In Name Only (Pine Falls #2) - Jennifer Peel Page 0,33
John was a different person twenty years ago. But he was already in politics by then, and I wasn’t sure there was anyone in office with a completely clear conscience. Not even poor Brant, for as good as he was, would have one. He was marrying a woman he didn’t love, all because of the game. And his father.
“Wow,” was all I could say.
She ran a hand through her hair, which shone like she was still a younger woman. “We made some good memories in that diner. Even though, admittedly, I was kind of embarrassed at first. We were from two different worlds.”
I swallowed hard. “I can relate.”
She patted my leg. “I know you can. We are kindred spirits. But please remember never to base your worth on what anyone tells you or thinks of you. I had to learn that lesson the hard way over many years of being scrutinized.”
“By whom?”
“Oh, you name it. His business associates and their wives. His parents. Unfortunately, even my own friends and extended family, who thought I had gotten too big for my britches. All I was trying to do was follow my heart and be with the man I loved. The man who not once made me feel undeserving of him or ashamed for how poor I was. Yet, it didn’t matter how good John had been to me—I felt lost for a long time until I finally realized it was okay for people to be wrong about me. As long as I knew I was doing my best, that was all that really mattered.”
We were kindred spirits. I’d had to come to terms with those same demons after Grandma and Grandpa had adopted me. I’d had to lose the attitude that I was inferior because of the circumstances I had been born into. I’d had to learn that it wasn’t my fault and it didn’t make me less of a person. When I’d come to terms with that and realized I didn’t have to be a product of my circumstances, it was life changing. It actually allowed me to befriend people like Brock and Brant. Yet, living in their world wasn’t as easy. It wasn’t because I felt inferior—it was because I felt helpless. And guilty. Guilty for hurting those I loved and guilty for living amid so much extravagance. Everything I wore and drove reminded me of what good that money could do to help the children I worked with. This jet alone would sustain my foundation for decades.
“So did John come in and sweep you off your feet?”
She looked back at him for a moment and shook her head in a reminiscent sort of way before turning back toward me. “Not quite. I mean, I was taken with him. But I was smart enough to know that rich young men didn’t typically date waitresses who couldn’t even afford to attend community college. I was very cautious at first. And so nervous. My hand was shaking so bad the first time I served him a cup of coffee that I dropped the pot right in front of him. It shattered, and coffee went everywhere, including all over his suit pants and leather shoes. I was so embarrassed, but John just smiled and helped me clean it up.”
Who was this John she spoke of? It certainly wasn’t the man who threatened me. I sat there astonished as I listened to her recount the year they’d dated. How he had driven over five hundred miles to see her almost every weekend, even if it only meant he could sit in the diner while she worked and talk to her when she went on break. By all accounts, he was patient and tender. He’d taken her on picnics and taught her how to dance. It made me want to know him. I wondered what had happened to him in the past forty years to make him the calculating manipulator he was today.
While I was caught up in Sheridan’s story, Brock appeared before us.
Sheridan beamed up at him. “Can we help you?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was wondering if I could trade you places?”
Sheridan couldn’t smile any wider. “Of course you can sit by your bride.”
I really wished she wouldn’t call me that. And I kind of wished she would stay. I felt safe around Sheridan. I appreciated the way she had opened up to me. It helped me connect with her. And Brock probably only wanted to sit by me