A Mother's Homecoming(49)
Julia gave her a watery smile. “Thank you for understanding. I promise the place we’re going has excellent tea and real clotted cream.”
Considering Julia’s confession in the car and Pam’s draining encounter with Faith, tea could have been a dreary affair. Instead, it was charming. The Royal Cup was fanciful in its setup, as if the entire café was a little girl’s dress-up tea party. Stuffed animals lined the shelves of one wall, and the china dishes were of high quality but all mismatched. Julia and Pam were offered a feathered boa and a sequined scarf upon arrival.
“Don’t tell me you have a silly side,” Pam muttered to her aunt.
“Nonsense. I only come here because of the antioxidants in the tea. Don’t let’s mention this to your uncle.”
They had tea with actual cubed sugar and scones with cream and fruit. Considering what a wonderful time Pam was having, it was strange that her thoughts went in the direction they did.
“Julia, I was thinking that maybe, just for the time being, I’d move out to the house. But I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings. You and Ed have been so good to me!”
Her aunt set a rose pink cup down in its saucer. “This isn’t because of anything we’ve said or done?”
“No, ma’am. Part of it is a convenience issue. I’m usually so tired by the time I finish at night, I might as well sleep at Mae’s. But more than that, I want to prove to myself that I’m honestly making the place inhabitable. Of course, to actually inhabit it, I’ll need some furniture basics. I suppose I could use a sleeping bag, but I’d rather not.”
Julia waved a hand. “Your uncle runs a furniture showroom. We are not letting any niece of ours sleep on the ground, for heaven’s sake. If you’re sure this is what you want, we’ll help.”
“I’m sure.” I think. “Oddly enough, feeling closer to you gives me the confidence to do it. If that makes sense.”
“You feel closer, so you’re ready to move farther away? No, dear, no sense whatsoever,” her aunt said fondly. “We’ll talk to Ed over dinner about some furniture options. And after this weekend’s big jewelry show in Waycomber, my schedule slows down until the holiday craft fairs start up in November, so I’ll be able to come over and help paint or wallpaper.”
“Thank you. God knows I could use the assistance.”
“Done, then.”
Once they’d finished their tea, they progressed to a nearby craft store in much higher spirits. Julia said she needed more “crimp beads,” which Pam gathered to be some sort of fasteners to keep stones in place so that a piece of jewelry hung properly. But no sooner did they get to the jewelry-making section of the store than Julia’s shopping list exploded from one item to ten.
“We may be here a while, dear.”
“No hurry,” Pam said indulgently. “I think I might want to commission you to make a couple of things.” Before she left town, she’d like to give presents to Trudy and Dawn. Maybe a necklace for the older woman and earrings for Dawn, something that wouldn’t get in her way or catch on her smock buttons at the salon.
Julia made a little murmuring noise to show she was listening as she rounded an aisle, never lifting her gaze from a row of red stones that were so alike in hue and size that Pam had no idea how her aunt could tell them apart. Sometimes, watching her aunt work, she thought that Aunt Julia’s hobby required vision and dexterity as precise as piloting a plane for the air force.
“Did you have specific colors in mind?” Julia asked. “Because if you do, we could get materials while we’re here.”
“No, I was mostly thinking out lou—” Pam stopped and nearly knocked into her aunt, who’d made another turn to investigate a rack of clearance inventory.
Right down the aisle from them stood Gwendolyn Shepard and one of her bridge club friends. The minute Gwendolyn saw them, she sucked in a breath, clearly affronted by Pam’s presence in the store. Or on the planet.
“You.” Gwendolyn’s eyes were her son’s, without any of the warmth. Her gaze was blue ice. “I heard you were in Mimosa, but I don’t think I really let myself believe it. Deep down, I didn’t think anyone would really be that brazen.”
Suddenly Aunt Julia was standing between them, crimp beads and semiprecious stones forgotten as she faced down Nick’s mother. “This town was Pamela Jo’s home and she has family here, same as your son. She has every right to visit whenever she wants.”