made the most tremendous gamble, a gamble he hadnât planned to tell her about until after the ceremony, the sneak.
Not that theyâd even have gotten as far as the pavement outside the wedding chapel if heâd told her earlier.
Heâd certainly had the opportunity. Several opportunities. Theyâd been together in the hotel for the entire weekend, laughing, and lovingâ¦and answering the phone whenever Loony Larry called, which he did at least three times a day.
Ample time. All the time in the world to talk to her, to ask her, one more time, if it would be all right with her if he junked his very good job, his fairly assured future and bet it all on a pipedreamâ¦while demanding that she live on his earnings and not touch her trust fund.
The rat. The low-down, dirty, cowardly rat! Hadnât he believed sheâd loved him enough to stick with him through the âbetter or worseâ if sheâd known up-front?
No, of course he hadnât.
That was what really, really hurt. Had hurt her every day and night for eighteen long months.
She took another spoonful of brownie batter.
That, and knowing that she had been not in the least equipped to handle anything even remotely close to poverty. For crying out loud, she hadnât even been equipped to handle Middle Class!
Sheâd looked at the contents of the bowl, winced and then grabbed a clean spatula in order to spread what remained of the batter in a nine-by-eleven pan. The brownies were going to be awful. Just awful. She wasnât going to fit into her wedding gown, if she kept eating batter.
And it was all Joe OâMalleyâs fault. All of it. The brownies, her weight, her hives.
The rat.
The oven timer dinged now and Maddy pulled oven mitts on her hands and removed the tray of brownies as she allowed her thoughts to come to some sort of conclusion. âSo now I make brownies, and can sew curtains, and even know to dust before I vacuum, not that I vacuum. Mrs. Ballantine would strangle me with the cord if I ever got within ten feet of the vacuum cleaner. And for what? So he could go and get rich and not need me anymore? The rat. The low-down, dirtyââ
âTalking to herself, Jessie,â Almira stage-whispered as the two women walked into the kitchen. âI think thatâs a good sign, donât you?â
âWhy, because sheâs talking to herself, and not screaming at you?â Jessie asked, walking across the large kitchen to bend over the tray of brownies. âSort of short, arenât they? I mean, they sure do smell good, but they donât look as big and fluffy as usual.â
Maddy positioned the pan more carefully on the cooling rack and turned her back on the brownies. âI ate some of the batter,â she mumbled, avoiding her sisterâs eyes.
âSome, Maddy? And I donât think thatâs very healthy. Arenât there raw eggs in brownie batter? You ought to do what I do, grab a spoon and the vanilla fudge ice cream, and go sit in the gazebo and guzzle.â
Maddy looked at her sisterâs taller, leaner frame. Jessie had all the elegance in the family; Jessie and Ryan both. Maddy was shorter, rounder. Definitely rounder. And if she kept eating brownie batter, soon sheâd be a house.
A house. Like the house next door. The house next door that had Joe OâMalley in it. Suddenly she was hungry all over again.
âI eat when Iâm upset,â she said, glaring at her grandmother. âSo sue me.â
Almira spoke up. âYours is a petite, hourglass figure, Maddy, darling. Tiny hands and feet, slim ankles, a waist that would have done any Gibson girl proud. But itâs those generous breasts and rounded hips that really attract the men. Why, you even have darling little dimples on your elbows and knees. Men like to think theyâre all grown up andself-sufficient, but what they really want is a nice, soft cushion to rest their head. Ask
Annabel Joseph
Rue Allyn
Willa Sibert Cather
Christine d'Abo
Serenity King, Pepper Pace, Aliyah Burke, Erosa Knowles, Latrivia Nelson, Tianna Laveen, Bridget Midway, Yvette Hines
CJ Whrite
Alfy Dade
Kathleen Ernst
Samantha-Ellen Bound
Viola Grace