would have, had she not grabbed the beam to steady herself. The room spun wildly beneath her and she felt her eyes cross. Her skull throbbed. Afraid she’d given herself a concussion, Marilee stood there, trying to clear her head. The floor seemed miles away. It felt as if she was standing on top of Chickpea’s water tower, where she and Grady had sneaked up the night she’d turned sixteen. They’d kissed under the stars and promised to love one another forever.
Forever. So why, at age thirty-five, was she all alone in the world?
Marilee swallowed the lump in her throat. Well, she wasn’t really alone. She had friends who loved her, people who were probably worried sick about her this very moment. And she had a son. He might not like her right now, but what if he—heaven forbid—ended up blaming himself for her suicide? Josh would have to spend his entire life living with it.
What if he was just going through a stage and didn’t really hate her? What if there was the slightest chance of reconciliation?
What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she seen enough suffering in her life to know that everybody got a dose of it now and then? Parents died, kids rebelled, husbands cheated. And here she was, standing on top of this shoddy ladder with a noose around her neck and what could possibly be a serious head injury. Not only that—her best outfit and makeup were ruined, her shoes were all wrong and she smelled like a Texaco station.
She was being weak and selfish, Marilee told herself. She needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and start working on her problems, namely getting her son out of that den of iniquity. She needed to clean up her parents’ house, find a job and show folks that she was made of tougher stuff than this! And she was tough, dang it. As a minister’s wife, she had sat with the dying, comforted the bereaved and brought smiles to nursing-home patients who felt neglected, of no use to the world and wanted to die. “The Lord has a purpose for us all,” Marilee had told them. “He will bring us home when he’s ready. Until then, we must have faith.”
She was glad those poor people couldn’t see her now, those who were old and sick and in pain. She was young and healthy and had every reason to live. It didn’t feel that way right now, but tomorrow she might see things differently.
Tomorrow. She suddenly realized she wanted to wake up to another day, no matter how bleak the future seemed at the moment.
But first she had to get down this ladder in one piece.
Her mind made up, Marilee tried to decide the best way to descend without ending up in a wheelchair and sporting a handicapped sticker on her car. Working up her last nerve, she oh so slowly knelt at the very top, trying to balance herself like a seal on a large ball. Her high heels proved a serious hindrance, and she decided she had to remove them. Somehow. Still perched precariously, Marilee tried to slip one off, but the ladder gave a shudder and veered right. Quickly she leaned in the opposite direction but overcorrected. Dang, she thought, only a split second before she lost her balance and toppled.
She had been so intent on getting down she had forgotten to take off the noose. Now it snapped tight around her neck. She was only vaguely aware of a noise overhead, and then it sounded as if the whole house was crashing down around her. Poor Josh. It was her last thought. Something hit her on the head, and then there was blackness.
SAM BREWER WAS IN A FOUL MOOD. As he grabbed a shovel from the garage and carried it to his mother’s flower bed, he could only imagine what the neighbors were saying as they peered out the windows at him. Without a doubt, Edna-Lee Bodine from across the street had her nose pressed flat against the windowpane this very moment, watching and fogging up the glass.
“There goes Sam Brewer digging in his mother’s flower bed again,” she’d tell her husband, who kept his own nose buried in a newspaper. “No telling what that old bat has gone and buried this time.” There were times Sam wished his mother would bury Mrs. Bodine in the flower bed. “And just look at him,” Edna-Lee would say. “Why, he looks like a derelict. No telling when he last shaved or combed his hair.”
Sam knew he looked like hell, but how was he supposed to groom himself when almost everything he owned was buried? His mother had set out to make a point, and she’d done just that. After all, her great-great-grandmother had buried the family silver to protect it from the Yankees during the Civil War; Nell Brewer had decided it was up to her to protect their belongings from “Nurse Ratched,” as she referred to her latest caretaker, whom she claimed was stealing. Sam had to admit the retired nurse had the personality of a troll, but his mother had managed to run off several of her “companions” over the past six months. This latest one had stormed off the minute she caught wind of the accusations against her, just as his mother knew she would.
Now he was saddled with the chore of finding someone new, despite claims from his mother that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. That hadn’t been the case six months ago, when she’d insisted she was going blind and losing her mind and needed him there. He’d sold his construction company in Atlanta and moved home to Chickpea so he could personally look after her. Truth was, he’d been looking to leave the rat race behind and find a simpler life anyway. Now he was building single-family dwellings with an old high-school buddy, and Sam rather liked it that way.
Except that his mother was driving him crazy.
Why did women have to be so difficult?
That reminded him of what a royal pain in the butt his ex-wife was. It didn’t matter that they’d been divorced five years now. Shelly still called him for every little thing and was constantly borrowing money, despite the healthy alimony check he sent every month.
Seemed there was no way to win, especially where the opposite sex was involved.
With a muttered oath, Sam searched for a fresh mound of dirt that might produce his electric shaver and the iron he needed to press his shirt before he met with an architect in an hour. He drove the shovel into the soft ground and struck something solid. He pulled a plastic bag from the dirt. Ah-ha! He’d found his electric shaver, perfectly intact. At least his mother was thoughtful enough to wrap everything before sticking it into a hole in the ground. Nevertheless, it had to stop. Yesterday it had been his combs and toothbrush, which was why he looked like the world’s biggest slob.
He stabbed the dirt once more, just as a piercing scream ripped through the late-morning air, jolting his already strained nerves. Dropping the shovel, he lunged toward his house before he realized the sound had come from the Browns’ next door. He stopped, shook himself and turned in the opposite direction.
Sam jumped the hedges separating the properties and raced across the lawn like a marathon runner, skirting bushes and a large cast-iron pot that had gone to rust. He’d assumed the house was vacant. At least, he hadn’t noticed anyone coming or going. But it was of little concern to him as he took the front steps in one leap. He crossed the porch and knocked. No answer. The door was locked.
The scream still echoing in his mind, he knew he had no choice but to break down the door. He braced himself and rammed it hard. Pain ripped through his shoulder, radiated down his arm and arched across his back, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. He slammed against the door once more, and the sound of splintering wood told him he’d succeeded.
Stepping inside, Sam crossed a small foyer and stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the sight before him.
The woman on the floor appeared dead. Sam stumbled toward her prostrate body, stepping over Sheetrock as he went, his mind uncertain of what he was actually seeing. He noted the noose around her neck, made of what appeared to be a dozen multicolored tassels. The woman’s face and clothes were dusted in white, as though someone had just dumped a sack of flour on her head. He glanced up and saw that a portion of what was obviously a fake beam had been torn away. Had she hanged herself? Sure as hell looked like it.
Without wasting another second, Sam dropped to his knees, loosened the noose and performed CPR. He felt her stir and raised his head, inhaling deeply as he prepared to blow more air into her lungs.
MARILEE OPENED HER EYES, TAKING in the man before her, and her heart sank. From the looks of his unshaved jaw and wild black hair, she could only assume she’d died and landed in hell. She suspected angels took better care of themselves.
She tried to speak, but her throat hurt. “Excuse me,” she managed in a hoarse whisper. “Are you the devil?”
Sam stared at the woman for a full minute, trying to make sense of what she’d said. She was obviously delirious. Her face was pale. No telling how long that noose had been around her neck. Could very well have blocked desperately needed oxygen to her brain. “Where’s your phone?” he asked hurriedly. “I need to call an ambulance.”
Marilee’s eyes widened. Phone? Ambulance? She was alive! Relief flooded her, and she wondered again why she’d ever considered ending her life in the first place. To think she’d almost succeeded! Wasn’t that just her luck? Just when she’d found the strength to go on living, she’d come close to killing herself by accident.
She bolted upright, trying to disentangle herself from the cords and tassels. “Please don’t call anyone,” she said, too embarrassed to look at the stranger, even as she wondered how he happened to be there. “You have no idea what I’ve already been through.”
“You need medical attention, lady.” And a damn good psychiatrist, he thought. This woman made his mother’s antics seem normal.
“I’m fine, really.” Marilee scrambled to her feet but swayed, no doubt from the two head injuries she’d received. He caught her up before her legs, which felt as if they were made of mashed sweet potatoes, folded beneath her. The noose, still around her neck although no longer constricted, was an annoyance, but she was more concerned with the sudden pain in her ankle as she tried to steady herself. “I think I twisted my ankle,” she said. “I must’ve landed on it wrong. Other than that, I’m okay.” Well, not really, she thought. Her head throbbed. It felt as though the state of Texas was sitting on top of her skull.
All at once, Marilee realized the man was still holding her in his arms. The way Grady had held her when he’d carried her over the threshold on their wedding night. Oh, this was all wrong, she thought. It was simply not done. Why, it reeked of impropriety, and Marilee Abernathy had been raised a lady. Her poor mother was probably rolling over in her grave at this very moment.
“Please put me down, sir,” she said in her best well-bred voice.
He eased her to the floor. “Can you stand?”
“Why, I certainly can.” She pulled free of him and drew herself up primly, dusting off her clothes and taking care not to put all her weight on her sore ankle. “My, I must look a mess. You’ll have to excuse my appearance.”
Sam looked on in disbelief as she hobbled about, holding her head as though afraid it would fall off and trying to walk out the soreness in her foot. The still-attached noose dragged a piece of the ceiling beam after her. “It would probably be easier for you to get around if you removed that noose from your neck,” he said, sarcasm creeping into his voice. His initial fear had waned, now that he knew she wasn’t going to be carried out in a body bag, and he suddenly felt like shaking her.
Marilee regarded him as she fumbled with the tassels. “There is no cause for rudeness. I’m obviously ill-prepared to receive guests at this time, so perhaps we can meet again under more favorable circumstances.” Yes, that’s what she’d do. She’d whip up her special chicken salad and cucumber sandwiches and invite him to a little housewarming gala once she managed to get the place in shape. But she could not worry about that right now. She had more important business to take care of.
Sam gazed back in pure astonishment as realization hit him. “Marilee Brown,” he said, wondering why he hadn’t recognized her the minute he’d laid eyes on her. She was still as pretty as she’d been in high school. Her hair, the color of ripened wheat, was shorter, barely touching her shoulders and turning under slightly at the ends. Her eyes were the same sparkling blue, and she hadn’t lost the figure that had looked so good in a cheerleader’s skirt and the gown she’d worn when she’d been crowned homecoming queen.
“And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop looking at me as though I’m crazy,” she went on. “I’m perfectly sane, and I wouldn’t be in such a predicament had I not been pushed to the brink. The absolute brink,” she added, waving her arms dramatically as she almost shouted the words. She paused abruptly. He knew her maiden name. “Have we met?”
He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t remember him. “I grew up next door. We went to the same high school.” His mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “We didn’t exactly run with the same crowd.”
“You’re Nell Brewer’s son,” Marilee said at last. “Sam.”
“So you remember.” He wondered just how much she remembered.
Marilee had a sudden image of a good-looking adolescent with dark hair and what mothers had called bedroom eyes in those days. Those brown eyes, heavily lidded with thick, dark lashes, gave him a lazy, come-hither look that had lured more than one high-school girl into the back seat of his car. “Stay away from that boy,” her own mother had warned. “You so much as walk on the same side of the street with him, and you can kiss your reputation goodbye. And you can’t blame his parents. They’re decent, God-fearing Christians.”
His father had died in Sam’s senior year, and the teenager had quit school in order to support his mother. Marilee vaguely remembered he’d worked construction. Somehow, though, he’d still managed to get into one scrape after another. Then, like a bad wind, he was suddenly gone. The town of Chickpea assumed he’d been sent to prison.
“Yes, I remember,” Marilee replied, thankful she had packed her mother’s silver and put it in a safe place long ago. “It’s, uh, nice seeing you again, Sam. As you must have surmised by now, my life has taken a turn for the worse since I last saw you. Nothing I can’t handle, of course, but thanks for stopping by just the same.”
He was being dismissed. Was she crazy? She had just attempted to hang herself, and now she acted as though it was an everyday occurrence and he was in the way. Sam raked his fingers through his hair, wondering what he should say or do. The situation felt unreal, as though he’d just landed in a scene in one of his mother’s favorite soaps.
“Look, Marilee, I don’t know what your problem is, but I think you need to talk to someone. Nothing is worth ending your life over.”
“I realize that now,” she said with disdain, still trying to free herself from the noose.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Sam offered. He struggled with the tassels. She obviously knew her way around knots. Finally, he pulled it free and tossed the makeshift rope aside. He leaned closer and sniffed. “Do I smell gasoline?” he asked. “Please don’t tell me you were planning to set yourself on fire.”
“Do I look deranged?”
He arched one dark eyebrow but decided not to answer. The noose had chafed the tender skin at her neck. She brushed plaster dust from her face, and he couldn’t help noticing her complexion was still youthful and unblemished, as if she belonged in one of those skin-care commercials. It unnerved him to think just how close she’d come to dying.
Marilee noticed he was staring. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a red welt on your neck.”
“Trust me, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me in the past few days. I’ll deal with it, okay? Just…please go.” She was near tears, and the last person she wanted to see her cry was Sam Brewer, who didn’t seem to like her very much in the first place.
“You’re lucky to be alive, you know. If that beam hadn’t collapsed, you’d be dangling like a puppet right now with your eyes bulging out of their sockets.”
“What?” Marilee drewback. The mere thought horrified her.
“You obviously don’t know what a hanging victim looks like.”
“Well, no.”
“They mess their pants, and their tongue hangs out and turns purple.” Sam wondered what had made him go and say something like that, but he was annoyed with her. Pissed off, actually, now that the initial shock of finding her had worn off. “What the hell were you thinking?”
Marilee shuddered at the mental picture he’d drawn for her, and she was doubly glad to be alive. “I wasn’t really going to go through with it.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
She glared at him. Did he think she did this sort of thing on a regular basis? Could he not see that she was coming apart at the seams? He had no right to pass judgment on her. “Look, you’ve done your good deed for the day, so why don’t you run along now. I can pay you for your trouble if you like.”
She had a mouth on her, and that surprised him. She’d always seemed so prim and proper, always doing and saying the right thing. “What do you suppose your life is worth, Miss Brown?”
“At this moment? About ten cents. And my name is not Miss Brown. It’s Mrs. Abernathy.”
“Ah, yes, you married that Grady fellow. He was into sports, right?”
