A Week Till the Wedding. Linda Winstead Jones

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      Playing at being completely off her rocker was easier than she’d imagined. And more fun. Maybe it was a little bit mean, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Jacob hadn’t been home in five years. Five years! And that time he’d flown into Atlanta one day and out the next, barely home long enough to say hello to his immediate family. Family was important. Family was everything!

      Only one of her four grandsons—Ben, who had not chosen wisely—was married. Caleb and Luke were both older than Jacob, and neither of them had married. Well, Caleb had tried when he’d been a younger man, but she’d had cheese last longer than that marriage. She’d deal with the other two soon enough, but the situation with Jacob was critical.

      No one knew it, except for Lurlene and Doc Porter, but Eunice had become quite good at browsing the internet with her laptop computer. The family thought she used the laptop for playing solitaire, and sometimes she did. But when no one was watching she browsed the internet with the best of them. A few weeks ago she’d run across an alarming photo that had sent warning bells off in her head. Jacob, at some highfalutin event, a skinny brunette in a tiny black dress clinging to his arm …

      If she didn’t do something he would marry a woman just like the one in the picture. Maybe not her, exactly, but someone like her. Shallow. Bony. Caring about nothing but money and possessions. They’d have one or two spoiled kids who’d grow up to be totally worthless, and she’d be lucky to see Jacob again before she passed even if she lived to be a hundred and twenty.

      He’d lost his way. It was up to her to help him find his way back again. Daisy Bell was a big part of the plan. Eunice didn’t believe for a minute that they weren’t still in love.

      All she had to do was remind them of that fact. She had two and a half weeks to get it done.

      “Try it on,” she instructed. Eunice looked at Susan and Madison. She narrowed her eyes, squinting at Madison. “Who are you? Are you the seamstress? I thought Lurlene could handle any alterations, but Susan, if you think it’s best that we hire someone …”

      Madison’s lips narrowed. “Grandma Eunice, it’s me, Maddy. I’m married to Ben, remember? We’ve been married almost two years.”

      Eunice had practiced her confused expression in the mirror countless times, and she called upon it now. Her eyes widened and she blinked fast several times. She puckered her mouth, very slightly before saying, “Ben isn’t married! Why, he’s much too young.” Seven years ago, when Jacob and Daisy had been together, Ben hadn’t been married. He hadn’t even known this whiny girl. Oh, if only she really could turn back the clock.

      Eunice didn’t like Ben’s wife much. The girl didn’t dress properly, wore too much makeup, didn’t go to church every Sunday and couldn’t carry on an intelligent conversation to save her life. The last thing she’d read had probably been the side of a cereal box.

      But Daisy … Daisy was sharp as a tack. She had her priorities straight. She went to church every Sunday, and that was a plus even if she was a Methodist. She’d sacrificed for her family, and that made her the kind of woman Jacob needed. And fast.

      Eunice reminded herself, not for the first time, not to get too carried away. If she seemed to have really lost it, they might decide to lock her away somewhere, or the doctors they’d threatened to call in would show up long before the reunion—and the wedding. She needed to appear to be just a little bit crazy, not entirely cuckoo.

      One way or another, she would get what she wanted.

      Madison stormed out of the room, near tears. Daisy stared after her. Poor girl. She was so upset about Eunice’s condition.

      Daisy carefully placed the gown across Eunice’s bed. It was so old she was afraid to touch it, much less try it on! The satin was a soft ivory, and the cut of the gown was surprisingly sleek and simple.

      “I want to see it on you, dear,” Eunice said in a voice that held not a hint of dementia. She was matriarch of this family, and was accustomed to being obeyed. Always.

      If the old woman hadn’t been sick, Daisy never would’ve agreed to try on the wedding gown. It was painful, to be reminded of what she’d never have. It hurt, to have the past brought back in such a sharp, detailed way. She and Jacob were never going to get married. Those “Mrs. Daisy Tasker” doodles were ancient history. All the plans they’d made, the simple dreams she’d had … gone.

      She should hate this house and everyone in it. For a long time she’d been so sure that these people would one day be her family, that the house would one day be her family home as well as Jacob’s. It hurt … but she couldn’t hate the house or the people. No, it couldn’t be that easy.

      Daisy caressed the fabric then pulled her hand back, afraid the simple touch might damage the satin. “I can’t do it,” she whispered, and then she looked up. Jacob’s mother and grandmother were both staring at her. She tried to smile. “I’m sorry. I simply ate too much for supper. I’m not accustomed to Lurlene’s cooking, and I just know I’m two sizes bigger than I was when I sat down to dinner. Tomorrow?” she offered. “I can come by after I close the shop and try on the gown.”

      She half expected an argument from Miss Eunice, but Jacob’s grandmother smiled sweetly. “Of course. You must come for supper again tomorrow night. I’ve already asked Lurlene to make chicken and dumplings. Oh, and you know what I’m in the mood for? Your dear, sweet mother’s lemon cake. Bless her soul. She used to bring it to the annual Fourth of July picnic and I always looked forward to eating a big piece. Sweet and tangy and rich … so amazingly rich. Do you have the recipe?”

      “I do.” Not that she’d ever attempted to make that cake. It had taken her mother half a day to prepare!

      “Lovely. Tomorrow night, chicken and dumplings and lemon cake.” It was a command that left no room for negotiation.

      Daisy carefully returned the wedding gown to the wardrobe, kissed Eunice on the cheek and left the room. Once she was in the hallway, the door closed behind her, she shut her eyes and leaned against the wall. The hall was deserted, thank heavens, and she took a moment to gather her senses, as best she could. By tomorrow night Eunice would surely have forgotten about the wedding gown and the lemon cake, and Daisy could pass the evening blessedly alone, eating a frozen dinner and watching something mindless on television.

      This was torture, pure and simple. Her legs were a little wobbly and her heart was beating much too hard. Daisy pushed away from the wall and headed not for the parlor where she assumed Jacob would be waiting but for the front porch. She needed a few minutes alone, a little bit of time to rein in her jumbled emotions.

      She pushed the screen door open and headed for the porch swing that faced west. The days were long, in the midst of summer, and the sunsets across the expanse of Tasker land were breathtaking. This sunset was no exception. She’d seen more than a few, from this very porch swing. Normally she had not enjoyed them alone. This porch swing, Jacob, a couple glasses of iced tea, whispers, a stolen kiss or two or twenty …

      Daisy sat there and vowed not to allow an old woman’s fantasies to drag her into the past. She’d moved on, made a new and good life for herself. She didn’t think about what might’ve been. Very often. Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She thought about it all the time!

      And her life wasn’t new at all. It was old and familiar. Bell Grove was home and she belonged here. She didn’t need or want her life to be new and exciting.

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