Читать книгу Blossom Street - Debbie Macomber - Страница 19

JACQUELINE DONOVAN

Jacqueline checked her reflection in the hall mirror and sighed, praying for patience. Paul and Tammie Lee had invited her and Reese to their home for a barbecue. She couldn’t refuse; Paul would easily see through any excuse. Trapped, Jacqueline had no choice but to grit her teeth and make the best of it.

“Are you ready?” Reese asked for the third time.

Grumbling under her breath, Jacqueline joined him. He was jingling his car keys and pacing back and forth in front of the kitchen door that led to the garage.

“Can’t we get out of this?” she asked, knowing it was impossible.

Reese gave her one of his looks. He had several expressions that spoke as clearly as words, and over the years she’d come to identify them all. This one was the off-center humorless smile that conveyed his displeasure at something she’d said or done.

“What’s wrong this time?” she asked, fuming. “Don’t tell me you’re actually looking forward to this barbecue?” Heaven only knew what Tammie Lee might prepare for their dinner. Grilled possum? Barbecued squirrel?

“Don’t you see?” her husband said. “Paul wants us to get to know Tammie Lee and love her the way he does.”

Jacqueline shook her head in a gesture of denial and frustration. “It’s not going to happen, no matter how many barbecues he insists we attend.”

“The least you can do is give Tammie Lee a chance.”

Jacqueline was beginning to resent Reese’s attitude. Her husband was well aware of the importance of marrying the right person. He hadn’t chosen her because of her cute smile. Their parents were good friends, and she’d attended all the best schools and so had he. Yes, she’d loved Reese, but there was so much more to finding an appropriate marriage partner than love, which in her opinion was highly overrated, anyway.

She feared Paul was fast becoming like his father, with his brains situated somewhere below his waistline. Only Paul had married the girl. If he held genuine feelings for Tammie Lee, then her son should do as his father had and set her up someplace, visiting her once a week. Jacqueline didn’t know the extent of her husband’s monetary investment in his Tuesday-night woman, but she suspected it was substantial. She hadn’t checked his financial records after the first year, preferring not to learn the truth. His absence each Tuesday night told her all she needed to know.

They rode in silence to Paul and Tammie Lee’s house, a respectable two-story near Kirkland with a nice view of Lake Washington. Smoke spiraled from the backyard and Jacqueline suspected they’d already put on the meat. Good! The sooner this family gathering was over the better.

Reese rang the doorbell and together they stood on the steps and waited. Tammie Lee opened the door in bare feet, frayed jean shorts and a maternity top, looking like she’d stepped out of the 1960s television series Petticoat Junction.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she drawled, reaching for Jacqueline’s hands and practically dragging her into the house.

“Mom. Dad.” Paul was directly behind his wife. He shook hands with his father and briefly hugged Jacqueline.

Jacqueline didn’t mean to start the afternoon off on a negative note, but she didn’t think it was a good idea for Tammie Lee to be traipsing around the house barefoot. God knows what she could step on or where she might slip.

“I hesitate to mention this, but shouldn’t you be wearing shoes?” She’d asked out of genuine concern for the girl, but Jacqueline could see from the way Paul’s mouth thinned that he was annoyed with her.

“I know you’re right,” Tammie Lee said, leading everyone through the house and into the freshly mowed backyard. “Bless his heart, Paul keeps telling me the same thing, but I just can’t make myself wear shoes. I kick ‘em off the minute I walk in the door. Then last week I made the mistake of walking around the yard in my bare feet and I stepped on a slug.”

Jacqueline cringed.

“I started screaming like the Holy Spirit had come down upon me.”

Paul chuckled. “I’ve never run so fast in my life. I thought she’d been attacked by a swarm of bees or something.”

The patio table was already set and Tammie Lee held up two pitchers of iced tea. “Sweetened or unsweetened?” she asked.

In Jacqueline’s view, iced tea should be served only one way and that was unsweetened. Anyone who wanted to add sugar could do so at the time it was served.

“Unsweetened,” she said and took her place at the table.

“I’ll have the same,” Reese said.

Tammie Lee poured the tea and handed a glass to Jacqueline, who frowned at the green leaf floating on top. “There seems to be something in my tea,” she said, picking up her spoon to remove it.

“That’s a mint leaf,” Tammie Lee said. “My mama wouldn’t let me serve iced tea without fresh mint and lemon slices.”

Feeling like a fool, Jacqueline leaned back in her chair, determined not to say another word. Of course it was mint—she should’ve recognized it—but with Tammie Lee one never knew what to expect.

“This is very pleasant. It was nice of you to invite us over,” Reese said.

Jacqueline stared daggers at him. Nothing about this day was pleasant and he damn well knew it.

“Actually it was Tammie Lee’s idea,” Paul said, standing in front of the barbecue. To her relief, whatever he was cooking smelled divine. The meat sizzled and Paul coated it liberally with some garlicky kind of sauce.