She gave a rueful smile. “He is still something of a sportsman.”
“A football player, if I remember correctly.” He remembered well. The Golden Boy, they’d called him. Folks in Chickpea could speak of nothing else his senior year. “Wasn’t he offered a full scholarship to Duke University?”
“Yes, but he went into the seminary instead.”
“I see.”
“He’s quite popular with some members of his flock,” Marilee said, offering him a tight-lipped smile. “You might say he takes a hands-on approach to those who are most troubled.” Sam nodded as she spoke, as though trying to make sense of the situation. But how could he possibly understand? “Uh, look, Sam, I’d really appreciate it if you’d keep this little matter between us. You know how it is, small town and all.”
“I wouldn’t think of embarrassing you. But how do I know you won’t stick your face in the oven the minute I walk out the door?”
“I’m a grown woman, and I can take care of myself,” she replied stiffly. She paused to get a grip on her emotions. He had probably saved her life, and she should be grateful, but she needed time to gather her thoughts. The experience had been harrowing. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I promise not to hurt myself again.”
“I hope you’re sincere,” he said at last, offering his hand to seal the bargain. Marilee paused before taking it. It was big and warm, the palm toughened by the work he did. They shook. “We’ve got a deal,” he said. “I expect you to honor it.” He was surprised by the self-deprecating smile that touched her lips. She had always seemed so confidant, so self-assured. Who had hurt her so badly? he wondered, feeling oddly protective of her.
He released her hand. The last thing he needed to do was get involved in her troubles. She was a married woman, and he had his hands full trying to keep up with his mother and a new business. That reminded him of the architect who was supposed to drop by later. “I’d better go.” He made for the door, paused and turned. “Uh, Marilee?”
“Yes?” Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment she felt completely disoriented. She blinked, trying to make sense of the strange sensations sweeping through her. What was going on here? Had she killed off some brain cells when the noose tightened around her neck? Or perhaps she did have a concussion and didn’t know it. Either way, she was suddenly acutely aware of him as a man, the tall, athletic physique and broad shoulders. She couldn’t seem to stop staring at his eyes. They were observant. Was he aware that she was looking at him in that way? No wonder the girls at Chickpea High had followed him around like puppies. She cast her own eyes downward, certain that no decent woman would stare so blatantly at a man. And her married to boot!
“I know this is a bad time,” he said, “but do you happen to have an iron I could borrow?”
At first she thought she’d misunderstood. “An iron?”
He nodded. “I’ve misplaced mine. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”
She couldn’t imagine anyone making such a request at a time like this, but from the looks of his clothes an iron was exactly what he needed. Not to mention a hairbrush and razor. “Yes, of course. Just give me a second to find it.” Marilee hurried to the utility room, thankful for the reprieve. She had to gather her wits about her or the man would sure enough think she had lost her mind.
The iron was on a shelf next to the spray starch and laundry detergent. Marilee leaned her head against the shelf, feeling as though she needed to bang it hard and clear the muddle inside. In all her married life she had never once looked at another man. Well, not the way she was looking at Sam Brewer.
Lord help her.
Marilee took a deep breath, raised her head and reached for the iron. She dusted it off and retraced her steps to the living room. “It hasn’t been used in a while,” she said, her voice sounding stiff and unnatural. She had to get him out of there if it was the last thing she did. “I hope it still works.”
“I really appreciate this.”
He looked so grateful that Marilee wondered if there was a shortage of irons in Chickpea. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll return it as soon as I’m finished.”
“Keep it as long as you like,” she said quickly, in no hurry to face him again after what had transpired.
Sam was reluctant to leave her, but he had no choice. “I’m, uh, just next door if you need something.”
“Thank you.” Marilee walked him to the door, noting the damaged trim. “Oh my.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “When I heard you scream I broke in. I can fix it. And the ceiling beam.”
“No, please, you’ve done enough.” In a matter of minutes he’d turned her upside down and inside out. That was more than enough after the kind of day she’d had.
“Well then, I’d better get going.” He started down the front walk, glancing over his shoulder for one last look. She stood at the door, watching him. He wondered if she remembered visiting when his father died. She and her mother had taken food over, offering their sincere condolences. They’d even attended the funeral. Both of them had been so kind to his mother, and Marilee had sought him out in the crowd and told him how sorry she was. She had done her best to console him when all he could think of was how angry he felt at losing his dad. He had never forgotten her caring nature.
Sam waved and crossed the yard to his own property.
Marilee closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. If she didn’t get a grip on herself she was going to suffer a bad case of the vapors, just like her grandmother used to do when the worms ate her tomato plants. Here she was, ogling her sexy neighbor as if he was something out of a box of Godiva chocolates, when what she needed to be doing was deciding what to do with the rest of her life.
CHAPTER TWO
MARILEE HAD BEEN CLEANING nonstop for several hours when the doorbell rang. She hesitated before opening the door, afraid that it was Sam Brewer, returning the iron. She was a mess, having changed into old gray sweats and sneakers, and she smelled of disinfectant. Marilee would almost prefer giving Sam the dang iron, just to keep from facing him again. In fact, she was tempted not to answer the door at all, but after three rings she realized she had no choice. When she opened it, she found her best friends, Clara Goolesby and Ruby Led-better, standing on the other side.
“Marilee, you have a lot of explaining to do,” Clara said, frowning so hard her black eyebrows touched in the center, as though someone had drawn a straight line across her forehead with a black marker. Her short hair, dyed black as crow’s feathers to hide the gray, stood in tufts, a sure sign that she was upset, because she had a habit of plucking the ends when she was anxious about something. The town librarian, Clara was usually quiet and reserved, the exception being when she discovered food spills or dog-eared pages on her beloved books. Then she was a menace.
“Darn right she owes us an explanation,” Ruby echoed, crossing her arms over her breasts. She was a diminutive blonde, no bigger than a minute but a formidable opponent when riled. As owner of Classy Cuts Hair Salon, she was a shrewd businesswoman who tried to stay one step ahead of her competition, Martha Grimes, who ran The Hair Affair.
“What in heaven’s name were you thinking, Marilee?” Clara insisted. “How could you just disappear on us like that, without telling us where you were going? If it hadn’t been for my exceptional memory, we’d never have found you.”
Ruby looked at Clara. “Your exceptional memory? Hell’s bells, Clara, we searched for almost seventy-two hours before you thought of coming here.”
“That may be true, Ruby, but I’m the one who remembered how Marilee couldn’t bear to sell this place after her poor sweet mama died. And you don’t have to resort to foul language to get your point across.”
Marilee looked from one woman to the other. “Is something wrong?”
Both women gaped at her. Clara drew herself up and sniffed as though she smelled something foul. “Did you forget you were supposed to play the piano at the Grace Blessing Home benefit luncheon on Saturday?”
Marilee gasped. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes! We had more than two hundred women show up from six counties who paid twenty bucks to eat overdone roast beef and listen to you play Mozart on Richard Griffin’s baby grand piano.” She paused to catch her breath. “And after all we went through to get that piano inside the school auditorium and pay to have it tuned. Well,” she added in a huff, “Alma Jones ended up playing hymns, and the poor thing is so old she’s tone deaf. Marilee, how could you!”
“Yes, how could you!” Ruby seconded. “We had a devil of a time getting that piano back to Mr. Griffin. Not to mention having to pay for another tuning.”
Clara nodded. “And that’s not the half of it. We collected almost a thousand dollars selling raffle tickets, but guess who still has the pure silver antique candelabra in the trunk of her car?”
Marilee paled instantly. Not only had she forgotten about the benefit luncheon, she hadn’t remembered that she held the prize for the winning raffle ticket. She felt a wave of panic wash over her. And just when she’d decided to get her life in order and start afresh.
“You can just imagine how mad Esmerelda Cunningham was over the whole thing,” Ruby said. “Especially since she donated that dumb candelabra and claimed it’d been in her family since before Jesus was born.”
“Ruby!” Clara frowned and shook her head, then turned her attention back to Marilee. “Esmerelda said we had twenty-four hours to collect the candelabra or she was going to have you arrested.”
“Arrested!” Marilee cried. “Does she think I stole it?” Her heart began to beat faster. After all that had happened, the last thing she needed was to go to jail.
Clara shifted her gaze. “We didn’t know what to think. Especially with Grady getting fired from the church over some…well, you know.” Clara paused, as though trying to come up with the right word.
“Two-bit whore?” Ruby offered.
Clara cut her eyes at the woman. “Honestly, Ruby, the things you say.”
“Esmerelda said you probably hocked that candelabra and hightailed it out of town,” Ruby said. “Not that anybody’d really blame you, after all you’ve been through.”
Clara gave an embarrassed cough. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go into that right now, Ruby.”
Marilee was still hurt over Esmerelda Cunningham’s accusations. Esmerelda was Chickpea’s wealthiest citizen and the closest thing to royalty the town had ever seen. Marilee, who’d been involved with the fund-raiser since its conception, had personally asked the woman for a donation and had discovered she was not only a snob but stingy as well. Esmerelda had agreed to part with her beloved candelabra, but she’d been none too pleased about it.
Her first thoughts were of Grady. He could handle Esmerelda. But no, Grady was no longer in the picture. It was up to her. Her. She suddenly realized just how many problems Grady had taken care of in their sixteen years of marriage. Now they were her problems. Her moment of truth hit her in the face like a lead pipe. She was now solely responsible for her own life. That in itself was enough reason to pawn the candelabra and leave town.
Clara plucked at her hair. “No Mozart, no raffle prize. Can you imagine how utterly ridiculous we felt?”
“And Benson Contractors walked off the job this afternoon for nonpayment,” Ruby told her. “Bobby Benson said he wasn’t going to make any more repairs to Blessing Home until he was paid—in full.”
“What about the roof?” Marilee asked frantically.
Clara shook her head sadly. “The money we raised won’t come close to covering it. Bobby nailed plastic over the holes in the roof and left without so much as a fare-thee-well.”
“We’ll never be able to come up with that kind of money,” Ruby said. “Not legally, anyway.”
Marilee sank into the nearest chair. “I am so sorry.” She was close to tears. They had been working for weeks to raise funds for the unwed mothers’ home, and she had let everybody down.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find lodging for twelve pregnant girls in a town this size?” Clara asked, tapping the toe of her shoe impatiently. “My place is no bigger than a shoebox, and I’ve had two seventeen-year-old expectant mothers living with me for weeks now. Then, today, they get into a catfight, and one of them packs her bags. Which reminds me—”
“I would gladly take the girl in,” Ruby interrupted, “but my place is smaller than Clara’s.”
Marilee jumped up from her chair and started toward the kitchen. “I’ll call Bobby Benson right now and explain.”
Clara turned to close the door, then paused at the sight of splintered wood. Instead of saying anything, she merely shook her head, as though nothing would surprise her at this point.
Ruby followed Marilee. “Bobby left town this afternoon for a week-long fishing trip.”
“How could you do this to us?” Clara repeated. “I’m so mad I can’t stand it. Why, I feel like slapping somebody.”
“Slap Marilee,” Ruby said, “if it’ll make you feel better.”
Marilee stepped closer. “Go ahead. It certainly beats having my head chewed off.”
Clara drew herself up proudly. “I happen to be a lady, and I prefer to act like one, even if you did let us down.”
“Enough, already!” Marilee cried, feeling as though she might pull her hair out any minute. “You’ve made your point. I blew it!”
Both women stared at her openmouthed. “Dear, you don’t have to shout,” Clara said. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with our hearing.”
Marilee planted her hands on her hips. “I know the two of you are going to find this hard to believe, but I’ve been preoccupied the past few days. My life has completely fallen apart, so I’d appreciate it if you’d cut me some slack.”
“What Grady did was despicable,” Ruby said gently, only to have Clara nudge her hard. “Oh, Clara, stop it. We have to talk about it. We can’t just pretend it never happened.” She walked over and hugged Marilee. “Honey, how did you find out?”
“Grady told me,” she said calmly. “Said he had feelings for another woman and was tired of living a lie. Said he didn’t belong on the pulpit. Josh overheard the whole thing. By the time Grady met with the church board and received his dismissal, Josh had packed his father’s clothes, as well as his own.”
“Oh, Marilee, how awful for you,” Clara said.
“You must’ve started packing as well,” Ruby said. “By the time Clara and I heard the news, you’d already up and gone.”
“I was too embarrassed to stay. All I could think of was coming here.”
Clara’s look softened. “I wouldn’t really have slapped you.” She paused. “Marilee, what happened to your neck?”
“What I want to know is what happened to that ceiling beam?” Ruby said, glancing up.
Marilee gave a grunt of disgust. “I tried to hang myself.”
Clara gasped. “Marilee, how can you say such a thing?”
Ruby shot her a dark look. “That’s not a bit funny. Not one bit.”
“Hang yourself, indeed,” Clara quipped.
Marilee realized she’d gone too far. She must be hysterical. “I’m sorry. Truth is, I have termites. As for my neck, I think my mother’s pearl choker caused a rash.” She was surprised how easily the lies slipped from her lips.
“That’s the very reason I don’t wear jewelry,” Clara announced. “It makes me break out every time. As for those termites, you’d better have someone take care of it right away. I’ve heard what kind of damage they can do. You wouldn’t believe what happened to my cousin.”
Ruby frowned and shook her head. “Hush, Clara. The last thing Marilee needs to hear is one of your horror stories about what happened to somebody in your family. Can’t you see the poor girl has enough on her mind? Her husband has dumped her for a woman with tangerine-colored hair, and her son wants nothing to do with her. Why, folks can talk of nothing else. I don’t know how poor Marilee will ever be able to show her face in public again. I think she can wait a couple of days before worrying about stupid termites.”
Marilee’s look was deadpan. “Thank you, Ruby. I feel much better now that you’ve put it all into perspective for me.”
“You’re welcome, honey.”
“I suppose we shouldn’t have been so hard on you because you forgot the benefit,” Clara said. “I wouldn’t be so upset if Esmerelda hadn’t caused such a ruckus. And then those pregnant girls had to get into a snit with one another. I had to break it up. Which reminds me—”
“Grady has lost his mind,” Ruby declared. “It’s that blood pressure thing. The minute a man has health problems he has to go out and prove to himself he’s still got what it takes. You ask me, I think the scare brought on his midlife crisis. Either way, he’ll come around.”
