The Sweetgum Ladies Knit for Love - By Beth Pattillo Page 0,66
packages would look perfect under their Christmas tree, with Kendall’s distinctive green foil wrap and gold bow.
“If you don’t mind waiting, they won’t take long.”
Eugenie nodded, signing her credit card slip with a flourish, and Alfred disappeared to the back of the store. Left alone, the temptation was too great. She gravitated toward the lingerie section like the moon pulled through its orbit by the earth. She edged toward a rack of beautiful gowns, silk and lace and satin in pale, sumptuous colors, and had just reached out to finger a sleeve when a voice behind her almost made her jump out of her shoes.
“There you are.”
Hazel Emerson. Eugenie swallowed a groan before she turned to greet her nemesis.
“Good afternoon, Hazel.” She forced herself to mold her face into a pleasant expression.
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied.” The other woman’s eyes narrowed with anger, and the lines around her mouth looked deep as ravines.
“I’m sorry?” Eugenie couldn’t imagine what Hazel meant. She’d done what the other woman had wanted, throwing herself into church life to prove herself and her faith to the congregation.
“You’re doing your best to ruin your husband, and now you’ve succeeded.”
Eugenie paused before she spoke, a habit that had served her well over the years. “Ruin my husband?” she finally asked, deciding she’d better seek clarification before she said anything that might actually harm Paul’s career.
“The pledge campaign was a disaster. Budget cuts right and left. We’ll be lucky if we can pay the light bill.”
Eugenie forced herself not to betray the slightest hint of surprise. She’d been aware that the budget wasn’t in great shape, but Paul hadn’t indicated that any imminent disaster loomed.
“Hazel, I doubt that matters are as dire—”
“He’s going to go part time! How much more dire could they be?”
“Part time?” At that, she couldn’t keep the surprise from showing on her face. “Where did you hear that?”
“My husband’s on the finance committee. Are you telling me you didn’t know?”
Eugenie gritted her teeth and shook her head. “Not about Paul cutting back on his hours.”
“Oh, I doubt very much he’ll cut back on his hours. Just on his pay.” Hazel shot her another dark look. “But since you have your own salary, why should you worry?”
Thankfully, at that moment Alfred Kendall reappeared with her beautifully wrapped packages. In light of Hazel’s bombshell, though, they didn’t excite her as much as they had only a few moments before.
“Here you are, Eugenie. Oh, hello, Hazel.” He nodded in greeting. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Thank you, Alfred.” Eugenie relieved him of the packages, eager to make a beeline for the door. “I’d better get back to the library.” She tossed a quick good-bye to Hazel over her shoulder and sped toward the entrance.
If Hazel Emerson had possessed this information for more than thirty minutes, then Eugenie could be sure everyone in Sweetgum already knew. Why hadn’t Paul told her that the budget difficulties hadn’t been resolved?
It was the first secret either of them had kept in their marriage. That scared Eugenie, almost as much as the fear that the budget troubles were her fault. She knew better than anyone the power of small-town gossip. She also knew as well as anyone that when it came to ministers, expectations were as high as they were unfair. She’d thought it would be enough, saying yes to everyone who asked for her help. What more could they want?
She hurried around the corner toward the library, wondering when Paul would tell her about his difficulty. And why he hadn’t already.
Hannah always looked forward to Saturdays, mostly because they didn’t involve going to school. When she was little, school had been something she liked because it allowed her to escape from her mother for a few hours each day. When she reached middle school, though, things changed. “Peer pressure,” adults liked to call it. “Social mutilation” was Hannah’s name for the torture that went on each day between eighty thirty and three o’clock. Freshman year hadn’t changed anything. She was still an outsider, and hanging out with Josh hadn’t brought her any newfound popularity—just more scorn from Courtney and her crowd.
Josh had a different lunch period than she did, so she only saw him for a few minutes before school, when everyone congregated on the steps waiting for the bell to ring. Sometimes they talked for a few brief moments after school before he had to be in the weight room for off-season conditioning.
Saturdays, though, as precious as they’d been—an escape