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Authors: Jeanne Grant
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let it happen.”
“I am relaxed, thank you, but I—”
“Brittany,” her mother hissed scoldingly.
Bett sighed.
The reverend’s eyes focused dead behind her on Zach for one long, level moment before they closed. “A living, loving spirit,” said the low seductive undertone. “Someone from your past. A lover? Yes, I think a past lover, Mrs. Monroe…”
Bett stiffened as if she’d been doused with ice water. What else had her mother told the reverend in those phone calls? And actually, Elizabeth couldn’t have known that Bett had lost her virginity to Zach when she was nineteen.…
“A long time ago…before you were married, for certain…. well, this marriage…it’s one of the strongest auras I’ve ever felt, Mrs. Monroe. It’s a man—I’m trying to picture him—a very tall, very handsome young man. The two of you were so very young, so very much in love, so very eager to explore all the meanings of love together. I see long, blissful nights of passion. I see him taking you in his arms that first time—”
Zach’s chair scraped behind her. Her right hand was plucked from the reverend’s grasp, then her left one. “Thank, so much, Rev,” Zach said crisply. “We’re leaving now.”
Bett considered mentioning that Andrew had hardly been “very tall” and that the reverend certainly had enough creative imagination to sell swampland in Arizona. After one glance at Zach’s face, though, she decided it just wasn’t the right time.
Chapter 5
“A lot of nonsense, really,” Elizabeth said virtuously. “I knew that ahead of time. You don’t think I didn’t?”
“Of course you did,” Bett agreed.
“You think I needed some stranger to tell me your father loved me?”
“No, Mom,” Bett agreed.
“And what a shyster he was, with all that business implying you weren’t a virgin when you married. Honestly, Brittany! I remember now that he asked me on the phone all about the family, and maybe I even mentioned Andrew’s name, heaven knows why. I know I can get to talking on occasion…but I certainly never would have intimated such a thing. I know perfectly well you were a good girl when you married Zach…”
Bett removed her tongue from her cheek long enough to reply, “Yes, Mom.” The last one in, she closed the front door and dropped her purse and sweater on the couch. Zach was already heading upstairs. He had barely said a word the entire drive home, not that he wasn’t exhausted. After working a twelve-hour day, he’d needed that ridiculous outing like a hole in the head. It was after midnight, and no wonder he was a bit…taciturn.
It undoubtedly had nothing at all to do with that slight oversensitivity he’d always had on the subject of one Andrew Alexander.
“Brittany, wouldn’t you like to have a cup of tea with me before we go to sleep?” Elizabeth paused hopefully in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Honestly, not tonight.” Bett gave her mother a hug and a smile. “I’m really bushed, and the alarm will be ringing at five-thirty.”
“Maybe I should go to bed then, too,” Elizabeth said absently.
“Good idea.”
“Is it supposed to be nice tomorrow? I didn’t hear a weather report after dinner.”
Bett put one foot on the stairs. “Good night, Mom.” One could get drawn into these rambling conversations for an endless period of time. Elizabeth could discuss for up to an hour whether or not she wanted to go to bed. Bett understood; night was the loneliest time, the time when Elizabeth missed her husband most, the time when she needed someone close to her. Tonight, though, she was stuck with a daughter who felt somewhere between old-rag tired and porcupine edgy.
“Maybe I should work on one of the afghans for a while. If I don’t get started, they’ll never get done.” Elizabeth peered up at her daughter at the top of the stairs.
Bett turned the corner out of sight, that slight prick of guilt gnawing inside the way it always gnawed when she
“I am relaxed, thank you, but I—”
“Brittany,” her mother hissed scoldingly.
Bett sighed.
The reverend’s eyes focused dead behind her on Zach for one long, level moment before they closed. “A living, loving spirit,” said the low seductive undertone. “Someone from your past. A lover? Yes, I think a past lover, Mrs. Monroe…”
Bett stiffened as if she’d been doused with ice water. What else had her mother told the reverend in those phone calls? And actually, Elizabeth couldn’t have known that Bett had lost her virginity to Zach when she was nineteen.…
“A long time ago…before you were married, for certain…. well, this marriage…it’s one of the strongest auras I’ve ever felt, Mrs. Monroe. It’s a man—I’m trying to picture him—a very tall, very handsome young man. The two of you were so very young, so very much in love, so very eager to explore all the meanings of love together. I see long, blissful nights of passion. I see him taking you in his arms that first time—”
Zach’s chair scraped behind her. Her right hand was plucked from the reverend’s grasp, then her left one. “Thank, so much, Rev,” Zach said crisply. “We’re leaving now.”
Bett considered mentioning that Andrew had hardly been “very tall” and that the reverend certainly had enough creative imagination to sell swampland in Arizona. After one glance at Zach’s face, though, she decided it just wasn’t the right time.
Chapter 5
“A lot of nonsense, really,” Elizabeth said virtuously. “I knew that ahead of time. You don’t think I didn’t?”
“Of course you did,” Bett agreed.
“You think I needed some stranger to tell me your father loved me?”
“No, Mom,” Bett agreed.
“And what a shyster he was, with all that business implying you weren’t a virgin when you married. Honestly, Brittany! I remember now that he asked me on the phone all about the family, and maybe I even mentioned Andrew’s name, heaven knows why. I know I can get to talking on occasion…but I certainly never would have intimated such a thing. I know perfectly well you were a good girl when you married Zach…”
Bett removed her tongue from her cheek long enough to reply, “Yes, Mom.” The last one in, she closed the front door and dropped her purse and sweater on the couch. Zach was already heading upstairs. He had barely said a word the entire drive home, not that he wasn’t exhausted. After working a twelve-hour day, he’d needed that ridiculous outing like a hole in the head. It was after midnight, and no wonder he was a bit…taciturn.
It undoubtedly had nothing at all to do with that slight oversensitivity he’d always had on the subject of one Andrew Alexander.
“Brittany, wouldn’t you like to have a cup of tea with me before we go to sleep?” Elizabeth paused hopefully in the doorway to the kitchen.
“Honestly, not tonight.” Bett gave her mother a hug and a smile. “I’m really bushed, and the alarm will be ringing at five-thirty.”
“Maybe I should go to bed then, too,” Elizabeth said absently.
“Good idea.”
“Is it supposed to be nice tomorrow? I didn’t hear a weather report after dinner.”
Bett put one foot on the stairs. “Good night, Mom.” One could get drawn into these rambling conversations for an endless period of time. Elizabeth could discuss for up to an hour whether or not she wanted to go to bed. Bett understood; night was the loneliest time, the time when Elizabeth missed her husband most, the time when she needed someone close to her. Tonight, though, she was stuck with a daughter who felt somewhere between old-rag tired and porcupine edgy.
“Maybe I should work on one of the afghans for a while. If I don’t get started, they’ll never get done.” Elizabeth peered up at her daughter at the top of the stairs.
Bett turned the corner out of sight, that slight prick of guilt gnawing inside the way it always gnawed when she
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