Marilee hitched her chin high as she thought of all Grady had put her through the past few days. She had been so hurt at first she couldn’t stop crying. Well, the hurt and self-pity were gone. Now she was mad as hell.
“He’d better not come around here. He’s going to rue the day he moved my son into that…that trollop’s mobile home.”
Clara nodded, but she looked distracted. She fidgeted with her hair again. “Uh, Marilee, we have a small problem.”
“He’s vermin,” Ruby continued. “Worse than vermin. And everybody knows LaFonda Bonaire is white trash. Why, that’s not even her real name. Her real name is Betty Clump, but she paid to have it changed because she thought it would give her class. Ha! She’s still trash, and the only reason Grady fell for her is because she’d let him eat anything he wanted whenever he came into the Tick-Tock. And here you were trying to see that he ate a healthy diet and got plenty of exercise.”
“Ruby, what are you talking about?” Marilee asked, her face masked with confusion.
“LaFonda was stuffing him with pecan pie behind your back.”
Marilee’s look turned to disbelief. “Are you telling me that my husband walked out on our marriage because another woman fed him pecan pie? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, that’s part of it,” Clara replied. “My friend Janie Gilbert who works at the Gazette said it was almost sickening the way LaFonda carried on around him. Janie said LaFonda had been giving Grady the come-on for weeks.”
“A man can only take so much temptation, Marilee,” Ruby said. “Even a fine, upstanding minister like Grady.”
Marilee felt foolish that everybody in town had known about her husband and LaFonda long before her. “Why didn’t the two of you say something?”
“Because Grady was a man of God,” Clara said. “I thought he was way above that sort of thing.”
“Ruby’s right,” Marilee groaned. “I’ll never be able to show my face in this town again.”
Clara waved the comment aside. “Stop talking like that. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Marilee’s in a lot of pain right now,” Ruby said, “and rightly so. You’re probably still in shock, too, honey,” she added, patting Marilee on the back. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Listen, sugar, I’ve got a pint of whiskey beneath the seat of my truck. I’ll grab it if you like. One good swig will calm your nerves.”
Clara gasped. “Why, Ruby Ledbetter, I don’t believe what I’m hearing. I would never have figured you for a drinking woman. And you a Southern Baptist of all things.”
Ruby seemed to take offense. “Don’t you go questioning my spirituality, Clara Goolesby. I may be a Baptist, but I have had my share of stress. And there’s nothing like a good shot of whiskey to ease the jitters when you don’t have time to whip your vehicle over to the side of the road and pray.”
“I hardly think it’s necessary to resort to blasphemy,” Clara said stiffly.
Marilee looked from one to the other, wondering if the two women would come to blows. How they’d managed to remain friends all these years made her wonder. “Okay, let’s calm down,” she said. “I’m sure we can work this out. I’ll call another roofer first thing in the morning.”
“And pay him with what?” Ruby asked. “Clara’s good looks?”
Clara glared at her. “That was a low blow, considering you cleaned out your savings account last year on an eyelift and tummy tuck.” The ring of the doorbell prevented Ruby from answering. “Oh, that must be Winnie,” Clara said. “She fell asleep in Ruby’s truck on the way over, and we didn’t have the heart to wake her, poor thing.”
“Who’s Winnie?” Marilee asked.
“You remember, Winnifred Frye from Blessing Home.” Clara didn’t wait for a response. “I’ve been trying to tell you since we arrived, but Ruby wouldn’t stop yammering. Winnie has been staying at my place, but she and the other girl got into a big fuss. You’re going to love her, Marilee.”
“I am?”
“I guess I’m going to have to answer the door, since neither of you look so inclined,” Ruby said, making her way from the kitchen. “You go ahead and break the news to her, Clara.”
“What news?” Marilee asked.
Clara seemed hesitant. “Winnie has no place to stay. I was hoping you’d put her up until we figure out what we’re going to do about Blessing Home.”
“Me? Clara, are you out of your mind? I can’t take care of anyone right now. My life is in shambles.”
“So is Winnie’s. But you have a roof over your head, don’t you? Not to mention a warm bed. That’s all poor Winnie needs. Until we can make further arrangements,” she added. “Besides,” she added with a whisper, “you owe me for not forcing Grady to take one of the girls in when we first started looking for temporary housing.”
Marilee was still embarrassed that Grady had not offered to house a girl while Blessing Home was being restored. True, he’d supported Blessing Home in other ways, taking up separate collections, asking for clothes and nonperishable food, but he’d balked at having an unwed mother in the house. He thought it would be a bad influence on Josh. Marilee wanted to laugh at the irony.
“Which girl was Winnie?” Marilee whispered to Clara. “Was she that petite redhead with the pixie face?”
“I’m Winnie,” a husky voice said. “And I’ve never been petite. Not even when I was born.”
Marilee turned in the direction of the voice and froze at the sight of the tall black woman. She was at least six feet tall, and her shoulders filled the doorway. “Oh.” She forced a smile. “How nice to meet you, Winnie. I’m Marilee Abernathy.”
Winnie responded by blowing a big bubble with her chewing gum. It popped, and she sucked it in. “I know who you are. Didn’t your old man just walk out on you?”
Marilee blushed. Was there anyone in Chickpea who hadn’t heard about her problems? “Well, yes.”
“You don’t have to be ashamed,” Winnie said. “My man left me too. After he knocked me up, that is.”
“Oh, how awful. You must’ve been devastated.”
“Yeah. Killing him would be too good for him, but I’m going to do it anyway if I ever lay eyes on him again.”
Clara suddenly looked anxious. “Please don’t talk like that, Winnie dear. We’re Christians.” She paused. “You don’t…uh…have any weapons on you, do you? I don’t believe in carrying guns.”
“I don’t need a gun. I’ve got my bare hands.”
All three women were quiet for a moment. Finally, Marilee spoke up. “How far along are you, Winnie?”
“Five and a half months. I’ve got a while.”
“Have you eaten?” she asked, wishing she had more to offer the girl than a sandwich. She hadn’t figured on needing many groceries.
“Nope. I’m starving. You got any Twinkies lying around?”
“I’m afraid not. But I have bologna and cheese and a whole loaf of bread.”
“Long as you don’t put those nasty bean sprouts on it,” Winnie said, rolling her eyes. “Clara is big on bean sprouts.”
Marilee looked at Ruby, who was dwarfed beside the young woman. “Would you mind making Winnie a sandwich while I have a word with Clara?”
“Sure.” Ruby turned for the refrigerator.
Marilee grasped Clara’s hand tightly and led her into the bedroom, where she closed the door. “Clara, what on earth are you thinking? I can’t take in this girl.”
Clara shook free. “I was thinking I might get a little peace and quiet, if you want to know the truth. She and the other girl fight constantly. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, because you haven’t been down in the trenches like the rest of us.”
“What are you talking about? I’m the one who had to knock on mean old Esmerelda Cunningham’s door and beg her to give us something for the raffle.”
Clara went on as though she hadn’t heard her. “Oh, you don’t mind making a few phone calls to ask for donations or playing Mozart in front of the ladies to show off your skills as a pianist, if and when it’s convenient for you. But heaven forbid you have to actually open your home to some poor pregnant gal who has absolutely no one to turn to.”
Marilee plopped onto the bed. “That’s not fair, Clara. You know I’d help if I didn’t have so much turmoil in my own life. I have to find a job. Do you know how long it has been since I’ve worked? All I know how to do is sing and play the piano. And bake cakes.”
“Winnie won’t be any trouble. She goes to school every day, and she’s a straight-A student. Plans to attend right up ‘til the baby comes, and as soon as she graduates she’s going to the community college here.” Clara paused. “Marilee, Winnie has never been in trouble in her life. She’s a good girl. Her only mistake was getting involved with a smooth-talking man who hit the road the minute she became pregnant. And her parents—” Clara pursed her lips in annoyance “—God-fearing Christians they are, they kicked her out the minute she told them. Honey, she has no one.”
Marilee pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. What next? she wondered, half-afraid to ask the question in the first place, in case she was in for another shocker. Her family had left her, they’d been kicked out of the church, she’d missed playing for the benefit luncheon, Esmerelda Cunningham was threatening to send her to jail and now Clara wanted her to take in an unmarried, pregnant girl.
And to think that a few days ago her life had been relatively normal.
“Oh, Clara,” she cried, shaking her head.
“Listen to me, Marilee. You know what it’s like to be rejected by those you love. That’s exactly what Winnie’s feeling right now, although she’d cut her tongue out before admitting it. She’s just a kid. Seventeen years old. Not much older than Josh.”
Marilee wanted to hide her head under a pillow and not have to think about it. How could she help someone else’s child when she hadn’t been able to help her own? How could she not? “Well, I suppose I could take her in for a couple of days,” she said at last. “Until other arrangements can be made. You realize I can’t make any long-term plans right now.”
Ruby appeared in the doorway. “Winnie said to thank you for the sandwich, but she had to be on her way. She took her sandwich with her.”
Marilee looked up. “On her way where?”
Ruby shrugged. “She didn’t say.”
“And you let her get away?” Clara cried.
“What was I supposed to do? She’s twice my size.”
“She can’t just leave,” Marilee said, jumping from the bed. “She has no place to go.”
Clara made a tsking sound. “I should have known something like this would happen. That girl can be downright ornery. Come on, Ruby, we’ll have to go after her.”
“I’ll go,” Marilee said, hurrying out of the room. She slammed out the front door. A moment later, she spotted Winnie; it would have been hard to miss her considering her size. “Winnie, wait!” she cried. “You can’t go.” The girl continued on. Marilee sped up. “Winnie, please don’t go.”
The girl turned as Marilee caught up with her and stopped so abruptly Marilee almost slammed into her. “What do you want?”
“Please don’t leave.”
“Look, lady, I may be black, broke and pregnant, but I’m not stupid, okay? I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
“Hurt my feelings?” Winnie gave a snort. “You can’t hurt my feelings. Nobody can. I’ve got a thick skin, but I’m thin on patience. And I don’t feel like listening to some white woman bellyaching ‘cause her husband left her. I’ve got my own problems, thank you very much.” She turned and began walking again.
Marilee stood there, aghast. Here she’d been trying to help the girl, only to be insulted. “Excuse me,” she called out, “but I am not grieving over my husband. I’m upset because my son left with him. And don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of wimp, because I’m not. I’m a lot stronger than you think.” She was only vaguely aware that the day had turned cold and a fine mist was falling. “Hello,” she called out angrily.
Winnie turned. “Listen, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to be somewhere.”
“Today? Right this minute?”
“It’s important.”
It was starting to rain. “Perhaps you could stay the night. You need to get out of this wet weather. It can’t be good for the baby.”
The girl seemed to ponder it. “Okay,” she said with a great deal of reluctance. “I suppose I can stay one night, but I definitely have to be somewhere tomorrow.”
“Fine. You can spend the night, and tomorrow I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”
“As long as you don’t start crying again. I can’t be around negative people in my condition.”
Marilee tried not to take offense at the remark as they started back for the house. “Do you like hot chocolate? It’ll chase the chill away.”
“Yeah, and may I have another sandwich? I’m not crazy about bologna, but I’m eating for two now, you know.”
Marilee nodded. “Yes, certainly.”
Winnie nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll sleep at your place tonight, but I’m outta here first thing in the morning.”
“First thing,” Marilee agreed.
“But not too early,” Winnie said. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I don’t have school. I’ll probably sleep till about ten o’clock.”
“Ten o’clock then.”
“And I like to drink juice and read the funnies before I start my day.”
Marilee wasn’t about to tell her she didn’t get the newspaper and there was no juice in the house. Besides, she didn’t have time to worry about it; she had to concentrate on getting along with Winnie until another home could be found.
It wouldn’t be easy. The girl had attitude.
NELL BREWER TOOK A BITE of her spaghetti, gagged and spit a mouthful into her napkin. “Sam, this is the worst spaghetti sauce I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
He regarded his mother. “Don’t beat around the bush, Mom. Tell me how you really feel.”
“How can you mess up something straight out of a jar?”
“It tasted bland so I added spices.”
She was making faces. “Tastes like you dumped a cupful of oregano in it.”
“You don’t have to eat it.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
With a disgusted sigh, Sam stood. He picked up both plates and carried them to the kitchen sink, where he dumped the contents into the garbage disposal. He flipped on the switch and waited for the ruined dinner to disappear. The disposal ground to life, wheezed and died.
Nell hurried over. “Well, would you look at that? Your cooking is so bad it broke the garbage disposal.”
“My cooking has nothing to do with it. I just need to press the reset button and it’ll be okay.” Sam opened the cabinet door then reached beneath the disposal and located the reset button. He pressed it, but nothing happened.
Peering over his shoulder, Nell gave a grunt. “I knew we should have ordered takeout.”
Sam rose quickly and collided with his mother, almost knocking her to the floor. He reached out to keep her from falling, his patience lost. “Mom, would you please get out of my way!”
She crossed her arms. “Don’t you raise your voice to me, Samuel Brewer. I’m still your mother, whether you like it or not. I’m just thankful your father isn’t here to see how you treat me.”
“Mom, please move.”
“You refuse to let me cook in my own kitchen, despite the fact you haven’t the slightest notion how to go about it. It’s a wonder we haven’t both died of ptomaine poisoning. You won’t even allow me to take a bath by myself. Well, I’m tired of being treated like I don’t have the good sense God gave me.”
Sam closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. The woman was driving him crazy. He opened his eyes and forced a smile to his face. “Look, Mom, we’re both tired. Why don’t you go into the living room and watch TV? I’ll have this disposal fixed in no time.”
She shook her head. “We should call a plumber. Someone who knows what he’s doing. You’ll only end up making it worse.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he muttered as she left the room.
Sam grabbed a broom and stuck the handle into the disposal, turning it counterclockwise. While he worked, he listened to Jeopardy in the next room. He liked the show, and the answers, at least most of them, came easily to him. He figured that wasn’t bad for a man who’d waited until his mid-twenties to get his GED. But he’d had a hankering for knowledge as long as he could remember, and despite staying in trouble most of his high-school years, his grades had been high. He supposed it was because he’d always enjoyed reading.
