could hire a cook and a laundress and I’d be de trop ?”
After he finished precisely covering the left shoe with polish, he put it down, looked up at her, and blinked as if he couldn’t understand why she’d brought this up. This conversation did not appear on his schedule.
Poor man, he had no idea what to say, but she had to know. Did he keep her around to take care of this huge house because she cost less than a maid? Had she accepted being banished to this small town with their two little girls—a town she loved and girls whom, heavens knew, she adored—anyway, had she done this for a man who’d pretty much abandoned his family for his office in Austin?
With another blink, George shook his head. “You take care of the children, too.”
“So add a nanny to the staff.”
“And…” George’s cheeks actually turned pink before he looked down at his shoes. He took a few seconds to test how dry the polish was before he mumbled, “And I like you in bed.”
“Aha! So you could hire a…”
“Ouida, don’t say that.” This time he spoke sharply and looked her in the eyes. “You know what we have is special.”
“How?” She took a step toward him. For once in her life, she felt powerful, intimidating. Hard for a round woman with lots of freckles to do, but she did. George watched her looking, well, intimidated.
“Because…it’s you and me. We’ve always been together.”
“But you’re never home, George. I’d like to see you sometimes. The girls would like to get to know you.”
He stood as if that change of position would place him in control of the situation. “I’ve just started a business.”
“Years ago. But if it were new, would that make up for nearly abandoning us?”
“I haven’t abandoned you. I make a good living for this family. As the owner of a business, I hire people who depend on the company to support their families. That’s important.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She hadn’t reached him. She still couldn’t make him understand. She sighed. “And your family isn’t,” she whispered.
“Of course you are. You…” He fumbled for words. “Ouida, my shoes are dry. I have to finish up.” He sat back down and picked up a brush.
She stopped trying. She knew George’s priorities. Work first, family, distant second. Now she had to figure out what was best for Carol and Gretchen and for her. The girls needed a father, she knew that, but they didn’t have one now and she didn’t have a husband except for those treasured moments at night. That wasn’t enough any longer.
* * *
In their usual places at the diner at two o’clock Monday afternoon, the Widows awaited the appearance of Blossom Brown. Winnie Jenkins, still bursting with pride at being a real Widow for six months, stirred sweetener into her tea. Mercedes had arrived from the library mere seconds earlier and settled in a chair while Birdie placed cups of coffee in front of the other Widows, then put another on the table in front of Blossom’s empty chair.
“When are you getting married?” Birdie asked Winnie.
Winnie blushed. Silly for a woman their age to blush, but she did. Birdie couldn’t criticize. Well, she could, but that would sound spiteful.
“Oh, we don’t know. Mitchell wanted to wait until Sam got married. He says his son’s wedding should have first priority.”
“That was weeks ago,” Birdie said. “When are you getting married?”
Winnie smiled. “I don’t mind the wait. After all, I’ve been waiting my whole life for the right man.”
Sentimental dribble , Birdie thought, but she wouldn’t call Winnie out for those emotions. After all, Birdie had had her dear Elmer for nearly thirty years. Winnie deserved a good man, too.
Okay, Birdie accepted that, but she didn’t need to hear about all that sweetness and light.
“Did you see Sam and Willow in church the other Sunday? With the boys?” As usual, Mercedes changed the subject when she saw conflict
After he finished precisely covering the left shoe with polish, he put it down, looked up at her, and blinked as if he couldn’t understand why she’d brought this up. This conversation did not appear on his schedule.
Poor man, he had no idea what to say, but she had to know. Did he keep her around to take care of this huge house because she cost less than a maid? Had she accepted being banished to this small town with their two little girls—a town she loved and girls whom, heavens knew, she adored—anyway, had she done this for a man who’d pretty much abandoned his family for his office in Austin?
With another blink, George shook his head. “You take care of the children, too.”
“So add a nanny to the staff.”
“And…” George’s cheeks actually turned pink before he looked down at his shoes. He took a few seconds to test how dry the polish was before he mumbled, “And I like you in bed.”
“Aha! So you could hire a…”
“Ouida, don’t say that.” This time he spoke sharply and looked her in the eyes. “You know what we have is special.”
“How?” She took a step toward him. For once in her life, she felt powerful, intimidating. Hard for a round woman with lots of freckles to do, but she did. George watched her looking, well, intimidated.
“Because…it’s you and me. We’ve always been together.”
“But you’re never home, George. I’d like to see you sometimes. The girls would like to get to know you.”
He stood as if that change of position would place him in control of the situation. “I’ve just started a business.”
“Years ago. But if it were new, would that make up for nearly abandoning us?”
“I haven’t abandoned you. I make a good living for this family. As the owner of a business, I hire people who depend on the company to support their families. That’s important.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She hadn’t reached him. She still couldn’t make him understand. She sighed. “And your family isn’t,” she whispered.
“Of course you are. You…” He fumbled for words. “Ouida, my shoes are dry. I have to finish up.” He sat back down and picked up a brush.
She stopped trying. She knew George’s priorities. Work first, family, distant second. Now she had to figure out what was best for Carol and Gretchen and for her. The girls needed a father, she knew that, but they didn’t have one now and she didn’t have a husband except for those treasured moments at night. That wasn’t enough any longer.
* * *
In their usual places at the diner at two o’clock Monday afternoon, the Widows awaited the appearance of Blossom Brown. Winnie Jenkins, still bursting with pride at being a real Widow for six months, stirred sweetener into her tea. Mercedes had arrived from the library mere seconds earlier and settled in a chair while Birdie placed cups of coffee in front of the other Widows, then put another on the table in front of Blossom’s empty chair.
“When are you getting married?” Birdie asked Winnie.
Winnie blushed. Silly for a woman their age to blush, but she did. Birdie couldn’t criticize. Well, she could, but that would sound spiteful.
“Oh, we don’t know. Mitchell wanted to wait until Sam got married. He says his son’s wedding should have first priority.”
“That was weeks ago,” Birdie said. “When are you getting married?”
Winnie smiled. “I don’t mind the wait. After all, I’ve been waiting my whole life for the right man.”
Sentimental dribble , Birdie thought, but she wouldn’t call Winnie out for those emotions. After all, Birdie had had her dear Elmer for nearly thirty years. Winnie deserved a good man, too.
Okay, Birdie accepted that, but she didn’t need to hear about all that sweetness and light.
“Did you see Sam and Willow in church the other Sunday? With the boys?” As usual, Mercedes changed the subject when she saw conflict
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