Stranger in Paradise (Home Front - Book #2) by Barbara Bretton Page B
Authors: Barbara Bretton
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president of Wilson Manufacturing. She’d managed to regain her figure almost immediately after giving birth to her and Johnny’s son, and you’d certainly never guess she was four months pregnant right now. Cathy had had a miscarriage two years ago and there’d been concern about whether or not she’d be able to carry another child to term. This time, however, it looked as if little Billy would soon have a baby brother or sister to love. Johnny still looked nervous as a cat, but Cathy positively radiated confidence that all would go as it should.
But then Cathy was always radiant, wasn’t she? She simply had to wash her face in the morning, and the world—or at least the male half of it—was ready to fall at her feet. Nancy had to work at it. She’d long since abandoned her natural red hair color in favor of a variety of rich chestnut shades, and she’d acquired a remarkable expertise with foundation makeup in her eternal battle with her wayward freckles. Everyone laughed at her stacks of magazines piled up in the far corner of the rumpus room, but those magazines had taught Nancy a lot about the two things that were really important in this world: looking pretty and keeping your husband happy.
Cathy sat back down at the kitchen table and lifted the baby from her bassinet. “Is it time for Debbie’s bottle?”
Nancy shook her head. “In forty-five minutes. We have her on a schedule.”
Cathy nodded, but Nancy could see that her sister took exception to Dr. Spock and his methods. When Cathy and Johnny’s son, Billy, was a baby, Cathy had fed the infant on demand. “He’ll be spoiled rotten,” Nancy had said, the voice of experience. “Children thrive on schedules.” Cathy had just nodded and gone about things her own way. Billy was a good-natured, well-adjusted five-year-old who made his cousin Linda seem downright high-strung.
Nancy washed her hands at the sink, then pulled the package of ground beef from the refrigerator. “That was really nice of Johnny to volunteer to go to the train station tonight.”
Cathy kissed the top of her niece’s downy head and looked up at Nancy. “No problem, Nance. He’s going to be at the Levitt office right near the depot. Why should you have to race over there when you have dinner to make?” Cathy’s decision years ago to do business with the firm Levitt & Sons had proven to be the most important deal Wilson Manufacturing had ever made. Bill Levitt had transformed 6,000 acres of barren potato fields into 17,447 houses aimed for the World War II veteran and his growing family. As a subcontractor, Wilson had reaped the rewards of Levitt & Sons’ success.
There it was again, that veiled note of censure in Cathy’s calm voice. Nancy gritted her teeth and concentrated on the task at hand. Cathy had never been terribly good at understanding the way normal marriages worked. Just because she and Johnny had been able to figure out a way to share both a professional and a personal life was no reason to assume the rest of the world could pull off such a difficult stunt. Maybe being a working mother was okay in New York City, where anything goes, but in Levittown, Long Island, heading off to work in some office every day would make you an instant outcast. Not that Nancy wanted to work, mind you. The house and the kids kept her busy, and if she added in her trips to the train station and the kindergarten car pool and all the endless visits to doctors and grocery stores—well, there weren’t enough hours in the day as it was.
It was just that Nancy had never imagined that she would settle down so quickly into a routine so predictable.
Or that life would seem so quiet.
“Nance?”
She started at the sound of her name. Cathy touched her elbow.
“Are you okay?”
Nancy brushed back a lock of hair and flashed her sister what she hoped was a self-confident grin. “Just daydreaming.”
“The coronation?”
Nancy sighed and placed the package of meat down on the
But then Cathy was always radiant, wasn’t she? She simply had to wash her face in the morning, and the world—or at least the male half of it—was ready to fall at her feet. Nancy had to work at it. She’d long since abandoned her natural red hair color in favor of a variety of rich chestnut shades, and she’d acquired a remarkable expertise with foundation makeup in her eternal battle with her wayward freckles. Everyone laughed at her stacks of magazines piled up in the far corner of the rumpus room, but those magazines had taught Nancy a lot about the two things that were really important in this world: looking pretty and keeping your husband happy.
Cathy sat back down at the kitchen table and lifted the baby from her bassinet. “Is it time for Debbie’s bottle?”
Nancy shook her head. “In forty-five minutes. We have her on a schedule.”
Cathy nodded, but Nancy could see that her sister took exception to Dr. Spock and his methods. When Cathy and Johnny’s son, Billy, was a baby, Cathy had fed the infant on demand. “He’ll be spoiled rotten,” Nancy had said, the voice of experience. “Children thrive on schedules.” Cathy had just nodded and gone about things her own way. Billy was a good-natured, well-adjusted five-year-old who made his cousin Linda seem downright high-strung.
Nancy washed her hands at the sink, then pulled the package of ground beef from the refrigerator. “That was really nice of Johnny to volunteer to go to the train station tonight.”
Cathy kissed the top of her niece’s downy head and looked up at Nancy. “No problem, Nance. He’s going to be at the Levitt office right near the depot. Why should you have to race over there when you have dinner to make?” Cathy’s decision years ago to do business with the firm Levitt & Sons had proven to be the most important deal Wilson Manufacturing had ever made. Bill Levitt had transformed 6,000 acres of barren potato fields into 17,447 houses aimed for the World War II veteran and his growing family. As a subcontractor, Wilson had reaped the rewards of Levitt & Sons’ success.
There it was again, that veiled note of censure in Cathy’s calm voice. Nancy gritted her teeth and concentrated on the task at hand. Cathy had never been terribly good at understanding the way normal marriages worked. Just because she and Johnny had been able to figure out a way to share both a professional and a personal life was no reason to assume the rest of the world could pull off such a difficult stunt. Maybe being a working mother was okay in New York City, where anything goes, but in Levittown, Long Island, heading off to work in some office every day would make you an instant outcast. Not that Nancy wanted to work, mind you. The house and the kids kept her busy, and if she added in her trips to the train station and the kindergarten car pool and all the endless visits to doctors and grocery stores—well, there weren’t enough hours in the day as it was.
It was just that Nancy had never imagined that she would settle down so quickly into a routine so predictable.
Or that life would seem so quiet.
“Nance?”
She started at the sound of her name. Cathy touched her elbow.
“Are you okay?”
Nancy brushed back a lock of hair and flashed her sister what she hoped was a self-confident grin. “Just daydreaming.”
“The coronation?”
Nancy sighed and placed the package of meat down on the
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