Construction work had been grueling, leaving a man—at least him—too tired to sit in bars and try to pick up women, as his buddies had. He got to where he preferred going home to a good book. He’d read most of the classics because he thought it was important. He’d studied history and politics and economics. Since he hadn’t the slightest idea what a portfolio was, he’d read everything he could about investments. Sam didn’t believe in luck. He believed a person had to earn their way in this world by using their brain. After twenty years, he could retire right now and never worry about a dime, but he enjoyed what he did. He was not afraid of hard work.
Sam pressed the reset button and the disposal ground to life. Smiling, he called out to his mother in the next room. “Told you I could fix it.” There was no response. No doubt she was still angry that he’d raised his voice to her.
Sam began cleaning the kitchen. Thankfully, his mood had improved by the time he finished. He knew he owed his mother an apology, so he walked into the living room with one on his lips, but paused in surprise when he didn’t find her in her recliner as he’d expected. It wasn’t until he switched off the TV set that he heard the sound of running water. Muttering an oath under his breath, he hurried to the bathroom door and tried the knob.
It was locked.
CHAPTER THREE
WHENEVER SHE WAS ANXIOUS, Marilee baked. That explained the two lemon pound cakes, the chocolate torte and the loaf of banana bread cooling on the kitchen counter. She knew it had something to do with being a minister’s wife for sixteen years. One simply did not visit the sick or bereaved without a cake in tow. And then there were the numerous bake sales and bazaars held every year to raise money for choir robes or the new van to accommodate seniors and the handicapped. Seemed cakes were the veritable frameworks of a thriving church.
Sixteen years of baking cakes.
Sixteen years living with Grady.
You got to know a man pretty well after spending that much time with him. She knew what Grady looked like when he opened his eyes in the morning, and she knew which side of the bed he preferred sleeping on. She knew he liked wearing navy blue because he thought it set off his blond hair. She knew he’d wrestled with the idea of becoming a minister, when what he’d really wanted to do was go into broadcasting. He’d dreamed of having his own radio or TV talk show. He was a born entertainer, he’d told her back in high school. Marilee had to admit he had stage presence—he’d even been selected for the leading role in every school play. But his parents had balked at the idea of him going into broadcasting. After all, he’d grown up in a family of ministers, and he was expected to carry on the tradition.
Grady had played the dutiful son and enrolled in seminary school, then convinced Marilee to elope with him. It had caused quite a stink with his family; even though they approved of Marilee, they thought the couple far too young to marry, and wanted Grady to complete his education first. In the beginning, Marilee wondered if he’d asked her to marry him just to get back at his parents for forcing him into the ministry, but Grady had seemed so much in love with her that she’d pushed the thought aside. After a while, Grady no longer complained about being in the ministry, and Marilee assumed he was as happy as she.
It was only recently that he’d begun to second-guess his vocation. Had he kept it to himself all these years? Had he merely pretended to love her? There were so many unanswered questions. Would she ever know the truth?
That was the past, she reminded herself. As difficult as it was, she had to concentrate on rebuilding her life. Part of that meant Josh. His place was with her. It would be so much easier to hate Grady, but for the life of her she couldn’t. Sure, she hated what he’d done to their family, and she was terrified at the prospect of facing the world alone. Well, she wasn’t entirely alone. There was Winnie to contend with. The girl was presently sprawled on the sofa in the living room watching Jeopardy. She called out her answers, then yelped each time she got them right, causing Marilee to start.
Her nerves were shot. She felt as if she was about to jump out of her skin. Perhaps if she tried to take it one day at a time—one hour at a time—instead of looking toward the future, which seemed pretty bleak at the moment, she would manage.
Marilee stared at the chocolate torte cake. She could not keep it in the house or she’d end up eating it. Like that time three years ago, when she thought she was pregnant and went on a chocolate binge. Even then she’d known things weren’t right between her and Grady, but she’d ignored the signs. Anyway, the church kept her so busy she didn’t have time to think about it. There was always something to do, costumes to sew for the Easter pageant or Christmas play, a wedding rehearsal, or a funeral to attend. In the midst of it all, Sunday-school teachers became ill, volunteers for vacation Bible school backed out at the last minute or extra hands were needed to see that the shut-ins received a hot meal each day. It didn’t matter that her husband’s blood pressure had sky-rocketed, that he was unhappy with his calling or that her son was rebelling. Marilee was expected to pick up the pieces when things fell apart at Chickpea Baptist.
In the meantime, her life had fallen apart.
Marilee heard movement and glanced up. Winnie stood in the doorway, shaking her head sadly. “Look at the mess in this kitchen. How many cakes are you planning on baking tonight?”
“I’m going to bake until I run out of ingredients.” That wasn’t likely. She had gone to the grocery store once Clara and Ruby left and had enough baking items on hand to start her own bakery.
Winnie continued to stare at her. “You’re having a nervous breakdown, aren’t you?”
Marilee sighed. “No, I’m not having a breakdown. I just prefer staying busy when I have things on my mind. Would you like a slice of pound cake?”
“No. I figure I’ve had enough junk food today, and I really need to start eating healthy. You know, for the baby. I hope you don’t expect me to clean up this kitchen, because I need to soak in a hot tub. My back is killing me.”
“I don’t expect you to clean up after me,” Marilee said a little too sharply. She softened her tone. “By the way, do you know your baby’s due date yet?”
“Christmas.”
Marilee smiled. “No kidding?”
“I wish she would come during my two-week break so I don’t have to miss as much school. I’ve had perfect attendance for three years straight.”
“Good for you. You’re a senior?”
Winnie nodded. “And I plan to graduate with my class come hell or high water. Of course, I need to line up somebody to watch my baby, but I’m sure my friends will chip in. Once I graduate, I plan to study accounting. I’ve always been good at math.” She paused. “You really ought to freeze those cakes or I’ll just end up eating them. My doctor warned me about gaining more weight. See, diabetes runs in my family so I’ve got no business eating sweets, and that chocolate cake is crying out for me.”
Marilee decided she definitely needed to get it out of the house. She suddenly thought of Sam Brewer and wondered if he would enjoy the torte. Surely she owed him something for practically saving her life. And maybe if they met under different circumstances he wouldn’t think she was a raving lunatic. She assumed he was married and had children. They would probably enjoy the cake, and in future she would avoid making such tempting desserts.
“I think I’ll take it next door,” Marilee said, “to repay my neighbor for doing me a favor this morning.”
Winnie eyed the cake ravenously. “Better hurry.”
Marilee left the house a few minutes later, cake in hand, and crossed the lawn to the Brewer house, patting her hair in place as she went. She hadn’t thought to run a brush through it or apply lipstick. Okay, maybe she had given it a passing thought, but she wasn’t going to primp for any man, married or not. Besides, she was a married woman, even if her husband had found greener pastures.
She should be mourning the loss of her marriage and trying to atone for her shortcomings as a wife. That’s what any good Christian woman would do.
Marilee rang the doorbell and waited several minutes before the door was flung open by a harried-looking Sam Brewer. He had shaved and combed his hair, and Marilee could only stare dumbly at the sight of him in snug jeans and a burgundy rugby shirt. She had not counted on him looking so good. Lord, Lord, why had she come?
“I, uh, brought you and your family a cake,” she said.
If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it. “Thank God you’re here.” He yanked her inside, almost causing her to drop the cake. “I need a woman.”
Marilee gaped at him. “Excuse me?”
“My mother has locked herself in the bathroom and she won’t let me in.” He noted Marilee’s blank look and went on hurriedly, “She’s taking a bath. Her eyesight isn’t good, and she’s pretty frail. I’m afraid she’ll slip. Please see if she’ll let you in.” He motioned frantically toward the bathroom door.
Marilee thrust the cake at him and hurried to the door. It was locked. “Mrs. Brewer, are you in there?” she called out. “Mrs. Brewer, I’m your neighbor, Marilee Abernathy. I was wondering if you needed any help in there.”
“I can pick the lock,” Sam whispered.
Marilee caught a whiff of his aftershave and thought she might be dizzy. She shook her head. “Let me try to get her to open the door first. Mrs. Brewer, are you okay?”
The lock clicked and Nell Brewer peered through a slit in the door. “Marilee Abernathy? You look awfully familiar. Where do I know you from?”
“Her memory is bad,” Sam said and was awarded a dark look from his mother.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with my memory.”
“I grew up next door,” Marilee said.
“Oh, yes, Marilee.” Nell brightened. “Hester and Will Brown’s daughter. I haven’t seen you since your mother’s funeral. Oh, Hester was such a sweet woman. Both of your parents were lovely people.”
“I miss them,” Marilee said, then decided to change the subject since her emotions were running so high these days. “I just wanted to see if I could help you with your bath.”
“She’s kind of modest,” Sam said.
Nell glared at him. “How could I possibly be modest when you’ve paraded me butt-naked in front of half the town?”
“They were hired to look after you.”
“I don’t need looking after.”
“That’s not what you said six months ago.”
Marilee looked from one to the other. “Perhaps I’ve come at a bad time…”
“Now look what you’ve done,” Nell accused her son. “You’ve embarrassed our guest. Sam, what’s that in your hand?”
“It’s a chocolate torte cake,” Marilee said.
Nell looked delighted. “For me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s awfully nice of you, dear. We’ll have a slice after my bath. Just let me grab my towel and you can come in.” She closed the door.
“It’ll be okay,” Marilee whispered to Sam. “I’ve done this sort of thing before.”
The door opened, and Marilee stepped inside the steamy bathroom, coming face-to-face with Sam’s mother. “It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Brewer,” she said, closing the door behind her and locking it securely. She studied the woman closely, noting the cropped white hair and parchment skin. She had aged, but she looked as healthy as a horse.
“Why are you staring?” Nell asked. “Do I have spaghetti sauce on my face?”
Marilee shook her head. “Sam said you were frail. You don’t look the least bit frail to me.”
Nell gave a grunt. “Oh, he’s full of baloney. I’ve never been sick a day in my life. To hear my son talk, you’d think I was about to draw my last breath.” She dropped the towel and stepped inside the tub, then carefully lowered herself into the water. “Have a seat.” She pointed to the toilet.
“Thank you.” Marilee put the lid down and sat. If the woman was modest, she certainly didn’t show it.
“This is heavenly,” Nell said. “I haven’t bathed in three days except to wash up at the sink.”
“Why is that?”
The woman sighed as she reached for her soap and sponge. “Oh, I accidentally slipped and bruised my hip a few months ago. Sam made a big deal out of it and called 911. Here I was, without a stitch of clothing, and I had two handsome paramedics looking at my sagging behind.” She grunted. “That boy is driving me crazy. Some days I feel like running away from home. But then I have to remind myself it’s my own fault.”
“I don’t understand.”
Nell lowered her voice. “Well, it’s like this. I lied to get him here.”
“Come again?”
“My best friend had just died, and I was so lonely and depressed I couldn’t stand it. So I sort of let Sam think I was on my last legs. You know, not long for this world. Told him I was going blind and couldn’t remember anything. I was just hoping for a visit, you see. Next thing I know, he moved in with me.”
“With his wife and children?” Marilee couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, no, he’s divorced. Never had children.” She paused in washing and regarded Marilee. “I suppose you think I’m a selfish old woman, only thinking of myself.”
“I think you’re human, Mrs. Brewer. We all get lonely.” She thought of Josh, and the ache that never left.
“Sam and I have been knocking heads ever since he moved in. This place is too small for the both of us.” She frowned. “Listen to me complain. I should be thankful to have him here. And I would be, if he didn’t stand over me like a mother hen all the time. He keeps hiring these crazy women to take care of me. The last one stole the pearl earrings I wore on my wedding day, a gift from my dear grandmother. I couldn’t convince Sam of it, he said I forgot where I put them. My memory is as sharp as a tack, and I specifically remember that woman admiring them the day before they turned up missing.”
“Why don’t you tell Sam the truth?” Marilee asked.
“That I faked my illness?” Nell shook her head. “He’d never forgive me. Especially after he sold his company. All I can do is pretend to get a little better each day. Not that he listens. He’s already set up an interview with another woman who’s supposed to look after me.”
“I wish I could help, Mrs. Brewer,” Marilee said.
“Call me Nell.” She smiled. “And you have helped, just by listening. Now, tell me what brings you back to the neighborhood?”
Marilee sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“That’s okay. If the bathwater gets cold, I’ll just add more hot. Now, start at the beginning.”
SAM WAS DOZING ON THE SOFA when the women exited the bathroom some time later, Nell powdered and wearing a clean gown. He rose quickly. “All finished?”
“I almost drowned,” Nell said, “but Marilee performed CPR and brought me back from my grave.”
Sam just looked at her.
Marilee chuckled at the woman’s spunk. “Your mother is perfectly capable of bathing herself, but I enjoyed keeping her company.”
Nell rubbed her hands together. “Now, how about a slice of that cake?”
“None for me,” Marilee said. “I still have more cleaning to do.” She thought Sam looked disappointed. Maybe she was just being hopeful, and that was downright sinful, considering her circumstances. “It was nice seeing you again, Nell, after all this time,” she said and turned for the door. “You too, Sam.”
Nell shot her son a dark look. “Sam, show some manners and walk the girl home.”
“I was planning to,” he said defensively.
“I’ll be fine,” Marilee told them.
Sam was already beside her. “I insist. Besides, my mother would never forgive me for not seeing you home.” He opened the door and motioned her through first. He waited until he’d closed the door to say anything.
“Thanks for the help. And the cake.”
Marilee looked at him. “I dropped by so I could apologize. For what happened this morning. I don’t know what came over me. I was just so…low.”
Their gazes locked beneath the streetlight. He looked worried. “You haven’t thought of hurting yourself again, have you?”
“That’s the last thing on my mind,” she replied, which was the truth. Distractedly, she noted the pickup truck sitting in Sam’s driveway, then looked at it more closely. “You’re driving Bobby Benson’s truck,” she said, almost an accusation.
Sam glanced in that direction. “We’re business partners. We just haven’t gotten around to changing the name of the company.”
“I don’t believe this,” she exclaimed.
“It’s true. Why?”
“Our committee hired Benson Contractors to renovate Grace Blessing Home. Bobby walked off the job and went fishing.”
“You’re involved in that?”
“Yes. Why haven’t I seen you?”
“I’ve been finishing up the new hardware store on the other side of town. Haven’t been near Blessing Home. From what I hear, Benson wasn’t getting paid.”
