Read Online Olive Oil and White Bread by Georgia Beers - Free Book Online Page B

make love to you under these skylights.”
    Angie cuddled close and pulled the comforter over them.
    They fell asleep.

Six
    â€œIt just makes me crazy. I’ve been waiting for more than two years.” Jillian set her glass down on her mother’s kitchen table with a thud.
    â€œAt least you were able to get a teaching job right out of school,” her mother, Liz, said, sipping from her china coffee cup. “A lot of people are out of work.”
    Jillian sighed. “I know, Mom. That’s not my point.”
    â€œI know what your point is. I’m just saying, you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
    â€œI’m not.” Jillian stopped herself, feeling her frustration build and her voice rise. She mentally counted to five. “I’m just saying they promised me first shot at a high school opening, and then they hired somebody else. From outside.”
    â€œWhat does that mean, anyway?” Ted Clark stood at the butcher-block kitchen counter and refilled his own cup with the remainder of the coffee from the pot. “What the hell is a gift horse exactly? Have you ever seen one? I haven’t.”
    Jillian smiled. It was just like her father to try to allay any tension that cropped up between her and her mother. A full-time job for him, she was sure.
    He kissed the top of Jillian’s blonde head as he sat down at the head of the table. “Don’t you like teaching the little ones?” he asked.
    â€œActually I do. Sometimes, it’s fun. I just wanted something else, you know? I thought I’d be doing that by now.”
    â€œWell, if you get fed up, I can always teach you the ins and outs of real estate.” Her father ran his own real estate company and had done quite well for himself. So when her brother, Brian, was laid offfrom his job at a local advertising firm, he had joined the company and gotten his real estate license.
    â€œI know, Dad. Thanks, but I think one Clark kid is more than enough for you to handle. Two of us in your office would drive you over the edge.”
    â€œYour brother has been doing very well there. Hasn’t he, Ted?”
    â€œI’m sure he has,” Jillian said before her father was dragged in. “I was just kidding.”
    â€œHow’s the house coming along?” Ted asked.
    Jillian appreciated his attempt to change the subject, though his choice of topics didn’t help with the tension. She dove in anyway. “It’s great. We’ve done a lot in the past month. Painting and unpacking and arranging furniture. Then rearranging the furniture.” With a chuckle, she turned to her mother. “Just like you used to do when we were little. Remember how often you rearranged the living room?”
    Liz nodded, tight-lipped, and sipped from her cup.
    â€œI’d love for you guys to come and see it.” Unable to stand the fact that her mother wouldn’t look her in the eye, Jillian turned to her father. “Maybe you could take a look at the furnace, Dad? It makes a weird sound, and we’d love to save the money a service call will cost if we can.”
    â€œSure, sweetheart. I’ll give you a call this weekend.”
    An uncomfortable silence hung around them, but Jillian was determined not to let it pull her down. Part of her wanted to ask her mother, point blank, when she was coming over. She wanted to tell her that Angie’s mother had been to the house every weekend since they’d moved in to help unpack things, arrange cupboards, hang curtains. She wanted to yell, to cry, to show her mother that she was hurt by the obvious lack of interest.
    Instead, she stood and took her glass into the kitchen. “Okay. Time for me to head out.”
    â€œYou don’t want to stay for dinner?” Liz’s expression said she’d simply expected Jillian would.
    â€œOh, I’d love to, Mom, but Angie’s making her famous lasagna. It’s to die