Read Online The Widow and the Wastrel by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janet Dailey
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violence.
"Elizabeth!" Rebecca Carrel's voice called to her imperiously from the dining room. "Was that Jed who just stormed out of the door?"
"Yes," she acknowledged, her voice trembling in indignation that he should have walked out on her like that.
"You might as well come back in here and finish your meal," her mother-in-law ordered.
Elizabeth glanced to the dining room archway, then toward the stairway and the room at the top where Amy was waiting. She forced herself to swallow back the tight knot of anger.
"In a moment, Rebecca," she said in a more controlled tone. "I want to have a talk with Amy first."
"I think it would be best if you left her alone for a while. It will give her an opportunity to consider how unforgivably rude and cheeky she was. An apology is definitely in order after her ill-mannered behavior at the table." There was a light pause before Rebecca added in a bitter tone, "I don't see why she doesn't take after her father."
Instead of Jed her uncle, Elizabeth finished for the older woman. Yes, Amy's aggressively independent nature was more indicative of Jed than Jeremy. Amy was never satisfied that things were to be done in a certain way because that was proper or expected.
Breathing in deeply, she walked toward the steps. In the back of her mind, she knew that when she had explained to Amy why they were going on the picnic, she was going to find out exactly what Jed had told her about the farm. She couldn't believe that her daughter-might think they would go to the farm only on the strength of what Jed had indicated that he had told her. As soon as Amy had given her the proof she needed, she intended to confront Jed with it.
The outcome of her discussion with Amy did not produce the satisfying results that Elizabeth had anticipated. She had been forced to accept the fact that Jed had told the truth. It had been Amy's imagination that made her leap to the conclusion that they were going to the farm. It was a fairly logical deduction, Elizabeth had decided silently, since it was the farm that was uppermost in Amy's mind.
As for the picnic, her daughter's lack of enthusiasm at the prospect didn't improve after their talk. She had grudgingly agreed to go, but had refused to return to the dinner table. The sulky droop to her mouth had remained despite Elizabeth's lighthearted cajoling, a portent of things to come.
Amy's boredom on the picnic couldn't have been expressed more plainly if she had spent the entire afternoon sitting on the blanket and yawning. Elizabeth had been too self-conscious and irritated by her rudeness to react naturally. The responses she made to Allan's attempts to lighten the atmosphere were stilted and false, increasing the discomfort that saturated each moment of the outing. Her embarrassment had increased when Allan had suggested they call it a day at four o'clock, a scant two hours since it had begun.
To make matters worse, Amy had mumbled an ungracious 'thank you' and bolted from the car the minute Allan stopped it in front of their house. Elizabeth had stared after her for a full minute before turning to Allan, the wryly twisting line of his mouth marking his expression.
"I must apologize for my daughter," she murmured self-consciously. "Her behavior today was unforgivable. She really isn't usually this sulky and—"
"You don't need to explain," Allan smiled understandingly, taking one of the hands that were twisted together in her lap and holding it in his own. "Children tend to be a bit selfish about their parents, especially if they have only one."
"It wasn't jealousy." Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably. "I took my anger with someone else out on her the other day, and she hasn't forgiven me for it."
"I can't imagine you being angry. You're much too beautiful." The smooth compliment sprang easily from his lips.
"I am human," she smiled nervously to shrug it aside.
"That's encouraging." His gaze swept over her wind-touseled hair, curling jet black against her
"Elizabeth!" Rebecca Carrel's voice called to her imperiously from the dining room. "Was that Jed who just stormed out of the door?"
"Yes," she acknowledged, her voice trembling in indignation that he should have walked out on her like that.
"You might as well come back in here and finish your meal," her mother-in-law ordered.
Elizabeth glanced to the dining room archway, then toward the stairway and the room at the top where Amy was waiting. She forced herself to swallow back the tight knot of anger.
"In a moment, Rebecca," she said in a more controlled tone. "I want to have a talk with Amy first."
"I think it would be best if you left her alone for a while. It will give her an opportunity to consider how unforgivably rude and cheeky she was. An apology is definitely in order after her ill-mannered behavior at the table." There was a light pause before Rebecca added in a bitter tone, "I don't see why she doesn't take after her father."
Instead of Jed her uncle, Elizabeth finished for the older woman. Yes, Amy's aggressively independent nature was more indicative of Jed than Jeremy. Amy was never satisfied that things were to be done in a certain way because that was proper or expected.
Breathing in deeply, she walked toward the steps. In the back of her mind, she knew that when she had explained to Amy why they were going on the picnic, she was going to find out exactly what Jed had told her about the farm. She couldn't believe that her daughter-might think they would go to the farm only on the strength of what Jed had indicated that he had told her. As soon as Amy had given her the proof she needed, she intended to confront Jed with it.
The outcome of her discussion with Amy did not produce the satisfying results that Elizabeth had anticipated. She had been forced to accept the fact that Jed had told the truth. It had been Amy's imagination that made her leap to the conclusion that they were going to the farm. It was a fairly logical deduction, Elizabeth had decided silently, since it was the farm that was uppermost in Amy's mind.
As for the picnic, her daughter's lack of enthusiasm at the prospect didn't improve after their talk. She had grudgingly agreed to go, but had refused to return to the dinner table. The sulky droop to her mouth had remained despite Elizabeth's lighthearted cajoling, a portent of things to come.
Amy's boredom on the picnic couldn't have been expressed more plainly if she had spent the entire afternoon sitting on the blanket and yawning. Elizabeth had been too self-conscious and irritated by her rudeness to react naturally. The responses she made to Allan's attempts to lighten the atmosphere were stilted and false, increasing the discomfort that saturated each moment of the outing. Her embarrassment had increased when Allan had suggested they call it a day at four o'clock, a scant two hours since it had begun.
To make matters worse, Amy had mumbled an ungracious 'thank you' and bolted from the car the minute Allan stopped it in front of their house. Elizabeth had stared after her for a full minute before turning to Allan, the wryly twisting line of his mouth marking his expression.
"I must apologize for my daughter," she murmured self-consciously. "Her behavior today was unforgivable. She really isn't usually this sulky and—"
"You don't need to explain," Allan smiled understandingly, taking one of the hands that were twisted together in her lap and holding it in his own. "Children tend to be a bit selfish about their parents, especially if they have only one."
"It wasn't jealousy." Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably. "I took my anger with someone else out on her the other day, and she hasn't forgiven me for it."
"I can't imagine you being angry. You're much too beautiful." The smooth compliment sprang easily from his lips.
"I am human," she smiled nervously to shrug it aside.
"That's encouraging." His gaze swept over her wind-touseled hair, curling jet black against her
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