“He’s going to get his money,” Marilee said tightly. “All we need is a little more time.”
“The subcontractors have to be paid, Marilee. You can’t expect men with families to work without pay.”
“Well, the whole thing has been a disappointment. We expected a little more support from the community. You wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve called, only to have the phone slammed in my ear.”
“Everybody has problems.” He sounded weary.
“You’re right. Nobody has time to worry about these girls, not even their own families. I suppose they’re just expected to live on the streets and have their babies on the side of the road.” Obviously, Sam was no different from the rest. She turned to go.
He captured her arm. “Now, don’t go running off in a huff. Surely we can work out something.” He was not surprised when she pulled her arm free. “How about I run by and look at the place tomorrow. See how much more work is needed.”
Marilee was surprised by his answer. “Well, okay,” she said after a moment. “You don’t know how much that would mean to the committee.”
“I’m not doing it for the committee. I’m doing it because you were kind enough to assist my mother with her bath.”
“I appreciate it regardless.”
“And I’d like to make repairs at your place. That ceiling beam is going to cave in if we don’t get some support up there. Won’t take me long to fix it and the front door.”
Marilee wondered why he was offering his help when all she’d done was sit with his mother for a few minutes while the woman had bathed. Was he trying to come on to her? She had no idea—she’d been married so long, she didn’t know how men operated these days. As far as Sam was concerned, all she had to go on was his reputation, and that alone was enough reason to keep her distance. “Why don’t you let me think about it?”
“I don’t expect anything in return, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Even as he spoke, Sam knew it was a lie. He’d had his eyes on Marilee for years, and the thought of spending time with her, even if he was perched on a ladder, was appealing. But first, he needed to find out what was going on between Grady and her.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply you had ulterior motives,” she said quickly, although that wasn’t altogether true. This conversation was making her uncomfortable. “Well, I’d better go inside.”
“You’re right. You don’t want Mrs. Bodine from across the street finding you in the dark with a man of my reputation.”
He sounded amused, and Marilee wondered if he was making fun of her. She hitched her chin higher. “I don’t much care what anyone thinks.”
“Good for you.” He cupped her elbow in the palm of his hand and led her toward her house. “I don’t know what problems you’re going through, Marilee, and the last thing I want to do is butt in. But I’m a good listener if you ever need a sounding board.”
“I’m fine. Thank you, though, for your concern.”
Sam suspected he would be the last one she would take her problems to. She was keeping him at arm’s length, and that made him even more determined to learn more about her. “Thanks again for helping my mother. You probably think I’m overprotective, but she was in a bad way when I first moved here.”
“I understand she lost her best friend.”
“I meant healthwise.”
“Sometimes depression can bring on physical problems,” Marilee said gently. “I’ve spent a lot of time working with the elderly, and no matter how old a person gets they want to feel productive.”
They had reached her door. Sam gazed down at her, thinking no woman had a right to look that good in sweats. She had been pretty as a young girl and still was, though the years had softened her features. “I remember how lovely you looked in the Christmas parade the year you were crowned homecoming queen,” he blurted without thinking.
Marilee couldn’t hide her surprise. “That was a long time ago.”
“You wore a red velvet dress and tiny flowers in your hair.”
“Baby’s breath. I can’t believe you remember.”
“How could I forget? You stole the show.”
Marilee had been avoiding direct eye contact until then, but when she looked up she found him studying her curiously. A light breeze ruffled his dark hair. She remembered how Grady sprayed his hair each morning with something he bought at a beauty supply house that promised extra hold. It would have taken hurricane-force winds to muss the blond mane that he was so proud of. She wondered if she would spend the rest of her life comparing men to Grady. But how could she not, after all the years she was married to him? He might be out of her life, but one did not forget sixteen years that easily. Marilee had absolutely no business staring at Sam’s hair or the dark lock that had fallen onto his forehead. Or feeling flattered that he’d remembered how she’d looked in the Christmas parade all those years ago.
“Did you and Grady have children?”
“A son. He’s fifteen.”
“I remember being fifteen and thinking I had all the answers and everybody else was stupid.” He surprised her with a sheepish grin. “I wasn’t any better at sixteen and seventeen. I suppose that’s why I stayed in so much trouble.”
Marilee chuckled. “Yes, I remember they voted you the boy most likely to spend his life in San Quentin.” He smiled at that, and she tilted her head back slightly. “Are you still bad to the bone, Sam Brewer?” She couldn’t resist teasing and hoped he didn’t think she was flirting.
“I must not be too bad if you’re standing out here in the dark with me.”
He stepped closer, and Marilee froze. She felt her breath catch in the back of her throat. His face was only inches from hers. He was too handsome for his own good, and for one wild and insane moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he reached around and opened her door.
“Good night, Marilee,” he asked. “Don’t forget to use the chain on your door until I can fix it.”
She realized she was holding her breath, and when she let it out, hot air gushed from her lungs with such force it made her light-headed. She swayed slightly.
Sam caught her, a look of concern crossing his face. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine,” she said, annoyed that she had been so taken in by his good looks that she’d almost swooned. Swooned, for heaven’s sake! Nobody did that sort of thing anymore.
“You looked mighty nervous there for a moment. You didn’t think I was going to kiss you, did you?” An easy smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Charm and sensuality oozed from him. Yes, he was as bad as they came, at least where women were concerned. “You’re still a scoundrel, Sam Brewer.”
Without another word, Marilee hurried inside and closed the door, securing the chain with trembling hands. On the other side, she heard Sam laugh softly. His morals were still lower than a gopher hole. And wasn’t it just like him to assume he was going to make the repairs to her house? Well, he had another think coming because she wasn’t about to let that…that hellion inside her house, much less in her life.
She came to a halt. Wait a minute. Why was she so upset? The answer came quickly. Because he’d made her feel pretty and breathless and dizzy and she didn’t want to feel those things. She just wanted to feel numb, because it took the sharp edges off her emotions and made life bearable right now.
Marilee suddenly felt bone tired. She dreaded the mess that waited for her in the kitchen and longed for sleep, an escape from worrying about what she was going to do with her life. She dragged herself into the kitchen to set up the automatic coffeemaker and her mouth formed an O of surprise. The room was sparkling from top to bottom. Winnie.
SAM RETURNED HOME AND STOOD inside the living room, gazing about as though seeing it for the first time. Everything appeared the same, but he felt different somehow, and he knew it had everything to do with Marilee. He wondered if she knew just how close he had come to kissing her. Kissing her! He could only imagine how she would have responded. In fact, she probably would have punched him in the face. He grinned. He liked his women feisty; it was more challenging that way.
Where was her damn husband? And what about the kid?
Nell looked up from her recliner. “You’ve been up to no good, Samuel Brewer. I can see it in your eyes. I hope you weren’t fresh with that young woman. She has enough on her hands, what with losing her husband to the town floozy.”
So that was it, he thought. Marilee’s husband had obviously left her for another woman and taken the kid. Is that why she’d tried to hang herself? No doubt she was feeling the sting of rejection, and Sam knew exactly what she needed. He’d known his share of widows and divorcées, and he knew how to work them.
“And you can wipe that smile right off your face. Marilee is different from the sort of women you’ve known.”
“Mom, I’m hurt,” he said. “I wouldn’t think of taking advantage of her situation.”
“I know you better than you know yourself, young man.” Nell suddenly smiled. “Oh yes, guess who called while you were out? Shelly. Remember her? The two of you were married briefly. She promised to call back.”
Sam’s shoulders slumped. The last person in the world he wanted to talk to was his ex-wife, who usually called him because she needed money. As if he hadn’t been generous enough, she’d already taken him to court twice to raise her alimony. He’d let her get away with it because he’d felt guilty. He should have known the difference between love and simple infatuation. He should have worked harder at the marriage. But he had taken the easy way out. He had bought back his freedom.
As if on cue, the telephone rang. Sam stared at it.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Nell asked.
Giving a weary sigh, Sam picked up the phone. His ex spoke from the other end. “Hello, Shelly, what is it this time?”
“Sam, I’m so glad you answered,” she said, sounding near tears.
He rolled his eyes heavenward. She needed something and her needs ranged from cosmetic surgery to a new Jaguar. Either way, it was going to cost him. He had offered to put her through college and pay her expenses, but Shelly wasn’t interested in an education. She needed a caretaker and provider, and he’d played the part so well during their marriage that she still clung to him. He glanced at his mother and saw that she was taking it all in with a great deal of amusement.
“Sam, are you there?” Shelly asked.
“I’m here.” He sank into the nearest chair and waited for what was to come, his thoughts still on Marilee. Common sense told him he had no business getting involved with her. She was probably just as needy as his mother and his ex-wife. If only he would start thinking with his brain instead of getting a hard-on every time he saw a pretty face.
But damn, Marilee Abernathy did have the best legs he’d ever seen on a female.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, Marilee found herself filling out an application at the local Job Service center. She had checked the classifieds daily. Prissy’s Pets was looking for someone to groom dogs, the local tavern needed a cocktail waitress, and Darnel Hines was advertising for a mechanic. Slim pickings, to say the least. She would have to look elsewhere.
“Marilee, I just want you to know how sorry I was to hear about you and Grady,” Leanne Davis, who worked at the job placement center, whispered.
Marilee forced a smile to her lips as she handed the woman her job application. She and Leanne had attended high school together and had cheered the Fighting Pirates in their cutesy blue-and-gold cheerleading outfits. Her friend had since married and had three children, gaining at least ten pounds with each pregnancy. Marilee wondered if either one of them would fit in their old cheerleading skirts.
“Thank you, Leanne. You don’t know how much I appreciate that. But I’m going to be just fine.” She didn’t believe it at the moment, but if she said it enough perhaps it would come true.
“I can’t help feeling guilty. After all, I was the one who introduced you to Grady in high school.”
“That was a long time ago. I certainly don’t hold you responsible.”
“That’s why I’m going to do everything in my power to help you find a job.”
With that in mind, Marilee decided to let Leanne feel guilty a little while longer. It wasn’t the Christian thing to do, but she was desperate. “Thank you. I know you’ll do your best.”
“Only trouble is, there aren’t many jobs available in Chickpea.” Leanne leaned closer. “What I want to know is, did you suspect anything?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you know Grady was sleeping with that slut?”
Marilee shook her head. “I was the last to know.” She smiled tightly. “But I’m trying to put all that behind me now and go on with my life. That’s why I need a job.”
“Of course you do, honey,” Leanne said, patting her hand. “And we’re going to find you something.” She straightened in her chair and considered Marilee’s application. “Hmm. You don’t have a degree.”
Marilee tried to look confident. “No, I don’t. But I’m intelligent, quick to learn, and I’m a hard worker. There isn’t much I can’t do once I put my mind to it.”
“Of course you can, sugar.” Leanne shuffled through more papers. “Is there something you’re particularly interested in? Something you’re really good at?”
“I play the piano and sing. I was choir director at our church for years. But you probably already know that.” She suddenly brightened. “I bake cakes.”
Leanne looked up. “Do what?”
“Just ask me the ingredients of any cake you’ve ever heard of, and I can spout them off word for word. Red velvet, Lady Baltimore, German chocolate, you name it. I personally put together a fifty-page cookbook of my own recipes for a committee I’m on, and we sold several hundred copies.” Marilee clasped her hands in her lap. She could see that it meant nothing to Leanne.
“Too bad Mitch Johnson isn’t hiring over at the bakery,” Leanne replied.
Marilee remained thoughtful. Surely there was something she could do. “I like being around people, for what it’s worth,” she said. “Folks say I have a calming effect on those who are troubled. I’ve spent many a night sitting with the sick in hospitals and nursing homes, and I always tried to be there when someone from the congregation lost a loved one.”
“You enjoy that sort of thing?” Leanne asked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“I like helping people. Perhaps I could be a nurses’ aid.”
“You’d have to take classes, and the pay is low, but it’s something to keep in mind.” She studied Marilee. “You say you don’t mind working with the bereaved?”
“Not at all. I’m used to it.”
Leanne seemed to ponder it. Finally, she reached for a file. “Well then, Marilee, I just might have something for you after all.”
THAT AFTERNOON, MARILEE WAS waiting for Winnie when she stepped off the school bus. “I need your help,” she told the girl.
Winnie adjusted the shoulder strap on her book bag. “With what?”
Marilee grinned. “Get in the car, and I’ll tell you on the way.”
“You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
“I want to teach somebody a lesson, and you’re the perfect person to help me.”
“Who’s the victim?”
“Esmerelda Cunningham. You know her?”
“The Queen Bee?” Winnie gave a grunt. “I know of her—rich, stingy and mean.”
“I think she needs a refresher course in manners.”
“Then I’m your girl.”
After their admittance to Esmerelda Cunningham’s grand house, Marilee followed a staid-looking butler into the drawing room with Winnie on her heels, carrying the antique candelabra. Esmerelda was sipping tea from a dainty cup and listening to opera. She looked queenly, her dress crisp as new money and not a hair out of place on her white head.
“I was not expecting guests,” she said coolly, “but I am relieved to find my candelabra in good repair.”
“Just set it over there,” Marilee told Winnie.
The girl set the candelabra on a Duncan Phyfe table with a thump as Marilee, hands on hips, faced Esmerelda. “Yes, I brought it back once I heard you’d accused me of stealing it. I have absolutely no interest in it. I don’t know about you, but I have a life, and I’m not going to spend it polishing silver.” She hitched her chin high and sniffed. “I prefer stainless steel myself.”
Esmerelda set her cup in its saucer so hard Marilee feared it would shatter. “I beg your pardon? Do you dare come into my home and insult me after I was generous enough to donate to your cause? And who is this person with you?”
“Name’s Winnie Frye,” Winnie said. “Hey, I like your place. It’s a bit crowded for my tastes, and I shudder to think about trying to raise a toddler around all these expensive-looking eggs you got sittin’ around.”
“Those aren’t eggs,” Esmerelda said. “They are original Fabergé.” Winnie picked up one, and the woman gasped aloud. “Put that down immediately!”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Mrs. C.,” Winnie said. “I’m just curious by nature. I like touching things, you know?” She walked over to a Tiffany lamp. “Oh, now, I like this.”
“Hands off!” Esmerelda almost shouted, causing Winnie to jump and almost knock over the lamp. Esmerelda sank into her chair and mopped her forehead with a handkerchief. She looked at Marilee. “What’s the meaning of this?”
