A Week Till the Wedding. Linda Winstead Jones

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      And him.

      His mom didn’t cook, but that didn’t mean the family didn’t eat well. Lurlene Preston had been in charge of the kitchen for thirty years, and no one cooked a good old-fashioned Southern meal like Lurlene. The meal that was laid out was definitely a welcome distraction. Jacob didn’t eat this way when he was in California. Not that he could’ve gotten fried chicken, turnip greens, fried okra and fried green tomatoes, served up with a mess of cornbread, in San Francisco. Even if he could’ve found those foods in a specialty restaurant, they wouldn’t have been the same. The smells and tastes transported him back to his childhood, to family dinners followed by the front porch swing or an hour or so spent working on whatever car he was remodeling at the time.

      He and Caleb—they were the middle boys of the four, and Caleb was almost two years older than Jacob—had both had an interest in rebuilding cars from the age of fourteen or so on. It was something they’d enjoyed doing together, even though they didn’t have much else in common. Jacob hadn’t touched an engine since he’d moved to San Francisco. He didn’t even change the oil in his own car. No, he paid someone else to do it for him. Jacob hadn’t missed tinkering with engines at all, hadn’t even thought about that old hobby until he’d come home.

      Funny how the scents of his youth were the ones plaguing him this week. Food. Engine oil. Daisy. Daisy, most of all.

      For a while they enjoyed a reprieve from wedding talk. Everyone talked about the weather, the food, baseball and the upcoming football season and the relatives who were not in attendance. Daisy was quiet in the beginning, and she just picked at her food. But after a while she relaxed. She ate, participated in the conversation and completely and totally ignored him.

      Which was good, in one way. He could stare at her all he wanted, and she wouldn’t realize that he studied the gentle curve of her jaw and the tempting length of her neck. He didn’t dare look any lower—not for more than a split second here and there—for fear that she’d turn in his direction and catch him with his eyes on the swell of her breasts. He knew better. He didn’t ogle women. But this was Daisy, and he might never get another chance.

      Their reprieve ended as peach cobbler was served. Grandma Eunice began again to discuss her plans for the wedding. The ceremony would be held Sunday afternoon of the three-day Tasker Reunion, she’d decided. It would be the culmination of the annual event, a formal wedding to be held in the house. Family only, since space would be an issue. Besides, Grandma Eunice added with her nose in the air, family was all that mattered.

      She looked at him as she added this last dig. It wasn’t a secret that she was annoyed at Jacob for throwing himself so wholeheartedly into his career, for not coming home and taking his place here. The Taskers owned interests in several successful restaurants, a department store—there were three locations, now—a steel mill and a sock factory. Jacob’s grandfather and great-uncles—three of them—had gone into business together. They’d done well. These days this branch of the family was the most prosperous, but Jacob had many cousins—close and distant—who continued to hold a portion of old family businesses.

      He could’ve taken a job at any one of them, or else begun working with his mother with the objective of eventually taking the reins from her. But he was determined to make it on his own, to be independently successful. Yes, his ambition had taken him away from his family for too long, he could admit to that. Was that why when his grandmother’s mind had started to go she’d immediately honed in on this wedding business? Was she, somehow, determined to see him married to a local girl before she died so he’d be tied to Bell Grove in yet another way?

      Jacob had hoped his grandmother would forget about having Daisy try on her wedding dress before the meal was done, but no such luck. No, she was anxious to see Daisy in the gown, prepared to get Lurlene to take care of any alterations that might be necessary. Daisy paled at the thought, he caught a hint of a return of that tremble that told him how hard this was for her, but she played along. The four women left the table and headed for Grandma Eunice’s suite of rooms. Years ago, when she’d first started having trouble with the stairs, they’d converted the library and sitting room on the ground floor for her.

      When the women had gone, Jacob stared at his dad and his brother—one and then the other. “Why didn’t you tell me she was this bad?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

      His father shrugged his shoulders. “It happened so fast. She’s had trouble remembering some things for years, but we thought it was normal, related to her aging. Then all of a sudden she’s losing whole blocks of time. Months, years. The doctor says the memory loss could be caused by any number of things, but … I don’t know.”

      Ben nodded his head. “I know we don’t get here often enough, but I swear, one time when we saw her she was fine. Sharp as a tack. A couple of months later she doesn’t remember who Maddy is.”

      They hadn’t been paying attention, if they thought this had come on suddenly. That wasn’t the way dementia worked, unless it was a sudden side effect of a medication or an infection. Those possibilities had been checked and rejected. Jacob couldn’t very well complain to his father and younger brother about their lack of attention to the family matriarch. He hadn’t been home in years, so he could hardly jump all over them for not understanding the small changes that had turned into big ones. But dammit, they were here.

      “She needs a more competent doctor.”

      “Good luck getting her to agree to that,” Jim grumbled.

      “You have to make it happen,” Jacob snapped.

      “She’s agreed to see someone after the reunion. She wouldn’t even agree to that much until you came home. That’s a step in the right direction.”

      A step that should’ve been taken months ago. Jacob decided not to argue any longer with his father, who was maddeningly laid-back about the entire situation. Arguing was a waste of breath, apparently.

      “Daisy looks great!” Ben said brightly, happy to change the subject.

      “Yes, she does,” Jacob agreed sourly. Too great.

      “How on earth did you get her to agree to this? I figured she’d tell you to take a hike.”

      He’d love to be able to tell Ben that he’d bought Daisy’s cooperation, but she’d taken that option away from him. “She’s doing it for Grandma Eunice, not for me. They always did get along well.”

      Ben snorted. “I wish she and Maddy could find a way to get along. Grandma Eunice never approved of my wife, she never liked her the way she liked Daisy. Not once did she offer to let Maddy wear her wedding dress.” He shook his head. “Not that Maddy would’ve worn the old thing.”

      Ben’s wife was very pretty, but she was also very flashy. Madison had made the mistake of wearing a very short dress to the house the first time she’d had dinner here. According to Susan, Grandma Eunice had never forgiven that infraction.

      The men retired to the parlor for scotch and cigars, an old tradition that had survived many, many years in this household. Jacob passed on the offered cigar but took the scotch. Just one. He had a feeling he was going to need the fortification in order to get through the rest of the evening.

      Eunice watched as Daisy followed her instructions and very carefully removed the wedding gown from the wardrobe. Eunice had had the dress—more than sixty years old and as beautiful as it had been the СКАЧАТЬ