Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,104
to think he even remembered.
Uncle Jed explains, “Emmie and Faye have just moved back home and Emmie’s going to work on the new project with us. Isn’t that exciting?”
Zach clears his throat and attempts to nod, but looks more like a bird pecking at some crumbs. “Ah, yes? I guess.” He’s not selling his enthusiasm in the least. Then he asks, “Who’s Faye?”
“My little girl,” I answer, squaring my shoulders, ready to do battle, even if it is only for a judgmental lift of the eyebrows.
I might as well have said my pet giraffe considering how surprised he looks by this news. “You’re married?”
Uncle Jesse quickly says, “No, our little Emmie lost her fiancé to friendly fire in the Middle East.”
Say what? I look at him in complete shock. My daddy’s brother just puts his arm around me and continues to say, “It’s been what, a year now since Armand died? We’re all still so shaken up by it.”
I can’t seem to force any words out of my mouth. First of all, apparently my whole family knows about my infatuation with Armie Hammer. I only ever told my mama, but it seems the news has traveled. And secondly, my what?
Uncle Jed reads my mind or my expression and pipes in, “Your auntie Lee has gone ahead and told folks about him, honey. There’s no shame in having a precious baby with your fiancé. It’s not your fault he died before the wedding.”
My head starts whirring like the spin-cycle on a washing machine. So that’s how they’re playing it. I should have known they wouldn’t want a Frothingham bringing a bastard child home without an acceptable explanation. As mad as I am, I decide to perpetuate the lie, at least temporarily, until I decide how to play this long-term. Plus, I need the job.
I smile at Zach as though I’m forcing it through thick layers of sadness. “It was such a tragedy.”
“How long were you two together?” he asks.
I answer, “Three years,” at the same time Uncle Jed says, “Two years, if you can believe,” while Uncle Jesse contributes, “Just a year, but still it’s so hard.”
For crying out loud, if we’re going to lie, we should get out stories straight first. I try to make sense of this farce by saying, “We had our first date three years ago, got engaged two years ago, and he’s been gone for a year.” God rest his soul.
Zach looks at us in the same way I imagine he’d look at the Three Stooges after one of their ridiculous skits. Then he says, “I guess I’ll see you all at the warehouse tomorrow morning.” I swear he shoots me a dirty look on his way out the door.
As soon as he leaves, I turn on my uncles and demand, “What the heck was that all about?”
Chapter Four
Uncle Jed starts, “Honey, it was your auntie Lee’s idea. She thought it best. You know how the ladies at the club can get when anything out of the ordinary happens.”
Those club ladies are a menace. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been intimidated by their judgment. Part of me wishes I could just tattoo a big “Screw You” on my forehead and meet them for tea some afternoon. I could bring my poor fatherless child and discuss the benefits of nipple piercings. Not that mine are, mind you, I’m so boring I only have one hole in each ear, but still, if they’re gonna gossip so much, I might as well give them a reason.
“What do those club ladies have on you, Uncle Jed?” I demand. “You got some extra kids of your own out there they know about?”
“You watch your tongue, young lady,” Uncle Jed chokes out as Uncle Jesse snickers in the background.
Uncle Jed is the oldest brother at fifty-five, my daddy would have been fifty-two, Uncle Jesse is the family surprise at only forty-two.
Uncle Jed explains, “There’s just certain ways things are done here, and folks expect the ring before the baby, otherwise they assume you’re trash.”
I arch an eyebrow, and he continues, “Not that we think you’re trash, honey. Good lord, it’s not like any of us waited until we got married, we just didn’t have any accidents.”
Uncle Jesse jokes, “Or if we did, we took care of them.”
“This is not a conversation I wish to be having with either one of you,” I say primly, or as primly as an unwed mother can. “I’m here to talk about your job offer, not to hear any proselytizing about my personal life.”
“Who’s preaching?” Uncle Jesse asks. “Jed here was just explaining that the people of Creek Water live by certain rules, is all. Sure, they’re archaic and dried up, but being that we rely on this town for our income, we think it’s best if we play along and don’t stir the pot.”
“About the job …” I prompt.
“Right, about the job,” Uncle Jed helps change the topic. “We bought the old sewing machine factory down by the river a few months ago and we’ve got some big plans for it. We’re going to turn the ground floor into a restaurant, coffee place, gourmet food shop, and the like.”
Uncle Jesse says, “That’s how we got the idea to hire you. We thought with your experience in New York City, you’d bring some real class to the operation.”
“Are you planning to own all these businesses?” I ask, hoping the answer is no. If my uncles were to open a restaurant, they’d probably only serve fried pickles and jalapeño poppers.
“No, no, no,” Uncle Jed says. “We’re going to rent the space out to other businesses, but we thought we’d go ahead and own the gourmet shop, what with your expertise and all. What do you think?”
“Uncle Jed,” I start to say, but he waves me off with, “Girl, I feel like Buddy Ebsen every time you say that. Can we just disperse with the uncle nonsense already?”
“Who’s Buddy Ebsen?” I ask.
“Uncle Jed from The Beverly Hillbillies.”
Uncle Jesse adds, “And I’m not that much older than you, so you best start calling me Jesse.”
“I suppose if we’re going to be business partners that would be okay.”
Jed says, “Who said anything about partners? We just wanted to hire you on as our employee.”
“No, sir,” I say. “I’ve spent most of my life with this town thinking I was some kind of piglet sucking off the family tit. I’m not going to be anything less than your business partner on this venture.”
“On the whole building?” Jesse wants to know.
“If I’m managing the whole building, then yes.”
“But, girl,” Jed says, “you didn’t put up any of the capital.”
“But Jed,” I respond using his Christian name for the first time, “I’m the one with the know-how. Now do we have a deal or not?”
Jed looks at his brother and says, “This here girl’s done grown into her britches in the Big City.”
Jesse nods his head. “I’m okay with giving her ten percent.” Then he looks at me and says, “But that means you don’t get any money until we start making a profit on the project.”
“Fine by me,” I answer. “I’m going to live with Mama, and I have enough savings to cover Faye’s and my expenses for several months.” And let’s face it, living rent free, I might even be able to swing longer. I didn’t want to be unemployed in New York or I would have blown through my savings in a fraction of the time.
We shake on it and Uncle Jed declares, “Your daddy would be right proud of you, Emmie. I’m pretty proud of you myself.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Now, I need to get out of here ’cause I’m starting to leak all over my dress.”
Both of my uncles jump to their feet and don’t so much as look at me. They’re craning their heads upwards, pretending fascination with the tin ceiling. I think I’m going to enjoy being around them again. I just had to make sure I came home on equal footing. I’m not going to have any of the gossipy biddies in this town accusing me being a charity case, again. Heaven knows they’ll find enough to say about me without giving them that, too.
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