Marilee tried to hide her amusement. “Winnie was living at Blessing Home until it was declared unsafe. We’ve managed to find homes for the other girls, but we haven’t had any luck placing Winnie.” She stepped closer and whispered, “She has mood swings, and her pregnancy has made them worse. I guess you might say she’s hormonally challenged right now.” Marilee cut her eyes toward the girl.
Esmerelda looked from Marilee to Winnie before settling her gaze on Marilee once more. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I was sort of hoping you’d let me crash here on your sofa for a while,” Winnie said. “I’d really prefer my own bedroom, you understand, but I don’t want to put you out. I reckon I could set up a bassinet over here by this window. I want my baby to have plenty of sunlight, and this place is kinda dark, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“You must be out of your mind,” Esmerelda said to Marilee. “No wonder your husband left you.”
Marilee was surprised the remark didn’t sting as much as it had in the past. “Now, now, Mrs. Cunningham, I know you’re a person of good breeding, and you wouldn’t think of stooping to insults, so I’m just going to state my business. We need a home for Winnie, and you have the biggest house in town. Surely you wouldn’t mind having a guest around.”
“I most certainly do mind,” the woman said. “This is not a hotel.”
“It’s big enough to be a hotel,” Winnie said. “I hear this place even has an elevator and swimming pool. Would it be okay if I brought some of the brothers over for a weenie roast and pool party?”
Esmerelda stared in horror. She turned to Marilee. “Don’t think for one minute I don’t know what’s going on here. You’re simply trying to embarrass me for making a fuss over the candelabra. Well, it won’t work. I did my duty by donating it to your charity, it’s not my fault you weren’t there to hand it over at the drawing. I can only hope you’ve come to your senses and will see that it is delivered safely to the woman who won it.”
“I don’t want your dumb old candelabra,” Marilee said. “We’ll find another prize.”
“What do you mean, you don’t want it? Do you have any idea what it’s worth?”
“I know what it’s not worth, Mrs. Cunningham. It’s not worth being called a thief.” Esmerelda looked away. “But that’s not why I’m here. Winnie needs a place to stay,” she repeated.
“Is this a sleeper sofa?” Winnie asked. “I’d hate to sleep on this expensive fabric, what with my bladder problem.”
Esmerelda looked as though she was about to have a seizure. “Dudley, come here this instant!” she called out loudly. The butler seemed to appear from nowhere. “Please escort these women from my home. And carry that candelabra to their car.” She turned to Marilee. “My business with you is finished. I’ve done my part.”
“Forget the candelabra, Dudley,” Marilee said. “And we are more than capable of showing ourselves out.” She and Winnie started for the door.
“You wait just a darned minute, young lady!” Esmerelda said. “You are not leaving this house without that candelabra. I insist! I’m not about to have my friends think I went back on my word.” She drew herself up proudly. “I’m retiring to my bedroom now. I don’t want to hear another word about it.” She left in a huff.
Marilee looked at the butler. “I’ll bet she’s a peach to work for.”
Dudley chuckled as he followed them out the door, carrying the candelabra.
Marilee pulled into her driveway twenty minutes later and found Clara and Ruby planting mums in the old cast-iron pot out front. “We thought it would cheer you up,” Clara said as Marilee and Winnie climbed from the car.
Marilee was touched by her friends’ thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”
“How did things go with Esmerelda?” Ruby asked.
“The woman needs a beating with a big stick,” Winnie said. “Imagine her not wanting to take me in. And here I am with child. I’m telling you, she can go from zero to bitch in two seconds flat.”
Marilee laughed as she pulled the candelabra from her back seat. “Naturally, she insisted we take the candelabra after all. She doesn’t want to look bad to her friends.”
“What friends?” Winnie muttered.
“Did she apologize for what she said about you?” Ruby asked.
“What do you think?” Marilee presented the candelabra to Clara. “I trust you’ll see that this gets into the right hands.”
“Yes, of course.” She put it in her car.
“By the way, my next-door neighbor happens to be partners with Bobby Benson, and he has offered to take a look at Blessing Home. If he agrees to patch the roof, we’ll have to come up with the money.”
“How do we know he won’t walk off the job like Bobby?” Ruby asked. “And how much is he thinking of charging us?” As committee treasurer, she was tightfisted when it came to doling out money.
“He’s going to let me know,” Marilee said. “I think that with the benefit luncheon and cookbook sales we should be able to cover it.”
“There’s a lot more to be done,” Clara said. “We’re going to have to put our heads together and come up with more moneymaking schemes.”
Ruby looked thoughtful. “How about a white elephant sale?”
“That might work,” Clara said. “What do you think, Marilee?”
Marilee sighed. “Maybe.”
“Have you lost interest in this project?” Clara asked.
Marilee was beginning to wish she’d never gotten involved, but she couldn’t let them down again. “Of course not. It’s just—”
“She’s got a lot on her mind,” Ruby said. “And rightfully so. Honey, Clara and I need to take on more responsibility, what with all that’s happened. And we need to get our other volunteers off their behinds.”
Clara gave a harrumph. “What volunteers? They’ve all dropped out.”
“Let me see what Mr. Brewer has to say, once he takes a look at the place,” Marilee told them.
Winnie started for the house, and then paused. “I have a four-thirty appointment at the clinic tomorrow. I go every three weeks for my prenatal exam.”
“I can drive you,” Marilee said.
Clara smiled at Winnie. “Are you all settled in, dear?”
“For the time being. But I only plan on hanging around for a couple of days. My girlfriend just rented one of those luxury apartments in town, and she’s having a fit for me to move in with her. Soon as she gets an extra bed, I’m outta here.” She headed for the house without another word.
“She’s not going anywhere,” Marilee told her friends as they shot her a questioning look.
“How’s the job hunting?” Ruby asked, changing the subject.
“I have an appointment with Irby Denton at the funeral home tomorrow.”
“Oh my,” Clara said. “You’re going to work at a funeral home?”
“Irby has to hire me first,” Marilee pointed out.
Both women stared back at her. Finally, Ruby smiled. “Hey, I think that’s great! What exactly would you be doing there? If he hires you, I mean?”
“He needs a receptionist. It’s an entry-level position, but I have to start somewhere.”
“Oh my,” Clara repeated.
Ruby looked at the woman. “Clara, why do you keep saying that?”
Clara stared at Marilee. “Ruby doesn’t know your secret, does she?” Clara whispered.
“What secret?” Ruby asked, glancing from one to the other.
Marilee shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Besides, I need this job. I just discovered Grady took a chunk of money out of our savings account.”
“You need a good lawyer,” Clara said.
“I’ve already made an appointment. Tate Radford says he can have me divorced in ninety days on grounds of adultery.”
“Well, they don’t come any better than Tate,” Clara said, “but he’s not cheap.”
“I want somebody good, in case I end up with a custody battle on my hands,” Marilee replied.
Clara reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Are you okay?”
Marilee offered what she hoped was a brave smile. “Better than I was. I’m not going to recover overnight and I still think of Josh constantly, but I’m definitely better.”
Ruby stamped her foot on the ground. “Somebody better tell me about this secret or I’m going to throw a fit right here in Marilee’s front yard.”
“Oh, good grief!” Clara said. She stepped closer to Ruby. “Marilee is terrified of dead people. She has a phobia.”
Ruby’s eyes grew wide as saucers as she regarded Marilee. “No kidding?”
Marilee shot Clara a disgruntled look. “I’m not terrified of anything.” Other than the future, she reminded herself.
“Marilee Abernathy, I watched you almost pass out when Sara Banks asked you to remove her husband’s wedding ring from his finger at his funeral,” Clara said. She looked at Ruby. “Marilee had a full-blown panic attack out in the parking lot. I almost had to bring out my smelling salts.”
“I just don’t like touching dead people,” Marilee said. “I hardly think that’s going to be a problem if I’m working at the front desk.”
“I’ve touched plenty of dead people,” Ruby told her proudly. “Irby sometimes calls me to do hair and makeup when his wife can’t do it. Dead people can’t hurt you, Marilee.”
Clara looked doubtful. “Irby is never going to hire you if he finds out.”
“He’s not going to find out,” Marilee replied. She looked long and hard at her friends. “Is he?”
Both women pretended to zip their lips, lock them shut and throw away the keys. Marilee smiled prettily. “Thank you.”
“What if you have to help him embalm somebody?” Ruby whispered.
“I’m not going to go near the embalming room. You have to go to a special school for that.” Both women looked skeptical. “You have to admit I’m perfect for the job. I’ve been comforting the bereaved for years. It’s what I do best.”
“You are perfect for the job,” Clara said. “As long as you don’t go near any dead people.”
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, MARILEE watched Josh step from the bus at the high school. He was alone, his back bowed, head down. His posture said it all. He didn’t fit in, never had. He paid a heavy price for being a minister’s son with a weight problem. He’d never had a girlfriend, never attended a school dance or social gathering, but if he were invited, Marilee was certain he wouldn’t go because he felt like an outcast. Marilee suffered as much as he did over it, but she kept quiet because Josh would have been embarrassed for her to know. But she knew. Mothers always knew. The only friends Josh had attended Chickpea Baptist, and she doubted he was spending much time there these days.
“Josh,” she called out, waving at him in the crowd.
He took one look at her and turned in the opposite direction.
Her heart sank. “Josh, wait!” She pushed through the throng of students, never letting her eyes off his blond head. She caught up with him outside the gym. “Josh, please wait!”
He turned and glared at her as kids shuffled past, tossing curious looks in their direction. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
His face was red. Marilee knew he didn’t like drawing attention to himself, preferring anonymity to being noticed and risking ridicule. She often wondered why kids were so cruel. And to think she’d considered ending her life, when Josh was so completely alone in the world. “I need to talk to you, honey.”
“I have class.”
“Just give me five minutes, Josh. I don’t think that’s asking too much.”
His eyes blazed. “Don’t you get it, Mom? I don’t want to talk to you. I want to be left alone.”
His look wrenched her heart. “I don’t deserve this, Josh.”
But he was already gone, lost among the crowd. Marilee stood there, frozen, feeling as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, and for a moment she thought she’d be sick. Her eyes smarted as she staggered toward her car. She was only vaguely aware of the stares she received from some of the students. Don’t cry, she told herself. Don’t even think about it right now. The last thing she needed to do was arrive at her interview with swollen eyes.
She would cry later in the privacy of her room. In fact, she looked forward to it.
DENTON FUNERAL HOME was less than a mile from town, a massive, two-story colonial that housed the business in the basement and first floor, while the second floor served as an apartment for the family. When Irby Denton greeted Marilee on the wide porch, where ferns shuddered in the mid-September breeze, she saw that he’d changed very little since high school.
His hair was still fire-engine red, but his hairline had receded, and the laugh lines that bracketed his mouth were deeper. He wore the same mischievous look that had labeled him class clown and prankster as far back as kindergarten, where he’d swallowed one of Mrs. Finch’s goldfish, sending the young teacher into a frenzy and causing one girl to throw up on her new Mary Janes. His parents had been promptly summoned to the school, and he was given a three-day suspension. Upon his return, his desk was placed at the front of the class, near Mrs. Finch, who was perturbed that he’d botched her alphabetical seating arrangements.
“Marilee, you look as pretty as you did the day they crowned you homecoming queen,” Irby said, giving her a bear hug that she half feared would crack a rib. His wife, Debbie, stood beside him. They’d married right after graduation, and Marilee still recalled how the tongues had wagged when Debbie gave birth only eight months after their wedding night. Debbie’s mother had declared to family and friends that the child was premature, despite the fact the newborn had weighed more than eight pounds. The couple had gone on to have a total of four children, ranging from eighteen months to sixteen years old.
“You look wonderful,” Debbie said, a toddler propped on one hip. “You’re going to have to give me your beauty secrets.”
Marilee wondered if they were simply trying to soothe her wounded ego, now that Grady had publicly humiliated her. “Thank you. I don’t believe I’ve met the latest addition to the Denton family.”
Debbie looked proud. “This is Ben, named after Irby’s grandfather. We call him Bennie.”
“Nice to meet you, Bennie.” She tried to shake his hand playfully, but he pulled away and buried his face against Debbie’s breasts.
“He’s shy,” Debbie said. “And a little spoiled.”
“Come on in the house,” Irby said. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Marilee followed, stepping over a toy car as she went. “No, thanks.”
Irby picked up the toy and handed it to his wife. “Honey, you’re going to have to tell David to keep his toys upstairs. I can’t have folks tripping over them when they come through the door.”
Debbie nodded wearily. “I’ve tried, Irby, believe me.”
He nodded sympathetically. “I know.” He looked at Marilee. “It’s not easy, a big family like ours living upstairs like we do, but it’s cheaper this way. We have the space, mind you, but the kids still wander downstairs from time to time. Debbie, would you watch the phones while I chat with Marilee for a bit?”
“Of course.”
Irby led Marilee through the reception area, passing several closed doors that she knew from experience were parlors designed for relatives to view their loved ones before burial. Antiques in dire need of polishing adorned the rooms.
“Here we are,” Irby said once they’d reached a paneled office. The furniture looked as though it had come from a garage sale. A computer sat on a battered credenza, the screen saver a scrolling marquee that read, People Are Dying to Come Here. “Have a seat, Marilee.”
“Thank you.” Marilee sat down and was met with what sounded like a giant fart. She leaped from the chair, and then frowned at the sight of a whoopee cushion. “Irby Denton, won’t you ever grow up!”
He looked surprised. “I swear I didn’t do it,” he said, rounding the desk and grabbing the cushion. He tossed it aside. “David, our ten-year-old, is obviously up to his old tricks.”
“And where do you suppose he learned them?” Marilee said, hands on hips.
Irby shrugged as though he hadn’t a clue. “I’ll tell you, the boy has no shame.” He looked remorseful despite one corner of his mouth tugging as though he would burst into laughter at the slightest provocation. “I should beat all of our children, but Debbie won’t permit it. That’s why they’re so spoiled.”
Marilee knew Irby wouldn’t beat a rug to rid it of dust. “Well, I hope I have no more surprises this morning.”
