The Shop on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #1)(5)
Jacqueline nodded. “Obviously Tammie Lee’s a breeder, just as I suspected.”
Reese frowned; he disapproved of her natural wariness toward Paul’s wife. But they knew practically nothing about her family. What little Jacqueline had unearthed, between the girl’s tales of aunts and uncles and God-only-knew how many cousins, had been disheartening to say the least.
The sound of a crane overhead distracted Reese momentarily and when he returned his attention to her he was frowning again. “You don’t seem happy about this.”
“Come on, Reese! How do you expect me to feel?”
“Like a woman who’s about to be a grandmother for the first time.”
Jacqueline crossed her arms. “Well, I for one am not thrilled.” Several of her nearest and dearest friends had delighted in their status as new grandmothers, but Jacqueline doubted she’d make this latest adjustment as smoothly as her friends.
“Jacquie, this is our grandchild.”
“I should’ve known better than to say anything to you,” she said angrily. Jacqueline wouldn’t have mentioned it at all if not for the argument with Paul. She’d always been close to her son. He was the reason she’d stayed in this empty shell of a marriage. Her son was everything she’d hoped for: handsome, smart, successful and so much more. He’d gone into banking and was quickly climbing up the corporate ladder—and then, a year ago, he’d done something completely out of character. He’d married the wrong woman.
“You haven’t given Tammie Lee a chance,” Reese insisted.
“That is blatantly unfair.” To Jacqueline’s horror, her voice shook with emotion. She’d given this awkward relationship with Tammie Lee her best effort. For the life of her, Jacqueline couldn’t understand why her sensible son would marry this stranger, this…this little girl from the swamps, when so many of her friends’ daughters were interested in him. Paul called Tammie Lee his southern belle, but all Jacqueline saw was a hillbilly. “I took her to lunch at the country club and I’ve never been so mortified in my life. I introduced her to Mary James, and the next thing I know, Tammie Lee’s discussing a recipe for pickled pigs’ feet or some such with the President of the Women’s Association.” It had taken Jacqueline weeks to gather up enough courage to face her friend again.
“Isn’t Mary in charge of the cookbook? It makes perfect sense that the two of them would—”
“The last thing I need is for you to criticize me, too,” Jacqueline blurted out. There was no point in trying to explain anything to Reese. They couldn’t even have a civil conversation anymore. Besides, this construction dust was ruining her makeup and the wind was playing havoc with her French twist. Reese didn’t care, though. Appearances were important, but he had no appreciation of everything she did to maintain herself physically. He didn’t have any idea how much work was involved in styling her hair and doing her makeup properly. She was in her midfifties now, and it took a subtle hand to hide age lines.
His voice rose slightly. “What exactly did you say to Paul?”
Jacqueline squared her shoulders in an attempt to preserve her dignity. “Just that I wished he’d waited a while before starting his family.”
Her husband offered her his hand to assist her into the construction trailer. “Come inside.”
Jacqueline ignored his gesture of help and stepped into the trailer. Although Reese routinely visited his work sites, this was the first time she’d been inside one of these trailers. She glanced around and took note of the blue-prints, empty coffee cups and general disarray. The place resembled a pigpen.
“You’d better tell me everything.” Reese poured coffee and silently held out a cup. She declined with a shake of her head, afraid the cup hadn’t been washed in weeks.
“Why do you assume I said anything more than the fact that I was disappointed?” she asked.
“Because I know you.”
“Well, thank you very much.” Her throat was thickening but she refused to let him see how his rebuke had hurt her. “To make matters worse, Tammie Lee’s nearly six months along. Naturally Paul had a convenient excuse for keeping us out of the picture. He said they didn’t want to say anything until they could be sure the pregnancy was safe.”
“And you don’t believe him?” Reese crossed his arms and leaned next to the open door.
“Of course I don’t. People usually wait three months before they share their good news,” she said sarcastically, “but six? You and I both know he put off telling us because he knew how I’d feel. I’ve said from the first, and I’ll say it again, this marriage is a very big mistake.”
“Now, Jacquie…”
“What else am I to think? Paul goes off on a business trip to New Orleans and meets this girl in a bar.”
“They were both attending the same financial conference, and met for a drink later that evening.”
Why did Reese have to drag up unnecessary details? “They were together all of three days and the next thing I know he announces that he’s married to a girl neither of us has ever met.”
“Now I agree with you there,” Reese conceded. “I do wish Paul had told us, but it’s been almost a year.”
It still upset Jacqueline that her son hadn’t had a large church wedding the way she’d always envisioned. Jacqueline felt it was what Paul was entitled to—what she was entitled to. Instead she hadn’t even been invited to the wedding.