Read Online Emerald Windows by Terri Blackstock - Free Book Online
Authors: Terri Blackstock
Ads: Link
fast-food restaurant and choked down a hamburger in Brooke’s car, where they were removed from the stares and gossip they might have encountered inside. Then, feeling refreshed, they braved curious eyes once again and closed themselves back in the office.
By the time they called it a day, the construction crews had left, and all of the women of the Historical Society were safely at home, no doubt lighting up half the telephone lines in Hayden. Still, Brooke felt a sense of accomplishment, a tingling pride that they were on the verge of creating something wonderful.
But when she drove home, that sense of pride sank as she realized that she had yet to face her family. She wascertain they’d heard—from someone, if not Roxy—how she had told off Mrs. Hemphill and defied all the town gossips by staying and working with Nick on the windows. And she was right. When she walked in, she saw them all sitting soberly in the living room, still as statues, staring at her as if their silence automatically demanded explanation. Her mother faced her with a hurt, how-could-you-do-this-to-me look, her father wore his stoic that’s-gratitude-for-you visage, and Roxy regarded her with a martyred why-don’t-you-just-shoot-me-and-put-me-out-of-my-misery expression.
Brooke ignored her emotional pain and told herself to make her explanation cut and dried, hoping to avoid the tears and yelling and scars that never quite healed. She remembered the time her grandmother had died, and her parents had gathered her and Roxy into the living room to break the solemn news. Would her family view this moment as seriously as a death in the family?
“I thought of going straight to a hotel, since I had my suitcase with me,” Brooke said, her voice raspy with emotion. “But I decided that I should at least come by and let you hear from my mouth that I’m staying—and I
am
going to be working with Nick on the windows. My work here shouldn’t affect any of you. I’ll find my own apartment tomorrow, and you won’t even have to know I’m in town.”
She swallowed and saw that none of them, neither her mother, nor her father, nor Roxy, was about to speak. Their expressions remained unchanged. Heartsick, she started slowly toward the door. Just before opening it, she turned back to them. Tears blurred her vision, and her mouth quivered. The words wobbled with emotion. “I’m truly sorry that my being here embarrasses all of you. But this town has taken enough from me. It owes me this chance to make my mark. And I’m going to do it.”
She opened the door and started to walk out.
“Are you going to move in with that man?” Her mother’s question stopped her before she’d crossed the threshold.
Brooke turned back to her mother, hardly believing what she’d heard. “No, I am not moving in with Nick. I told you, there is nothing going on between us.”
“Then why would you sacrifice all of your dignity, all of the integrity you’ve worked so hard to rebuild in the last seven years, if he doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“Because I’m an artist!” Brooke cried. “A good one. I’ve never had the opportunity to create anything of this magnitude!”
“Oh, you created something of this magnitude,” her mother said. “About seven years ago.”
Frustrated beyond control, Brooke pressed her forehead against the edge of the open door and wiped the tears roughly from her face. After a moment she looked at Roxy but found that her sister wasn’t glaring at her any longer. Instead she stared despondently at the floor, as if Brooke’s very presence exhausted her.
“Look, there’s really no point in this,” Brooke said as new tears rolled down her face. “I’ll never be able to make you believe me. You didn’t believe that nothing happened the first time, so why should you believe me now?”
“Because both of you are single and attractive,” her father blurted. “And you have a history.”
“So what?” she asked. “We’re
By the time they called it a day, the construction crews had left, and all of the women of the Historical Society were safely at home, no doubt lighting up half the telephone lines in Hayden. Still, Brooke felt a sense of accomplishment, a tingling pride that they were on the verge of creating something wonderful.
But when she drove home, that sense of pride sank as she realized that she had yet to face her family. She wascertain they’d heard—from someone, if not Roxy—how she had told off Mrs. Hemphill and defied all the town gossips by staying and working with Nick on the windows. And she was right. When she walked in, she saw them all sitting soberly in the living room, still as statues, staring at her as if their silence automatically demanded explanation. Her mother faced her with a hurt, how-could-you-do-this-to-me look, her father wore his stoic that’s-gratitude-for-you visage, and Roxy regarded her with a martyred why-don’t-you-just-shoot-me-and-put-me-out-of-my-misery expression.
Brooke ignored her emotional pain and told herself to make her explanation cut and dried, hoping to avoid the tears and yelling and scars that never quite healed. She remembered the time her grandmother had died, and her parents had gathered her and Roxy into the living room to break the solemn news. Would her family view this moment as seriously as a death in the family?
“I thought of going straight to a hotel, since I had my suitcase with me,” Brooke said, her voice raspy with emotion. “But I decided that I should at least come by and let you hear from my mouth that I’m staying—and I
am
going to be working with Nick on the windows. My work here shouldn’t affect any of you. I’ll find my own apartment tomorrow, and you won’t even have to know I’m in town.”
She swallowed and saw that none of them, neither her mother, nor her father, nor Roxy, was about to speak. Their expressions remained unchanged. Heartsick, she started slowly toward the door. Just before opening it, she turned back to them. Tears blurred her vision, and her mouth quivered. The words wobbled with emotion. “I’m truly sorry that my being here embarrasses all of you. But this town has taken enough from me. It owes me this chance to make my mark. And I’m going to do it.”
She opened the door and started to walk out.
“Are you going to move in with that man?” Her mother’s question stopped her before she’d crossed the threshold.
Brooke turned back to her mother, hardly believing what she’d heard. “No, I am not moving in with Nick. I told you, there is nothing going on between us.”
“Then why would you sacrifice all of your dignity, all of the integrity you’ve worked so hard to rebuild in the last seven years, if he doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“Because I’m an artist!” Brooke cried. “A good one. I’ve never had the opportunity to create anything of this magnitude!”
“Oh, you created something of this magnitude,” her mother said. “About seven years ago.”
Frustrated beyond control, Brooke pressed her forehead against the edge of the open door and wiped the tears roughly from her face. After a moment she looked at Roxy but found that her sister wasn’t glaring at her any longer. Instead she stared despondently at the floor, as if Brooke’s very presence exhausted her.
“Look, there’s really no point in this,” Brooke said as new tears rolled down her face. “I’ll never be able to make you believe me. You didn’t believe that nothing happened the first time, so why should you believe me now?”
“Because both of you are single and attractive,” her father blurted. “And you have a history.”
“So what?” she asked. “We’re
Similar Books