“I’m going to be on my best behavior.” He reclaimed his seat and shuffled through a mountain of papers on his desk. “I was…uh…sorry to hear about you and Grady. Debbie said I shouldn’t bring it up but if there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”
Marilee clenched her hands in her lap. “Thank you for your concern, Irby, but don’t worry.”
He cleared his throat. “This place is a mess,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. “My other assistant eloped two weeks ago, leaving me high and dry. Debbie and I haven’t had a chance to catch up with all the paperwork. You can’t imagine how thrilled I was when Leanne from the Job Service called to tell me you were interested in working here. Debbie and I both agree you’re perfect for the job.”
Marilee sat up straighter in her chair. “Um, Irby, before we go on, I’d like to know exactly what duties I’m to perform.”
Irby reached for an Atlanta Braves baseball cap and plopped it on his head. “Just seein’ that the place runs smoothly. Sometimes I might need you to fill in for me if I’m in the middle of something and can’t let go.”
“Fill in?” Her voice wavered.
“You know, hose down a body, stick ‘em in the goozle and drain the good stuff. Sew a few eyelids closed.”
Marilee paled instantly. She covered her mouth.
“Hey, I’m just having fun with you, Marilee.” Irby looked concerned. “Are you okay, honey? You can’t take things too seriously around here, know what I mean?”
“That wasn’t funny, Irby. Nor was swallowing that goldfish.”
“That happened a long time ago, Marilee. I’ve matured since then. Okay, maybe not as much as I should have, but I promise I’ll be serious from now on.” He put on a pair of reading glasses, as if that in itself would do the trick. “The main thing you have to do is cover the phones and know where to find me in case I have a body run.”
“Body run?”
“That’s not exactly how we refer to it in front of our clients. The correct term is body removal, but it means the same thing.” He reached back and patted the computer. “You know how to operate one of these babies?”
Marilee nodded. “I worked in the church office long enough to learn the basics.”
“Many of our clients have already made funeral preparations, and it’s all listed right here, down to the last detail. We even have pictures on file so Debbie can copy their hair and makeup. We want them to look as natural as we can.” He rolled his eyes. “Some of the ladies make arrangements beforehand to have their regular hairdressers come in, if you can believe it. I’ve never understood that, but I go along with it anyway. I reckon I ought to order some blue rinse and put a salon chair back there, only we’d have to strap ‘em in. Know what I mean?”
Marilee chose to ignore the remark. She desperately needed the job. “Will I be expected to meet with the families?”
“Sometimes. This is a funny business. We have weeks where it’s slower’n molasses running down a cold stovepipe, other times I don’t know if I’m coming or going. But you won’t have any trouble. You’ve helped folks through bad times before.” He reached for a folder. “Our fees are listed according to the needs of individual families. You’ll want to study this so you’re prepared.”
Marilee took the folder and glanced through it, noting the various price options. “What do you do in the event someone can’t pay in advance?”
“I know this sounds harsh, Marilee, but I insist the families pay up front. It’s not like I can go dig up someone if the family can’t cough up the rest of the money. Although I’ve threatened to on a few occasions,” he muttered.
“Sometimes you’ll get family members who want to send off a loved one in high style, and you know just by looking at them that they can’t afford it. You need to try and talk ‘em down as far as costs. And they want to stick the craziest things in the coffin with the deceased. One woman had us put her husband’s portable TV set in with him because she said all he ever did while he was alive was watch television.” He grinned. “’Course, I had to cut off his legs to fit the damn thing in there with him.”
Ignore, ignore, ignore. “Um, Irby?”
“Yes?”
She shifted in her chair. “Do you get many young people?”
His look sobered instantly. “Not often, thank God. They’re tough. Debbie won’t go near them, seein’ as how we have kids and all.” He paused. “That’s why you can’t take things so seriously, Marilee.”
Marilee suddenly realized why Irby joked so much.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper. “We have a questionnaire we ask our new clients to fill out. Usually their minister has already been contacted, but in cases where the deceased wasn’t a member of a church, we have a couple of clergy who fill in when necessary. You’ll need information for the obituary.” He paused. “You play the piano, don’t you?”
Marilee nodded, wondering what one had to do with the other. “My mother insisted that all young ladies should know how to play.”
“In some cases, the family decides to hold services in our small chapel. You could pick up extra money if you played for them. Anywhere from fifty to a hundred bucks.”
“That’s more than I made teaching piano lessons,” Marilee said.
“It’s entirely up to you, of course.” He clasped his hands together at the back of his neck. “So, what do you say? You want the job or not?”
Marilee was surprised. “Just like that?”
“You’re the perfect candidate. I can start you at eight dollars an hour, which is more than I was paying my last assistant.”
It wasn’t a lot of money but to Marilee, who’d done volunteer work for so long without receiving a penny, it sounded good. “I’d like to give it a try. I promise to do my best.”
“I never doubted it for a minute. Now, let me show you around.”
“Show me around?”
“You know, in case you need to use the ladies’ room while you’re here. You’ll definitely want to know where the bathrooms are located.”
Once again, Marilee followed Irby. They reentered the reception area, where Debbie was bouncing Bennie on her knee and talking on the phone. Irby explained Marilee’s job duties, and then led her to three individual parlors, one of which held an assortment of flowers.
“This is where Mr. Elmore’s family will be receiving visitors this evening,” he said.
“Dan Elmore, who used to own the Plaza Theater?”
“The very same. I wish I had a dime for every time he caught me trying to sneak into the theater for free.”
“He was up in age, wasn’t he?”
“Almost ninety. But fit as a fiddle till the very end.”
“How’d he die?”
“Fell off a ladder while painting his house. His wife went all to pieces.”
“I can imagine.”
“Said she had to go and hire a painter to finish the job.” He glanced around the room. “Yes sir, there’ll be quite a crowd tonight. That’s why I’m putting Dan in room A. It’s our largest parlor.” He showed her the other rooms, one of which was considerably smaller. “This one is used mostly for private funerals or for those who don’t have many friends.”
Marilee thought of mean old Esmerelda Cunningham.
“And this,” Irby said, opening a set of double doors, “is the casket room.”
Marilee wasn’t prepared, and she took a step back. “Oh my.”
“It’s okay,” Irby said, cupping her elbow gently. “This is not a very pleasant room, but there’ll be times you’ll have to escort a family in here so they can pick out something for the deceased. Some people are very particular and want to know everything, others will leave it up to us. Just think of it as picking out an automobile.”
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” Marilee said. She pointed at a bronze-colored coffin. “That one’s nice.”
“That’s our Cadillac of coffins, so to speak,” Irby said, leading her over. “Naturally, we put the nicest ones up front, hoping our clients will choose the most expensive.” He grinned. “Pretty vulgar, huh? But hey, I’ve got four kids to raise. Let me show you the satin lining inside.” He lifted the top section.
Marilee glanced down and saw what looked like skeletal remains. She was only vaguely aware of the baseball cap and hideous smile. All the blood drained from her face, and she let out a scream. She raced from the room, praying her knees would not buckle beneath her, and slammed into Debbie, almost knocking her and Bennie over as she scrambled toward the front door.
“What in heaven’s name!” Debbie said.
“There’s a…dead person in that coffin,” Marilee cried.
“Damn that Irby,” Debbie said, her expression dark and menacing. “He’s gone too far this time.” She grabbed Marilee’s hand. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s just a rubber skeleton.” Marilee was sobbing. Debbie shook her slightly. “It’s not real.”
“What?” Marilee realized she was hysterical.
“Irby Denton, get your sorry self in here right this minute!” Debbie shouted at the top of her lungs. “Marilee, sit down before you fall down.”
Marilee took a chair next to the front door in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
Irby appeared, looking sheepish. “Gee, Marilee, I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Just having a little fun, right?” Debbie snapped, causing Bennie to cry. “It’s not a damn bit funny, Irby, and I wouldn’t blame Marilee if she told you to shove the job up your behind.” She looked at Marilee. “Honey, do you need smelling salts?”
Marilee shook her head, feeling foolish now that she realized the skeleton wasn’t real. Nevertheless, it was a cruel trick on Irby’s part. She tossed him a menacing look.
“I should clobber you.”
“Go ahead and punch him,” Debbie said. “Lord knows he deserves it.” She tried to comfort the squalling child, even as she continued shouting at her husband. “This is a funeral home, not a playground!”
Irby looked contrite. “I promise it won’t happen again, Marilee. Do you still want the job?”
Marilee regarded him. He truly looked pitiful standing there. “I’ll take the job on a temporary basis, but if you try that sort of thing with me again you’ll be looking for a new assistant.”
Irby nodded, shamefaced. “How soon can you start?”
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that Tate Radford was the best lawyer in Chickpea. Luckily, he’d had a cancellation; otherwise, Marilee would have had to wait three weeks to get an appointment.
She chose a smart navy suit for the occasion. It wasn’t pure linen, but one would have been hard-pressed to prove it, because it certainly looked like the real McCoy. Her navy heels wore a designer label and would have cost a fortune if she hadn’t found them in a consignment shop. The outfit gave her a look of sophistication—at least she hoped so, because she needed all the confidence she could muster.
She’d spent a sleepless night worrying about Josh. Marilee was sure that below his anger lay a feeling of loneliness and desolation, but how could she convince him to reach out to her? She was an emotional wreck just thinking about it. No mother wanted her child to suffer, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart, not when she was putting plans in motion to get him back.
Later, when all this was behind her and she had a little time on her hands, she would allow herself the mother of all nervous breakdowns.
“Mrs. Abernathy, you can go in now,” the young receptionist called out, startling Marilee from her thoughts. “Second door on the left.”
“Thank you.” Marilee stood and smoothed her skirt into place. Tucking her handbag under one arm, she proceeded down a short hall, gulping in air as she went. The door opened and a tall, angular man stepped out.
“Mrs. Abernathy, I’m Tate Radford.” He offered his hand and they shook before he led her inside his office.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Marilee said, realizing she had taken in too much air and now felt dizzy. It would be just her luck to hyperventilate in the man’s office.
“Please sit down,” he said, motioning to a chair. Seating himself on the other side of his desk, he gave her an odd look. “Mrs. Abernathy, are you okay? You look pale.”
She nodded. “I’m fine. This is my first time, you see. Not the first time I’ve been in a lawyer’s office, of course. I had to deal with my parents’ attorney after my mother passed on, but that’s neither here nor there. This is my first…uh…divorce.”
He looked sympathetic. “Do you think there’s a chance of reconciliation?”
Marilee was surprised by the question. Even if Grady wanted her back, which wasn’t likely, now that he had a woman who probably knew more positions than Dr. Ruth, how would she ever trust him again? He had betrayed her, not only as her husband, but by throwing away all they’d believed in, the very foundation of their marriage. He’d turned his back on his family and work because he’d lusted for another woman, simple as that. Worse, Grady’d taken their son into that woman’s house, where he and LaFonda were living without benefit of marriage. Not that Grady was free to marry at this point, mind you, but he could have waited, instead of flaunting the affair.
“Mrs. Abernathy?”
Marilee looked up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Radford. This has been one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made, and believe me, I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about it. The answer to your question is no. I do not want a reconciliation. I never thought I’d say this, but I want to get out of this marriage as quickly as possible. And I want my son with me so he can live a normal life. I sense he’s very troubled, and he needs guidance. He won’t find it where he is presently living.” She paused to catch her breath. “I guess you were just expecting a simple yes-or-no answer, huh?”
“I want my clients to feel comfortable talking to me, Mrs. Abernathy. Is your husband, by chance, Reverend Grady Abernathy from Chickpea Baptist Church?”
“He was, but he was asked to leave.”
“That might prove helpful to our case.” Tate pulled a yellow legal pad from his desk drawer. “I’d like to jot down a few notes if you don’t mind. Now, you say your husband is living with a woman. Do you know her name?”
“LaFonda Bonaire. At least that’s what she calls herself. Her real name is Betty Clump.”
“So you can prove your husband is committing adultery?”
“Yes. They’re living in her mobile home in Tall Pines Trailer Park.”
“And he has your son? How old is the boy?”
“Fifteen. His name is Josh.”
Tate sat back in his chair and regarded her. “Do you think your husband took Josh against his will?”
Marilee looked at her hands. “I don’t know what to think, Mr. Radford. My son has been going through a rebellious stage for some time now. Our relationship was strained before he left. He may very well have gone on his own.” It wasn’t easy for her to admit that, even to herself.
“I have teenagers myself, Mrs. Abernathy. I think divorce is hard on kids at any age, but it seems to hit them hardest in the teen years. Also, the boy probably has more freedom living with his dad, and when you’re a teenager that seems to matter more than anything. Have you tried talking to him?”
Marilee told him about her trip to the school. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”
“He’s probably ashamed of what he’s done. Frankly, I don’t know why your husband wants the boy there in the first place. Seems like it would crowd the love nest.”
Marilee shrugged. “Maybe he feels less guilty this way.”
Tate folded his hands across his stomach. “I’ll level with you, Mrs. Abernathy. It won’t be easy getting your son back if he prefers being with his dad. After all, he’s old enough to decide with whom he wishes to live. If he were younger, you’d have no problem getting custody. As it stands, you’ll have to fight, and that’s going to cost money.”
Marilee shifted in her chair. “How much?”
“First we have to prove, without a doubt, that your husband is living with this Miss Bonaire. I can hire a private investigator to spend a couple of nights watching the place, get your husband’s comings and goings on video. As for your son, I’d advise you to hire a child advocate, someone who will do a home study of both residences and decide the best interests of your child. You’re looking at a cost of several thousand dollars, plus my retainer, which is fifteen hundred. Now, if we get into a custody battle, my bill is going to be substantially higher. I’ll need about six thousand dollars in an escrow account if we’re to proceed with the child advocate.”
Marilee’s heart sank. She reminded herself she was doing it for Josh, and suddenly money didn’t seem to matter as much. “I think I can put my hands on that much money. My husband and I had a modest savings account, but he’s already taken out half.”
Radford arched one eyebrow. “I suggest you get to the bank before he has a chance to clean it out completely. Once you retain me as counsel, I’ll arrange for a temporary hearing and request visitation with your son. The home study will take longer.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from a file. “I’ll need you to fill out this financial statement and give me a sworn affidavit as to what led to the breakup of your marriage. Like I said, if we can prove adultery, I can have you divorced in ninety days, but should custody become an issue, there’s no telling how long it’ll take.”
