Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber

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      At the last minute, not bothering to check with Jacqueline, Reese had invited Paul and Tammie Lee. Having Paul there was, of course, perfect, but Jacqueline had cringed at the prospect of her daughter-in-law sharing her unsophisticated sense of humor with members of the city government. Well, there was nothing Jacqueline could do about it.

      Thankfully, the evening had gone surprisingly well, with only one minor glitch. The mayor had asked Tammie Lee her opinion of the country club. Without a pause Tammie Lee said in her heavy southern twang that it was nothing but tennis and bridge, dining and whining. After a second’s pause, during which Jacqueline wanted to slink away and die, the mayor laughed uproariously. He said it was the most honest thing anyone had ever said to him. Jacqueline wasn’t sure whether he actually meant it or was just being a good guest.

      Reese had glared across the dinner table at Jacqueline, as if to tell her how wrong she was about Tammie Lee. And how right he was.

      The invitation to their son and his wife wasn’t the crux of their most recent argument, however. Jacqueline and Reese rarely argued; there was no reason for it. But Reese had exploded when he learned she’d been accosted and nearly mugged by those two creeps. Thank goodness both had been apprehended and arraigned. Despite that, her husband had ranted at her for at least ten minutes, unwilling to listen to reason and all because she’d parked the car in the alley. He had the gall to claim she’d asked to be mugged. And then he’d called her stupid.

      Jacqueline was still furious. How dare Reese say such things to her—especially when she’d been doing him a favor! Because of him, her entire day had been ruined. She’d missed her nail appointment entirely, was late for lunch and so rattled she hadn’t found a thing to buy on her shopping spree.

      Other than unavoidable conversation, they hadn’t spoken in five very long days. They wouldn’t be speaking now except for the dinner party, which had been planned weeks earlier. Canceling at the last minute was not an option, so they’d put their argument behind them and assumed their best behavior. Jacqueline was astonished that Tammie Lee had noticed.

      “Did you hear me?” Tammie Lee asked, following Jacqueline into the kitchen with an armload of china.

      Anyone else would have gotten the message and dropped the subject. Not Tammie Lee.

      “You can put those dishes on the counter,” Jacqueline instructed. “Really, there’s no need for you to help. Martha will be here in the morning.” The housekeeper lived in the small guest house in the back. Now that she was older, she rarely had the energy for serving dinner parties. She wanted to retire but Jacqueline relied on her and so Martha stayed on.

      “You don’t want to leave these dishes on the table overnight,” Tammie Lee had insisted and she was right. As soon as everyone had left, Jacqueline would put everything in the dishwasher, a task she preferred to do herself.

      “It was a lovely party,” her daughter-in-law said.

      “Thank you.” Jacqueline bit her tongue to keep from mentioning that one day Tammie Lee would be expected to hold similar parties of her own. She could only hope that when the time came, Tammie Lee would’ve learned a lesson or two from her. Somehow Jacqueline doubted it.

      “You’re such a gracious hostess,” Tammie Lee said, returning with her second load of bone china plates.

      “Thank you.” Jacqueline fought the impulse to remind her daughter-in-law that each of those plates cost more than Tammie Lee’s entire summer wardrobe. “Where are Reese and Paul?” she asked curiously. Jacqueline was tired; the party had drained her and she was ready for bed. She wanted Paul and Tammie Lee to go home so she could finish up.

      “They’re in the den talking.” All the dishes must be in the kitchen now, because Tammie Lee sat down and propped her feet on the opposite chair. She planted her hands on her round belly and rubbed gently. It was more and more obvious now that she was pregnant. Jacqueline hadn’t yet forgiven her son and his wife for keeping the news to themselves for nearly six months.

      Jacqueline wondered what Reese and Paul were discussing that could possibly take this long. She scraped off the plates and set them inside the dishwasher.

      “I hope you didn’t mind me showing the mayor the blanket you made for our baby,” Tammie Lee murmured. “I think it’s a perfectly lovely thing to do for your first grandchild.”

      Jacqueline scowled but kept her head averted so Tammie Lee couldn’t see her reaction. “No, that was fine.”

      “Paul and I are so thrilled you knit something for our baby girl.”

      Jacqueline nodded rather than respond verbally. She continued to scrape leftovers into the garbage disposal.

      When she’d finished, she claimed a chair next to Tammie Lee, first pouring herself a glass of wine. If she was going to be trapped in the kitchen with her daughter-in-law, she needed fortification.

      Tammie Lee studied her. “Did I ever tell you about the time my mama ran over the mailbox with my daddy’s tractor?”

      Jacqueline swallowed her groan. “I don’t believe I’ve heard that one,” she said as she swirled the wine around in her goblet.

      If Tammie Lee noticed her sarcasm, she chose to ignore it. “It’s the only time I can remember hearing my daddy holler at Mama. My mama went rushing into the house in tears and I went, too, outraged that my daddy would raise his voice to her.”

      “Men tend to speak their minds,” Jacqueline said. She sipped her wine and let it linger on her tongue. At fifty dollars a bottle, she was taking the time to appreciate the finer qualities of this merlot.

      “Later Mama told me that the only reason Daddy had been hollering was because the tractor might have toppled on her. He didn’t care one bit about that mailbox. It was my mama he loved, and she might have been crushed getting that close to the irrigation ditch in the tractor. His yelling was a sign of how much he loved her.”

      Jacqueline was sure there was a point to this story, but at the moment it escaped her. She sipped the wine.

      “I hope I didn’t speak out of turn earlier,” Tammie Lee said softly, her eyes wide.

      Jacqueline shrugged carelessly. “I believe the mayor was … amused.”

      “Not the mayor,” Tammie Lee corrected. “I meant when I asked if everything was all right between you and Reese.”

      “Everything is perfectly fine between my husband and me,” Jacqueline primly informed her. She downed the rest of the merlot—finer qualities be damned—and set the glass on the table.

      “Good,” Tammie Lee said, “because Paul and I love you so much and our baby’s going to need her grandma and grandpa.”

      Somehow Jacqueline managed a smile. “So your mother actually ran the tractor over the mailbox?”

      “Twice.”

      “Twice?” Perhaps it was the wine, but Jacqueline laughed out loud.

      “Daddy wasn’t any happier about it the second time, either.”

      Jacqueline would bet not.

      “But СКАЧАТЬ