federal case out of anything.”
The kettle whistled. Oh, Mama’s tea. Jade snapped off the burner and poured steaming water in Mama’s mug. She glanced back at her husband. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Max filled the Duke glass with ice, then with the remains of his soda. “By the way, Dad beeped in while I was talking to Rice and wanted to know if you’d talked to Mom. He said they were supposed to have dinner with the McClures tonight, but she didn’t show.”
“Haven’t talked to her.” Jade squeezed in a spoonful of honey into Mama’s tea. At least not since yesterday when she asked to move into the loft. This morning she heard footsteps as she opened the shop, but June never showed in the Blue Umbrella.
“What’s that expression on your face?” Max, gruff and loud, tugged loose his tie as if he were suffocating.
“You mean the expression of me making Mama tea?” Her heart burned inside her chest, fueled by the secret she didn’t want to keep. Pulling the tea bag from the water and draining the excess, Jade welcomed the small chore as a valid distraction.
“No, the one of you hiding something.”
“You concluded that from my expression?”
“Call it lawyer instincts.” Max stepped around the island and lifted her chin with a touch of his finger. “Do you know something about Mom?”
“Why don’t you ask your dad?” Jade met his gaze as she headed out of the kitchen with Mama’s tea.
“Jade?” He followed her upstairs, then waited by the door while she situated Mama with her tea and helped her find a program to watch.
“I’ll check on you in a bit.”
Down the stairs, Max calmly descended behind her, rounding the staircase to meet her in the family room. She clicked on the lamp by her desk and launched e-mail and QuickBooks.
“Jade, there’s no guessing now. You’re hiding something.” He propped himself on the arm of the club chair. Jade had bought it at an estate sale a few months ago, and Max claimed it as his favorite chair.
“Max, if I tell you, don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Why would I get mad at you?”
“Because it’s bad news, and bad-news messengers get shot at, knocked down, and labeled all the time.”
“I think I can rise above it, Jade.” He waited. “We’re friends. Lovers. No secrets once we married, right? Wasn’t that the deal?”
She regarded his face for a long moment. She, his wife, his lover and friend, was about to scourge his treasured childhood memories by telling him his hero was a cheating scum. Forever he’d associate her with the day he learned his father was an adulterer.
Jade had grown up hearing her parents fight, listening to every accusation. She’d watched her daddy drive away at midnight never to return. Max, even at thirty-eight, clung to the idea that his flawed and imperfect parents maintained an idyllic marriage.
“No, I can’t.” She turned back to her computer. “I won’t. Just ask your parents, Max.”
“I’m asking you.” He touched her arm to draw her attention. “How do you know what’s going on with them anyway?”
“I was there.” Jade’s fingers wrapped around a pen, and she absently tapped it against her desk.
“Where?”
“At Orchid House . . . last Thursday. I picked up your mom in the city when Honey dropped her off after their shopping trip.”
“What happened?” Max shoved up from the arm of the chair and stood, feet apart, arms crossed.
Jade jiggled her leg. Seeing Claire . . . hearing Rebel’s cold tone . . . witnessing June’s stone composure. Just what did Jade witness that evening?
“Jade?” Max grew impatient. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll imagine the worst thing possible.”
“Go ahead.” Jade exhaled a bit. What if he just guessed? “What’s the worst thing you can imagine?”
Max paced to the fireplace. “I don’t know . . . Cancer? Losing their home? Losing their faculties? Dad gambling the family fortune on a horse race and losing? Mom walking
The kettle whistled. Oh, Mama’s tea. Jade snapped off the burner and poured steaming water in Mama’s mug. She glanced back at her husband. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Max filled the Duke glass with ice, then with the remains of his soda. “By the way, Dad beeped in while I was talking to Rice and wanted to know if you’d talked to Mom. He said they were supposed to have dinner with the McClures tonight, but she didn’t show.”
“Haven’t talked to her.” Jade squeezed in a spoonful of honey into Mama’s tea. At least not since yesterday when she asked to move into the loft. This morning she heard footsteps as she opened the shop, but June never showed in the Blue Umbrella.
“What’s that expression on your face?” Max, gruff and loud, tugged loose his tie as if he were suffocating.
“You mean the expression of me making Mama tea?” Her heart burned inside her chest, fueled by the secret she didn’t want to keep. Pulling the tea bag from the water and draining the excess, Jade welcomed the small chore as a valid distraction.
“No, the one of you hiding something.”
“You concluded that from my expression?”
“Call it lawyer instincts.” Max stepped around the island and lifted her chin with a touch of his finger. “Do you know something about Mom?”
“Why don’t you ask your dad?” Jade met his gaze as she headed out of the kitchen with Mama’s tea.
“Jade?” He followed her upstairs, then waited by the door while she situated Mama with her tea and helped her find a program to watch.
“I’ll check on you in a bit.”
Down the stairs, Max calmly descended behind her, rounding the staircase to meet her in the family room. She clicked on the lamp by her desk and launched e-mail and QuickBooks.
“Jade, there’s no guessing now. You’re hiding something.” He propped himself on the arm of the club chair. Jade had bought it at an estate sale a few months ago, and Max claimed it as his favorite chair.
“Max, if I tell you, don’t shoot the messenger.”
“Why would I get mad at you?”
“Because it’s bad news, and bad-news messengers get shot at, knocked down, and labeled all the time.”
“I think I can rise above it, Jade.” He waited. “We’re friends. Lovers. No secrets once we married, right? Wasn’t that the deal?”
She regarded his face for a long moment. She, his wife, his lover and friend, was about to scourge his treasured childhood memories by telling him his hero was a cheating scum. Forever he’d associate her with the day he learned his father was an adulterer.
Jade had grown up hearing her parents fight, listening to every accusation. She’d watched her daddy drive away at midnight never to return. Max, even at thirty-eight, clung to the idea that his flawed and imperfect parents maintained an idyllic marriage.
“No, I can’t.” She turned back to her computer. “I won’t. Just ask your parents, Max.”
“I’m asking you.” He touched her arm to draw her attention. “How do you know what’s going on with them anyway?”
“I was there.” Jade’s fingers wrapped around a pen, and she absently tapped it against her desk.
“Where?”
“At Orchid House . . . last Thursday. I picked up your mom in the city when Honey dropped her off after their shopping trip.”
“What happened?” Max shoved up from the arm of the chair and stood, feet apart, arms crossed.
Jade jiggled her leg. Seeing Claire . . . hearing Rebel’s cold tone . . . witnessing June’s stone composure. Just what did Jade witness that evening?
“Jade?” Max grew impatient. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll imagine the worst thing possible.”
“Go ahead.” Jade exhaled a bit. What if he just guessed? “What’s the worst thing you can imagine?”
Max paced to the fireplace. “I don’t know . . . Cancer? Losing their home? Losing their faculties? Dad gambling the family fortune on a horse race and losing? Mom walking
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