Wife for Hire - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,13
date two months ago.” She smiled a polite hello to Hank’s parents. “Excuse me,” she said to them, “but I bought a new dress for that dance.”
Hank hated dances and doubted he’d agreed to go to this one. Linda Sue had a tendency to ramble, and he had a tendency to tune her out. He suspected he’d missed an important part of a conversation with her. It was a good thing he was married, he thought. His social life had become too complicated.
Linda Sue pouted a little and looked at Hank under lowered eyelashes. “Maybe you can make it up to me.”
“I don’t think so,” Hank told her. “I got married last week.”
Linda Sue’s eyes snapped wide open. “Married?”
He gestured with a half-eaten biscuit. “This is my wife, Maggie….”
Linda Sue had her hands on her hips. “You were going to marry me!”
Hank pressed his lips together. “I never said I was going to marry you. You said I was going to marry you.”
“Would you like to join us for dinner?” Maggie asked. “We have lots of food.”
Linda Sue looked at the pot roast. “It smells good. What are you having for dessert?”
“Apple pie and vanilla ice cream.”
“Sure, I’ll stay.” She took a side chair and dragged it over to the table. “When Hank’s granny lived here, I used to stay for dinner all the time. Hank’s granny always had an extra potato in the pot for company.”
Maggie set a place for Linda Sue. “Do you live near here?”
“I used to live just over the rise, down the road. My parents still live there.” She helped herself to some pot roast.
Maggie waited for Linda Sue to continue, or someone else to make conversation, but Linda Sue’s attention had been caught by the mashed potatoes and Hank’s parents were staring out the window. Finally Maggie couldn’t wait any longer. “Where do you live now?” she asked.
“I live in the Glenview apartments now. They’re outside of town, just off the interstate to Burlington.”
The doorbell rang again and Maggie excused herself to answer it.
“I’m Holly Brown,” the woman said when Maggie opened the door. “Is Hank here?”
“He’s in the dining room.”
Holly Brown walked into the dining room, gave a slanty-eyed look to Linda Sue Newcombe and a large, wet kiss to Hank. She smiled at his parents and said hello.
“I heard you’d gotten back in town,” Holly said to Hank. “Just thought I’d stop by to welcome you home.”
“Save it,” Linda Sue said. “He’s married.”
Holly gave a disbelieving snort. “Hank? Married?”
Maggie dragged out another set of dishes and silverware, making a place for Holly. “I’m Maggie,” she said. “We were married last week. You’ll stay for supper, won’t you?”
“Sure you have enough?”
“Plenty,” Maggie said. She knew it was ridiculous, but darned if she didn’t feel like a real wife. She was feeling possessive, and jealous, and cranky. She glared at Hank.
“Is there anyone else we should be expecting? Maybe I should cook up more potatoes.”
Holly Brown slung her purse over the back of her chair and sat down. “This marriage is awful sudden.”
Hank sliced his pot roast. “Maggie and I met last summer when I was at Rutgers.”
Holly and Linda Sue exchanged glances. They looked skeptical.
“Still seems sudden to me,” Holly repeated. “The entire female population of Skogen’s been after Hank for years,” she told Maggie. “He’s as slippery as they come. Nothing personal, but it seems a little odd that he’d go to New Jersey and come back married.”
“It was one of those things,” Maggie said. “Love at first sight.”
Holly poked around at the pot roast, looking for the end piece. “Honey, it’s always love at first sight with Hank. It’s never caused him to get married before.”
Linda Sue poured more gravy over her potatoes.
“This house sure holds memories,” Holly said. “When I was a little girl, my daddy worked for the coop and he’d come collect the milk from all the local dairy farms. Sometimes, in the summer, he’d let me ride with him. Hank’s granny always invited me in for cookies and lemonade. If Hank was here I’d stay and play Monopoly with him on the front porch. Then when he got older—” She stopped in midsentence, cleared her throat, and concentrated on slicing her meat.
Linda Sue, Hank’s mother, and Hank’s father also cleared their throats and became totally absorbed in the process of eating.
Maggie looked sideways at Hank.
“Vern’s dog ate my Monoploly set,” Hank explained.
Linda Sue tilted her head toward Hank. “Does Bubba know you’re married?”
“Not yet.” Hank reached for