Marilee nodded. “I’ll have the money before you close your office this afternoon.”
JOSH ABERNATHY STOOD AT the entrance to Tall Pines Trailer Park and waited for the school bus. On the other side of the pockmarked road, three teenagers smoked cigarettes and watched him. Two of them were his age; one was older. He knew the older guy’s reputation and decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut. Every now and then one of the younger kids would make a wisecrack, and the other would burst into laughter. Josh didn’t have to be psychic to know they were talking about him. People had been making fun of him all his life. The preacher’s kid, they called him, as if he didn’t have a name of his own. Goody Two-shoes. Fatso.
He didn’t belong, and he never had. Not with the kids who wore faded jeans with holes in the knees, and certainly not with the jocks, who ragged him in the shower because he’d put on weight over the past couple of years. He’d stopped showering, only to be made fun of in sixth period for being sweaty, so then he’d stopped participating in gym class at all. Instead, he sat on the bleachers and flunked the class each semester.
His mother claimed he wasn’t fat, said he was just a big kid, but he knew he outweighed kids his own age by a good twenty-five or thirty pounds. When he wore thin T-shirts he could see the roll in his stomach, which was why he’d started wearing black, short-sleeve sweatshirts. His parents said he looked as if he was in mourning, but he didn’t care. Actually, he felt as though someone or something had died. He’d had that feeling for a long time now, although he couldn’t say exactly when it had begun. Probably it had started a couple of years back, when his parents had stopped talking.
Josh heard the boys snicker, but he refused to look their way. Where was the bus, anyway?
“Hey, lard-ass, you want a drag of this here cigarette?” one boy asked.
The older guy remained detached, as though his thoughts were elsewhere.
Josh ignored them. He no longer cared what people thought. When he was younger he’d go off by himself and cry. Now he just shrugged it off. He wished he’d stayed in bed. He wished he was invisible.
He was invisible as far as his dad was concerned. All the man could think of was his new girlfriend. Josh wondered if his dad had lost it. One minute he was this respected minister bent on saving the world, next thing Josh knew he was banging some waitress and selling used cars at the Ford dealership.
“You know, smoking speeds up your metabolism,” the other kid said. “Might get rid of some of that blubber.”
“Would you two shut the hell up?” the oldest kid snapped. “I’ve got a headache, and I’m sick of listening to you. Besides, he ain’t messing with nobody.”
Josh saw the bus in the distance. He hated school. Sleep was really the only thing he liked these days. As long as he was asleep he didn’t have to think about how screwed up his life had become.
Sleep made him feel invisible.
SAM BREWER SHOOK HIS head sadly as he and one of his crew took a tour of Blessing Home. “It would be easier to tear this place down and start from scratch,” the man said.
Sam nodded. “I don’t know how they managed to pass inspection all these years. The wiring is so old it’s a wonder the place hasn’t burned to the ground. And the plumbing is prehistoric.” He shook his head. “God only knows what’s holding up the roof. The house is not structurally sound.”
The other man scratched his jaw. “Needs a lot of work, that’s for sure. No telling how much it’d cost.”
Sam sighed. He had so many jobs going on he had no idea where he’d find the time. He should never have offered to look at the place and get Marilee’s hopes up, because Blessing Home looked like a lost cause, as far as he was concerned.
The last thing he needed was something else to worry about.
RUBY, CLARA AND WINNIE WERE waiting for Marilee when she arrived home. A large pizza sat on the kitchen table, and Winnie was putting out napkins and paper plates. “Congratulations on the new job, honey,” Ruby said, hugging Marilee.
Marilee looked surprised. “How’d you know I was hired?”
“News travels quickly in this town,” Clara said.
“That’s for sure,” Winnie muttered. “Can’t take a leak in this town without everybody knowing about it.” She eyed Marilee and propped her hands on her hips. “You look upset.”
Marilee sighed. “I just left my attorney’s office. I had to hand over six thousand dollars.”
“For a simple divorce?” Ruby shrieked. “Hell’s bells, I got one of those ninety-nine-dollar divorces. You see them all the time in the newspaper.”
Marilee explained why she’d paid so much. “I had to do it. For Josh.”
“Is anyone going to have some of this pizza?” Winnie asked. “I’m starving. I have to think of the baby, you know.” She offered the box, and the women took a slice.
“Josh’ll come around, honey,” Ruby said. “He’s just angry right now, and what child wouldn’t be. Divorce is hard on kids.”
Clara pursed her lips. “But six thousand dollars! That’s highway robbery, if you ask me. Did you wipe out your entire savings account?”
Marilee shook her head. “There’s still some left, but I withdrew it and moved it to my checking account so Grady can’t get to it. I have the money my parents left, but I’m determined not to touch it. That’s for Josh’s education.” She shrugged. “I’m going to have to find a night job, at least until Josh moves in, so I can try to replace the money in case of an emergency.”
“Who’s going clean this place and cook while you work day and night?” Winnie demanded. “I hope you don’t expect me to take care of everything. This is stressing me out. That’s why I hate getting involved with people who have more problems than me.”
“I picked up a newspaper after I left Tate’s office,” Marilee said, ignoring Winnie’s remark. “I just scanned it, but I think I may have found something I can do in the evenings.”
“What’d you find, honey?” Ruby asked.
“They need someone to play the piano at the Pickford Inn.”
“What?” Clara cried. “You’re not going to work in a nightclub? Oh, Marilee, you can’t be serious.”
“It’s a supper club,” Ruby said. “Very upscale.”
Clara pursed her lips. “You may call it what you like, but they still serve alcohol.”
“One drink before dinner never hurt anyone,” Ruby said.
Clara looked at her. “This coming from a woman who has a distillery under the front seat of her truck.” She gave a harrumph. “Marilee, you simply cannot do this. What are folks going to say when they find out you’re playing piano in a bar? You know they’ll go straight to Grady, and he’ll do anything he can to make you look bad in front of that child advocate. This could definitely work against you.”
Marilee shoved her plate aside. She had not thought of that. Would the child advocate hold it against her if she took a job in a supper club? She doubted it. But if Grady found out, he’d try to make her look as bad as he could, in order to make himself look good. “Pickford is thirty miles away,” she said, thinking out loud. “I wouldn’t think I’d run into anyone from Chickpea.”
Clara didn’t look convinced. “You’re still taking a chance.”
“I need the money, Clara.”
“You could wear a disguise,” Ruby said. “I can fix you up so that your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. That way you won’t have to worry about any of the town gossips recognizing you. When do you plan to go for the interview?”
“Tonight. I want to get a jump-start on the other applicants.”
“I’ll run home and grab my supplies after I eat.”
“Are you not going to eat your pizza?” Winnie asked Marilee.
“And you plan to work at the funeral home too?” Clara asked.
Marilee nodded. “I plan to do whatever’s necessary to get Josh back.”
“If you’re not going to eat your pizza, I will,” Winnie said, reaching for the untouched slice.
Clara sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out a small metal cylinder. “I know how you are when you make up your mind, so I’m not going to try and talk you out of it. But I’d feel better if you’d keep this pepper spray on you in case something unforeseen occurs.”
“I don’t have the job yet,” Marilee said, “and I wish you’d stop worrying. The Pickford is not a sleazy beer joint.”
“Oh, you’ll get the job,” Ruby assured her. “I don’t know a single soul who can sing and play the piano as well as you.”
“Take the pepper spray, Marilee.”
“Thank you, Clara,” she said, touched by her concern. “I know this is hard for you to accept. None of us ever suspected my life would take such a turn. I mean, Grady was a good minister. He genuinely cared about his congregation. And I just assumed all marriages had problems now and then, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I have to do what I have to do. It’s just…well, I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.”
“Oh, Lord, she’s going to start crying again,” Winnie said.
Marilee shook her head. “I’m finished crying. I have too much to do to sit around and feel sorry for myself.”
Ruby patted her hand. “Good for you, honey. You’re stronger than you think.”
Winnie shook her head sadly. “It’s not going to be that easy. You’re going to need someone to look after you, make sure you eat regular meals and have clean clothes to wear. I guess I’m going to have to hang around awhile longer. At least until you get used to working all those hours.”
“That’s very kind of you, Winnie,” Clara said. “Ruby and I will help too.”
Ruby nodded emphatically. “Darn right we will.”
“Thank you,” Marilee said. “I don’t know what I would do without the three of you.”
“You’d probably do okay,” Winnie said. “You’re not as weak as I thought in the beginning.”
Marilee decided that was the closest Winnie would come to giving her a compliment. She pushed her chair from the table. “I need to practice a few songs on the piano,” she said. “I’m sure it’s dreadfully out of tune, but at least it’ll help limber up my fingers.”
Ruby stood. “And I need to run home and pick up a few supplies. For your disguise,” she added, winking conspiratorially.
“Who’s going to clean up this mess?” Winnie demanded.
“I’ll do it,” Clara volunteered.
Winnie shook her head. “Never mind, I’ll do it. You don’t know where anything goes, and I can’t have you putting stuff in the wrong place, especially after I’ve cleaned the refrigerator and organized the cabinets.”
MARILEE WAS PRACTICING ON the old piano when Ruby returned carrying a short, platinum-colored wig, a small suitcase and a flaming-red dress. “Belonged to my ex-roommate,” she said, holding the slinky outfit up for inspection. “The poor girl was a perfect size eight till her boyfriend dumped her, and she decided to eat her way through her depression. I think she was a size fourteen when she climbed on the Greyhound bus for home. Said I could do what I wanted with her clothes.”
“I wear a size ten,” Marilee said.
“That was before Grady ran off, honey. You’ve probably dropped ten pounds and don’t know it. Besides, if the dress is a little snug that’ll work in your favor. Now, sit down. I’m about to make a new woman out of you.”
Clara and Winnie sat down as well and watched while Ruby worked her magic. When she was finished Marilee, who had never been heavy-handed with her makeup, couldn’t believe the difference.
“Wow,” Winnie said. “You look like a movie star. If I’d looked that good when I told my old man I was pregnant, maybe he wouldn’t have walked out on me.”
Clara didn’t look pleased. “I think it’s a bit much. Remember, less is more.”
“She’s going to be working under dim lighting,” Ruby said. “So what do you think, honey?”
“You did a fine job, Ruby. But I’ll never be able to learn how to do all this.”
“I’ll teach you. In the meantime, I’ll plan to drop by after work each day so I can fix you up.” She began pinning up Marilee’s hair, and then put the wig in place. “What d’you think?” she said.
Winnie gave Ruby the thumbs-up. “Lookin’ good.”
“Marilee is a beautiful woman. All I did was enhance her features. Now, let’s get you into that dress.” She grabbed the garment and ushered Marilee into her bedroom. When they returned, Marilee’s cheeks were stained the color of the dress.
Winnie’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “That thing clings to you like a second skin. I didn’t realize you had such a nice figure. You have to stop dressing like a librarian.” Clara cleared her throat. Winnie looked at her. “Guess I shouldn’t have said that, huh?”
Marilee tried not to take offense. “I think my clothes are fashionable.”
“A little on the prim side,” Winnie said, “but hey, I’m not exactly on the cutting edge of fashion.”
Ruby preened over her handiwork. “I’ll bring over a few more dresses tomorrow night.”
“Just keep that pepper spray handy,” Clara said, “in case some man loses control of his desires the minute he sees you.”
Marilee walked them to the front door. Once they were on their way, she closed the door and leaned against it. Her stomach was tied in knots at the thought of what she was about to do. Perhaps it was time she took a few chances in life.
The doorbell rang, startling her. Marilee figured Ruby must’ve forgotten some of her supplies. She opened the door and found Sam Brewer standing there.
“Marilee, is that you?” he asked, blinking several times.
She’d forgotten for a moment how she was dressed. She blushed. “Hello, Sam.”
“You look…different.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” she said, patting the wig self-consciously. “I’m sort of in a hurry. Is there something I can do for you?”
He handed her the iron. “I wanted to return this. I found mine.” He remained standing there. He knew he was staring—gawking, actually—but he couldn’t help himself.
“Thank you.” He continued to stand there. “Anything else?”
“Huh?” With some difficulty, Sam managed to pry his eyes from the red dress that clung to her figure so well. Damn, but she looked good. “Oh, yeah. I stopped by Blessing Home today. I have to tell you, Marilee, it needs a lot of work. The place looks like it’s ready to collapse.”
“But it can be repaired, right?”
“We’re talking a lot of money.”
“Will three thousand dollars cover it?”
He shook his head, hoping to clear his brain. All the blood had obviously rushed to another part of his body. “It won’t even come close. There’s structural damage.”
Marilee sighed. “We’ll have to come up with more money. Can you at least start working on the roof?” she asked, wishing he had chosen another time to burden her with the news. She had enough to worrying about at the moment.
“I’m kind of backed up on my other jobs, so I’ll have to do it in my spare time.”
She was beginning to wonder if the girls would ever be able to move back into the home. “Thank you, Sam, that’s very thoughtful of you. I know you’ll do your best. Send me an invoice for the roof, and I’ll get our treasurer to write you a check right away.”
As she watched him go, she wondered where on earth they would find the money to do all the work that was needed. But she couldn’t worry about that now.
She had an audition.
CHAPTER SIX
PICKFORD WAS TWICE THE SIZE of Chickpea and boasted a medium-size mall, which was the only reason Marilee had visited the town in the past. She drove Josh there to shop for school clothes once a year, and she returned in December for Christmas gifts. As soon as she arrived, she stopped at a convenience store and asked for directions to the address listed in the newspaper.
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Charlotte Hughes
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Marilee Abernathy′s life is a mess. Everyone in Chickpea, South Carolina, knows about her husband′s affair with the town floozy.But when her dignified farewell–complete with pearls and impeccably applied Mary Kay cosmetics–turns into a spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to hang herself from a fake ceiling beam, Marilee figures there has to be a better way to cope.Marilee needs a new attitude–at least, that′s what her neighbor Sam Brewer thinks. Between his demanding mother and his crazy ex-wife, though, the last thing he wants is another woman whose life is out of control. But Marilee′s learning on her own that a little attitude can go a long way–suddenly she′s taking charge and taking chances she′d never imagined. And watching her blossom reminds Sam of some long-forgotten dreams of his own. Now he′s just got to convince her to turn some of that attitude his way….