Rosewood Lane (Cedar Cove #2)(52)
“That I can’t answer,” she said and wanted to kick Jack for bringing it up.
“You’re a very wise person, aren’t you?” Eric said, looking at her in admiration. He finally seemed to relax a little.
“She’s great,” Jack agreed.
“Now, how about helping us decorate this Charlie Brown Christmas tree?” Olivia urged.
Eric hesitated and then gave her a huge grin. “Okay!”
In her heart of hearts, Olivia was convinced that everything would work out for Shelly, Eric and the twins—no matter who their father was.
Ten
Over the years, Olivia had given a number of speeches. She tended to shy away from accepting these engagements, but in her position as an elected official, they were unavoidable. This was the first time she’d been asked to speak at the HenryM.JacksonSeniorCenter, and she was admittedly nervous.
The senior potluck luncheons were held on the first Monday of each month. Last June, Mary Berger had asked Olivia to be the January speaker. Six months had never passed so quickly. Olivia had dutifully written the appointment in her date book and then promptly forgotten all about it. Not until she opened her appointment book for the New Year did the reminder jump out at her.
Naturally, her mother was excited about having “my daughter, the judge,” come and speak to her friends. Knowing Charlotte, she’d gloat for a month. Olivia appreciated her mother’s support, but found her pride excessive and a little embarrassing. Charlotte took every opportunity to tell friends and strangers alike that her only daughter was a judge; worse, she was prone to detailing Olivia’s various judgments, complete with commentaries of her own.
As Olivia dressed for the luncheon, she paused, standing inside her walk-in closet, and frowned as she thought about her mother. Charlotte had overdone it this holiday season, baking for friends, visiting and supervising events at the SeniorCenter, writing the seniors’ column each week.
By Christmas Day, Charlotte was exhausted. It used to be that nothing slowed her down. For the first time, Olivia realized that her mother’s age had caught up with her. Charlotte just wasn’t her usual self, although she valiantly tried to hide how worn-out she was.
Christmas afternoon, when the family gathered at her mother’s house, Charlotte had looked pale and drawn. As soon as they’d finished dinner, Olivia insisted she rest. Charlotte had, of course, resisted. Olivia wondered how she was going to convince her mother to take on fewer commitments in the new year.
Choosing a soft suede dress in a pale tan color with a brown and gold scarf, Olivia arrived at the SeniorCenter a few minutes early. Charlotte and her best friend, Laura, were at the door waiting for her. Beaming with pride, her mother immediately hugged Olivia as though it’d been months—rather than a few days—since they were last together.
“You remember Laura, don’t you?” her mother asked unnecessarily, drawing Olivia into the large room, which was set up with tables seating eight, a buffet area and a slightly raised stage that held the speaker’s podium plus the head table.
“Of course I do,” Olivia said, smiling warmly at her mother’s knitting friend. Charlotte and Laura were the people responsible for inspiring the thriving seniors’ knitting group. The enthusiastic Laura was an accomplished knitter and Olivia had always suspected she could convince the whole world that peace was a possibility if everyone took up knitting needles instead of guns.
“I’m so pleased you could accept our invitation,” Mary Berger, the center’s social director, said as she approached Olivia. “We’re looking forward to hearing what you have to say.”
Olivia smiled blandly. She was nervous already and hoped she could pull this off without stumbling over her notes and humiliating herself—and her mother—in the process.
“Did you want our guest of honor to sit with you?” Mary asked Charlotte. She leaned close to Olivia and said in a low voice, “Your mother tends to want speakers she knows to sit with her and her friends instead of at the head table.”
Olivia recalled that Jack Griffin had spoken to the seniors last year, and apparently her mother had captured him for herself. She’d paid the price, however, when Jack had convinced Charlotte to contribute to the weekly Seniors’ Page for The Cedar Cove Chronicle.
“Mom? Would you like me to sit with you and Laura and the others?” Olivia asked.
Charlotte stiffened and her chin came up as though the question offended her. “I think you should be at the head table.”
“I do, too,” Mary said primly. With that, she turned and walked smartly in the direction of the stage. Olivia was about to follow when Charlotte caught her by the arm.
“Get your dessert early,” she said in a loud whisper.
“Dessert?”
“If you don’t get it right away, everything’ll be gone by the time we line up for the buffet. So we help ourselves to dessert first. That’s just the way we do things here. I don’t approve, mind you, but no one cares what I think about it.”
“All right, Mom,” she whispered back.
Mary showed her to her seat at the head table, and Olivia reached for her dessert plate as instructed by her mother. The food tables offered a variety that was truly impressive. She chose a piece of lemon sponge cake and returned to her seat just as Mary was about to say a few words of welcome. The social director of the SeniorCenter made a small huffy sound as Charlotte walked past.