In Your Dreams (Blue Heron #4)(70)

“What do you mean, redo?” Mrs. Johnson asked sternly. “This house is perfect.” Jack winked at her; he’d always been Mrs. J.’s favorite.

“I’m thinking it could do with a Southern woman’s touch,” she said. Pru laughed, then, realizing Hadley was dead serious, coughed to cover.

“Hadley, I forget. Are you an interior designer or an interior decorator?” Honor asked, taking a bite of slimy dumpling.

“What’s the difference?” Abby asked.

Hadley didn’t answer. She shot Jack a look he couldn’t read and remained silent.

“An interior designer deals with how the space is used,” Faith said when Hadley remained quiet. “Decorators deal with how it looks. Am I right, Hadley?”

“Um, yes. More or less. Excuse me, I have to check on something in the kitchen,” Hadley said. She rose stiffly.

“Need help?” Jack asked.

“No, darlin’. You stay put.”

She left the table. A second later, Jack heard their bedroom door close.

“Why is this gravy white, Jack?” Goggy asked. “Not that I’m criticizing, dear, but I’d be happy to teach her to cook.”

“And I would also be happy to help her, Jackie dear,” said Mrs. J., not to be outdone. “Jamaican cuisine is quite delicious.”

“Is there any cheese?” Pops asked.

Jack got his grandfather cheese, then went down the hall to their room. “Babe? Everything okay?” he asked.

“Just fine,” she said. She didn’t spare him a glance, just returned to the table.

Shit. Fine equaled doom.

“How do you like life up north so far?” his father asked Hadley. “Hope you’re not too homesick, sweetheart.”

“Oh, no, of course not,” she said. “I just love y’all.”

“Well, now. The feeling’s mutual,” he said. Good old Dad.

It was, in a lot of respects, a typical family dinner for the Hollands. Lots of talking, lots of wine, lots of laughter, a fair amount of bickering. They ate the meal, which, though bland and sticky, wasn’t horrible. If Faith had made it, the teasing would’ve been merciless, but as Hadley was new to the family, no one said a word that wasn’t complimentary.

Ned and Abby were ordered to clear the table, and Mrs. J. cut the grape pie she’d brought while she and Goggy argued over crust-making techniques. Three minutes later, when dessert had been decimated, Goggy announced that it was time for everyone to leave, and the family trooped out with thanks and kisses and hugs.

“See you tomorrow, guys,” Jack said, closing the door. He smiled and turned to his wife. “So that went well.”

Hadley jammed her fists onto her hips. “Are you crazy? Your family hates me! Your sisters are so mean! And your grandmother is so judgmental!”

Jack’s mouth fell open. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about? No one hates you.”

“That Faith, showing off like that! Spouting about how designers are better than decorators! And Prudence didn’t even take off her work boots!”

“Was she supposed to?”

“What about your father, just sitting there, not saying boo! He hates me!”

“Calm down, sweetheart. Dad never talks much. He loves you.”

“Mrs. Johnson is horrible!”

Okay, that was going too far. Mrs. J. was tireless and fierce and pretty damn wonderful. “Be careful,” he said. “She’s my first love.”

“They hate me because I’m Southern.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “We won the Civil War. We’re totally over it.” She was not amused, shooting him a glare. “Come on, baby. Don’t be upset. Everyone wants you to feel welcome here. They were just trying to get to know you.”

He drew her a bath. Lit candles. Poured her wine. Apologized if his family came on a little strong (which they did, but that was just how it was...which he’d assumed Hadley knew by now).

She took a sip of wine and sighed. “You know what? I’m just gonna lose myself in my work—that’s what I’ll do.”

“That’s great. Do you have a client?”

“Yes, silly. His name is Jack Holland. Now get in this here tub.”

And just like that, her mood was better.

* * *

HADLEY WENT CRAZY with the redecorating.

Jack’s house was at the very top of the ridge, a good quarter mile up from the Old House, where his grandparents lived, and the New House, where Dad, Honor and Mrs. J. all resided. He’d been given the land when he turned thirty; Dad had similar parcels for the girls, but so far, none had done anything with them. Pru and Carl lived in a nice neighborhood on the other side of Manningsport, Honor lived with Dad and Faith was a Californian for the time being, though Jack suspected she’d move home soon enough.

But Jack had built his house two years before, after living in an Airstream trailer for six months to get the feel of the land, where the light hit at various times a day. He studied house plans from Frank Lloyd Wright and the Arts and Crafts era, then hired an architect to draw up plans.

The end result was an airy and open floor plan based around a huge stone fireplace with an exposed chimney. The floors were wide-planked cherry, the kitchen counters black soapstone. Two bedrooms upstairs for future kids, one down, as well as a home office. The basement contained a pool table and wine cellar. The house wasn’t huge, but it had breathing space.