Read Online The Widow and the Wastrel by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online
Authors: Janet Dailey
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that she hadn't told Rebecca of Allan Marsden's invitation. She disliked bringing it up in front of Jed, but she knew her mother-in-law had a church meeting that evening and would be leaving directly after dinner.
"Amy and I will be out this Sunday afternoon, Rebecca," she said with false casualness. "We've been invited—"
"Oh, are we going to the farm with Uncle Jed?" Amy burst in excitedly.
"What farm is this?" Rebecca demanded, her dark eyes centering immediately on Elizabeth, her interest not nearly as vague as it was a moment ago.
Darting a poisonous look at Jed, who appeared immune to its sting, she replied firmly, "We aren't going to a farm. Amy and I have been invited on a picnic by Allan Marsden on Sunday."
Amy frowned across the table, disappointment starting to cloud her face. "Aren't we going to the farm?"
If it hadn't been for the distinct impression that Jed was deriving some sort of amused satisfaction from all this, Elizabeth's response would have been gentler.
"I just told you, Amy, that we're going for a picnic with Mr. Marsden."
"What is all this nonsense about a farm?" Rebecca inserted, looking pointedly at her son.
"I've been invited to have Sunday dinner with the Reisners." He nonchalantly buttered a hot crescent roll. "Kurt suggested that perhaps Elizabeth might like to join us and bring Amy, but of course, she had a previous invitation from Mr. Marsden and had to decline."
"I see," was his mother's clipped response.
"But I wanted to go to the farm," Amy declared with a defiantly pleading look.
"Well, I'm sorry, but we're going on the picnic." Even as she spoke, Elizabeth knew she was being insensitively cold to her daughter. She should be quietly explaining that they could go to the farm another time instead of making a coldly worded order. It was Jed's fault.
"I don't want to go on your stupid old picnic. The silverware in her daughter's hand was discarded angrily on to her plate, clanging loudly in accompaniment to her mutinous expression. "I want to go to the farm and see the animals. I don't want to go with you!"
"That will be enough, Amy," Elizabeth warned with firm softness.
"Maybe you can go another time," Jed inserted, a warm persuasive smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"I never get to do what I want." Her lower lip jutted out in a self-pitying pout, as Amy flashed a resentful glance at Elizabeth. "I always have to do what she wants!"
Elizabeth was angered that Jed should attempt to quiet her daughter's temper. If he had not mentioned the invitation to the farm to Amy in the first place, none of this arguing would have occurred. Wrongly she directed this anger at Amy instead of the man at her right who deserved it.
"You will stop this sarcasm at once, Amy," she ordered.
"I don't want to go on that picnic!" Tears began filling the brown eyes of her daughter.
"I think you'd better go to your room, Amy," Elizabeth tried to speak calmly and control her own growing temper. "When you can behave correctly at the table, you may return."
"No, I will not go to my room!" The stiffly held back tears made Amy's voice tremble.
Although Jed might have been the instigator of the quarrel, Elizabeth recognized that she had handled it very badly. Sending Amy to her room was probably unfair punishment, but the open rebellion of her daughter at the order made it imperative that she carry it out, regardless of the knife of remorse that stabbed her heart.
Flashing Jed a speaking glance, Elizabeth rose from her chair and walked round to the opposite side of the table where Amy sat. With a downcast chin, Amy pushed her own chair away from the table. A tear slid down a round cheek as Amy refused to look at her mother, letting her sense of injustice be known.
"Come along, Amy," Elizabeth said quietly. She touched the girl's shoulder with her hand and immediately Amy pulled away to walk rigidly toward the hall.
As Elizabeth turned to follow, she looked fully into Jed's bland expression.
"Amy and I will be out this Sunday afternoon, Rebecca," she said with false casualness. "We've been invited—"
"Oh, are we going to the farm with Uncle Jed?" Amy burst in excitedly.
"What farm is this?" Rebecca demanded, her dark eyes centering immediately on Elizabeth, her interest not nearly as vague as it was a moment ago.
Darting a poisonous look at Jed, who appeared immune to its sting, she replied firmly, "We aren't going to a farm. Amy and I have been invited on a picnic by Allan Marsden on Sunday."
Amy frowned across the table, disappointment starting to cloud her face. "Aren't we going to the farm?"
If it hadn't been for the distinct impression that Jed was deriving some sort of amused satisfaction from all this, Elizabeth's response would have been gentler.
"I just told you, Amy, that we're going for a picnic with Mr. Marsden."
"What is all this nonsense about a farm?" Rebecca inserted, looking pointedly at her son.
"I've been invited to have Sunday dinner with the Reisners." He nonchalantly buttered a hot crescent roll. "Kurt suggested that perhaps Elizabeth might like to join us and bring Amy, but of course, she had a previous invitation from Mr. Marsden and had to decline."
"I see," was his mother's clipped response.
"But I wanted to go to the farm," Amy declared with a defiantly pleading look.
"Well, I'm sorry, but we're going on the picnic." Even as she spoke, Elizabeth knew she was being insensitively cold to her daughter. She should be quietly explaining that they could go to the farm another time instead of making a coldly worded order. It was Jed's fault.
"I don't want to go on your stupid old picnic. The silverware in her daughter's hand was discarded angrily on to her plate, clanging loudly in accompaniment to her mutinous expression. "I want to go to the farm and see the animals. I don't want to go with you!"
"That will be enough, Amy," Elizabeth warned with firm softness.
"Maybe you can go another time," Jed inserted, a warm persuasive smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"I never get to do what I want." Her lower lip jutted out in a self-pitying pout, as Amy flashed a resentful glance at Elizabeth. "I always have to do what she wants!"
Elizabeth was angered that Jed should attempt to quiet her daughter's temper. If he had not mentioned the invitation to the farm to Amy in the first place, none of this arguing would have occurred. Wrongly she directed this anger at Amy instead of the man at her right who deserved it.
"You will stop this sarcasm at once, Amy," she ordered.
"I don't want to go on that picnic!" Tears began filling the brown eyes of her daughter.
"I think you'd better go to your room, Amy," Elizabeth tried to speak calmly and control her own growing temper. "When you can behave correctly at the table, you may return."
"No, I will not go to my room!" The stiffly held back tears made Amy's voice tremble.
Although Jed might have been the instigator of the quarrel, Elizabeth recognized that she had handled it very badly. Sending Amy to her room was probably unfair punishment, but the open rebellion of her daughter at the order made it imperative that she carry it out, regardless of the knife of remorse that stabbed her heart.
Flashing Jed a speaking glance, Elizabeth rose from her chair and walked round to the opposite side of the table where Amy sat. With a downcast chin, Amy pushed her own chair away from the table. A tear slid down a round cheek as Amy refused to look at her mother, letting her sense of injustice be known.
"Come along, Amy," Elizabeth said quietly. She touched the girl's shoulder with her hand and immediately Amy pulled away to walk rigidly toward the hall.
As Elizabeth turned to follow, she looked fully into Jed's bland expression.
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