For the Girls' Sake - By Janice Kay Johnson Page 0,45
their tête-à-tête.
"Good idea." She sounded as repulsively chirpy as a morning talk show host. "I’m in the middle of a book I’m enjoying. Here, just let me rinse this plate off..."
"I’ll finish cleaning up." His tone allowed no argument. In the confines of the kitchen, his sheer size unnerved her. Except for the three years with Brian, she had never lived with a man, much less one as large and imposing as Adam Landry.
Murmuring disjointed thank-yous and good-nights, Lynn fled. Somehow, she feared, she’d blown this conversation, either disgusting him or boring him, she didn’t know which. What had possessed her to go on and on about her marriage? Why not just say, Brian was the jealous type and I could never satisfy him? Why admit that her ex-husband’s suspicions had been right? Why bare her soul and confess her sense of inadequacy? And this to a daunting man who held a power near to life and death over her?
She peeked in at the girls and saw that Rose had scooted over to cuddle with Shelly. Both heads shared a single pillow. Tears stung her eyes at the sight of her two daughters, as close as the sisters they weren’t. Lynn went on to the bathroom and brushed her teeth with unnecessary force. In the guest room, she stripped quickly and pulled her nightgown over her head. Even between flannel sheets with a comforter pulled high, she felt cold.
And lonely, although she and Shelly wouldn’t drive away until tomorrow afternoon.
* * *
"MERRY CHRISTMAS, HONEY." Lynn’s mother heaped the last wrapped gift under the small Douglas fir that just fit in the corner by the window. Downstairs in the bookstore was another, more elegantly decorated tree, a Noble fir wrapped in gold and mauve. This one had tiny lights, a string of popcorn and handmade ornaments interspersed with a few red and green glass balls. Because Shelly had helped trim the tree, the ornaments were clustered where a three-year-old could most easily reach, but Lynn didn’t care.
"I’m so glad you’re here." She sat at one end of the couch and curled her feet under her, contentedly watching her mother. She began a wistful "I wish..." before thinking better of it.
But mothers had a way of finishing sentences. "Rose was here, too?"
Yes. Oh, yes, her heart cried. She said only, "I’d like you to meet her."
Irene Miller had her daughter’s hair without the red highlights, in her case cut short into a curly cap shot with a few gray hairs she ignored. A little plump, she was a placid, quiet woman who had seemed satisfied with her life as a single mother and secretary when Lynn was growing up. Lynn didn’t remember her ever even dating, so it had been a shock when she called, during Lynn’s sophomore year at the University of Oregon, to announce that she was engaged to be married. Hal Miller had been a guest lecturer at the university where she was a departmental secretary.
"He absolutely insisted I have dinner with him," she had said with a breathless laugh, as though still surprised at either his determination or her own willingness to be swept away, Lynn never knew which. "We’ve seen each other often since then."
Lynn had grown very fond of her stepfather, who had insisted this afternoon that Shelly was going to take him to the beach. He had winked conspiratorially over her head; today was Christmas Eve, and Shelly was beside herself with excitement. Wasn’t Grandma going to put presents under the tree? she’d asked twenty or thirty times. Mama had promised she could open one this evening. When could she open it? Now?
But she was young enough to be diverted, and the two had gone off very happily into a misty, chilly day, both so bundled up they looked as if they were heading for the Arctic.
Hearing other mothers whining about how their husbands never took over the child care and gave them a break, Lynn usually wondered why they wanted one. She enjoyed Shelly’s company. Shelly’s naps gave her a little time to herself. When she absolutely had to run errands without her daughter, baby-sitting was available. But she had to admit, in the week since her mother and stepfather had arrived, she was discovering how nice it was to have someone else cheerfully offer to go to the grocery store, whip up dinner or take Shelly away for an hour here or there. She could get spoiled.