“Yes,” Tammie Lee said, returning to the patio with a notebook and pen. She pulled out a chair and sat down at the table with Jacqueline and Reese. She opened her notebook to a clean page. “I wanted to ask you about family traditions,” she said eagerly. “It’s just so important for Paul and me to start some family traditions, and I wanted to include yours as much as possible.”

“Traditions?” Jacqueline repeated as if she’d never heard the word before.

“Yes, you know. Like Derby Day?”

Jacqueline exchanged a quizzical look with her husband.

“The Kentucky Derby,” Tammie Lee explained, glancing from one to the other as if expecting them to smile and nod and exclaim “of course.”

“My daddy and all my uncles would wear their white suits and Panama hats, and Mama and my aunts would cook for days.”

“We don’t feel as strongly about the Kentucky Derby here in Seattle as your family does, sweetheart,” Paul said, joining them at the round patio table. He shared a smile with his father. “Tell her about Christmas, Mom.”

“Christmas,” Jacqueline repeated. “What about it?”

“How you used to hang my stockings on the fireplace mantel every Christmas Eve.”

“Yes, but I haven’t done that in years.”

“What about football?” Tammie Lee said excitedly. “Y’all enjoy football here, don’t you?” Her drawl had thickened as she grew more enthusiastic.

“Oh, yes.” It was Paul who answered this time. “Both Dad and I are Husky fans.”

“That’s wonderful! We’ll do tailgate parties. Mama says tailgate parties are a lot like church. All the women dress up in their Sunday best and cook up a tornado. Then we spend hours praying for a miracle.”

Both Paul and Reese laughed but Jacqueline didn’t see the humor in it. “Why would you pray?”

Tammie Lee grinned. “So our team would win.”

Jacqueline managed a tight smile.

As it turned out, the barbecue wasn’t as bad as Jacqueline had feared. She’d had visions of her daughter-in-law’s centerpiece being prepared by a taxidermist, but Tammie Lee had set out a lovely floral arrangement.

All in all, the afternoon was reasonably pleasant—to use Reese’s word—despite Jacqueline’s dire predictions. Dinner consisted of a delightful guacamole and blue corn chips, grilled brisket and potato salad, which was surprisingly good. The jalapeno cornbread was a bit spicy, but Jacqueline had a small piece. Reese raved about the meal, and Tammie Lee beamed with pleasure at his endless compliments. Now that she’d reduced her work hours, her daughter-in-law had time to lavish on meals to please her husband. As a young married woman, Jacqueline had done the same thing. These days, her interest in cooking was nil.

On the drive home, Reese and Jacqueline were silent. Most of the dinner conversation had revolved around family traditions. Apparently Tammie Lee’s family had quite a few, and she happily described each one in lengthy detail, frequently mentioning Aunt Thelma and Aunt Frieda, as well as “Mama” and “Daddy.” Jacqueline had begun to wonder if the girl was homesick.

Well, if she was, Tammie Lee could pack her bags and go visit her mama. With his wife out of the house, perhaps Paul would come to his senses.

“We didn’t have a lot of traditions with Paul, did we?” Reese said as they pulled out onto the freeway entrance.

“Of course we did,” she countered, although she’d been hard-pressed to think of any over dinner. “We made gingerbread houses with him every Christmas, remember?”

“Yes, but that was years ago, when he was a kid.”

“And there was always the Easter Egg hunt at the country club.”

“Yes, and Paul and I used to bring you breakfast in bed every Mother’s Day.”

“That’s right,” Jacqueline said, instantly feeling a sense of relief. She hadn’t failed completely as a mother. “Just because we didn’t dress up in those dreadful white seersucker suits and Panama hats to watch the Kentucky Derby doesn’t mean we didn’t have meaningful traditions with our son.”

Reese took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. “Do you remember the year Paul insisted on making you Eggs Benedict?”

“Oh, my goodness, it took Martha months to get the stovetop clean.”

“But you ate every bite. You were such a trouper,” Reese said. “I don’t think I ever loved you more than I did that day.”

Jacqueline’s smile faded as she stared out the passenger window. They had loved each other, and in their own ways, they still did. All this talk about traditions and family had stirred up the dust of bygone years, swirling a storm of happy memories in her direction. It was all a bit unsettling.

“I’m glad Paul and Tammie Lee want to start traditions with their daughter,” Reese said as they neared the house. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Jacqueline answered softly. She very much wanted that for her grandchild. She imagined a little girl, dark-haired like Paul, her small arms reaching up to Jacqueline. Tammie Lee might not be her first choice of a wife for her son, but Paul seemed happy. Soon he’d make her a grandmother. Yes, there were a few compensations to be found in this marriage.

Whatever the reason, Jacqueline felt better than she had in months. Perhaps Reese was right and she was being too hard on the girl.