The Wife. BEVERLY BARTON
her actions demanding his attention. When he glanced at her, he realized she was practically in his face.
“Why don’t you come home with us?” Felicity asked. “Mom will fix us all lunch, and then you and I can study for our American History test together.”
“I don’t know.” Think of some excuse other than your grandmother is expecting you to come home. “I sort of promised Tyler that we’d hang out together later today.”
“So call him and invite him over. Mom won’t mind. She loves for us to have company, doesn’t she, Charity?” When her sister didn’t respond, Felicity punched the back of her sister’s seat.
“Uh, no, Mother won’t mind at all,” Charity said.
“I’m going home with Charity and spending the afternoon,” Missy told him. “I don’t like to disturb my father when he’s busy working on a sermon.”
“I…uh…sure, thanks, I’d like to have lunch with y’all.” Liar. You don’t want to have lunch with all of them, only with Missy. “But I need to give Nana a quick call, so she won’t worry. You know how grandmothers are.”
Seth fumbled in his pocket and managed to retrieve his phone without dropping it. Please, God, let Nana answer and not Granddad. Nana wouldn’t give him a hard time about not coming straight home. He understood that Granddad was strict with him for his own good, just as his own dad would have been. But sometimes he wished his grandfather could remember what it was like to be nearly sixteen.
Cathy looked at the address written on the notepad: 121 West Fourth Street. This had to be a mistake. That was the address for the old Perdue house. Hadn’t Mona mentioned something about that house being empty, that it had been up for sale for nearly six months? Maybe someone had bought the place, and the new owner needed interior-decorating advice, an extra service they provided at Treasures of the Past Antiques and Interiors.
“Is something wrong?” Ruth Ann Harper asked. “You have the strangest expression on your face.”
Cathy forced a smile. She liked Ruth Ann, who was married to Lorie’s cousin, the local First Baptist Church’s minister. Ruth Ann had been working part-time helping Lorie with the antique shop while Cathy had been at Haven Home.
“No, nothing’s wrong. I was just puzzled by the address. I didn’t realize anyone had bought the old Perdue house.” Cathy looked right at Ruth Ann. “Are you sure you wrote down the correct address?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And Lorie told you to ask me to meet with the client at four-thirty this afternoon at this address?”
“Yes.” Ruth Ann looked puzzled. “When she phoned from the auction in Fayetteville, I told her about the gentleman who had called and asked if y’all could help him with decorating his house. He said it was an old Victorian, that he was having some restoration work done on the place and he didn’t know anything about decorating.”
“Did he happen to tell you his name and if he and his wife would be meeting with me or…?”
“He didn’t mention a wife. And come to think of it, he didn’t give me his name. I think he thought I knew who he was. How, I don’t know. Local gossip, maybe.”
“I see. And you told Lorie which house it was? You mentioned the address to her, right?”
“Well, actually, no, I don’t think I mentioned the address. I just told her what the man had said, and she told me to ask you to meet with him since she wouldn’t make it back from the auction by four-thirty.”
“Oh.”
“Is there a problem of some kind?”
Cathy shook her head. “No, no problem at all.” She checked her wristwatch. “I’d better leave now since it’s already four-twenty. Would you mind closing up today? It would save me from having to come back instead of going straight home. Seth is coming for dinner tonight.”
“He’s such a fine young man. So well mannered and friendly,” Ruth Ann said. “He was at the house today for lunch. He came by with my girls and their friend Missy after exams. I think my youngest has a major crush on him. And God knows he’d be a wonderful influence on her. I’m afraid Felicity is going through a rebellious stage.”
“Good for her.”
Cathy didn’t realize she had spoken out loud until she saw the surprised expression on Ruth Ann’s face. Her dark eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a half-smile/halffrown, as if she was uncertain how to take Cathy’s comment.
“I’m sure you don’t have anything to worry about with either of your girls, not with the wonderful example you and John Earl have always set for them. I just think it’s good to allow teenagers to think for themselves and for them not to always be expected to do everything their parents want them to do.”
“Actually, I agree with you. Despite the slight embarrassment Felicity’s tattoos, outlandish makeup and black attire cause us, John Earl and I believe that allowing her the freedom to express herself will help her grow up to be her own person, a young woman we’ll be quite proud of.”
“You’re very wise. Your girls are so lucky to have a mother like you.” Cathy took the car keys out of her purse, hung the strap over her shoulder and headed for the back door. “See you tomorrow.”
Ruth Ann waved as Cathy left the shop.
She paused beneath the metal canopy over the door and looked up at the gray sky. The morning’s heavy rain had left puddles of standing water. The light drizzle falling now wasn’t discernible to the eye, but when she walked toward her parked SUV, she felt the light moisture misting her face.
With her consent, her in-laws had sold Mark’s Lexus and put the money in Seth’s college fund, and they had given Cathy’s ten-year-old Jeep Cherokee to Elaine, who had stored it in her garage.
“I had it serviced for you when I found out you were coming home,” her mother had told her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be driving, but I assumed you would. After all, you wouldn’t have left that place if you weren’t completely well, would you?”
Ignoring the comment about her mental health, Cathy had simply said “Thank you, Mother,” taken the keys and left. One of the many truths she had accepted while at Haven Home was the fact that Elaine Nelson would never change. She couldn’t change her mother, but she could change the way she reacted to her.
Cathy slid behind the wheel, started the engine and sat there in the alley behind the antique shop. During the eight days she had been back in Dunmore, she had met and survived several challenges. Not allowing her mother to intimidate her had actually been easier than she’d thought it would be. But facing her in-laws had not been easy, nor had accepting the fact that she would have to regain her son’s trust before she could fight the Cantrells for custody. One of the lesser challenges had been forcing herself to pretend she didn’t hear the whispers or notice the curious stares when she attended Sunday morning services yesterday. And whenever a customer commented about her year away and how horrible it must have been in that place, she simply forced a smile and told them it was wonderful to be home and back at work.
Of all the challenges that she had known she would face and could deal with, helping the new owner decorate the old Perdue house had not been one of them.
You can do this. It’s just a house. Mr. and Mrs. Reaves are both dead. Maleah lives somewhere in the Knoxville area. And Jack…
She gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled strength.
“Jackson Perdue.” There, she’d said his name aloud, and the earth hadn’t opened up and swallowed her. God hadn’t struck her dead. “Jack.” She spoke his name softly.
Cathy wasn’t surprised that Jack and Maleah had sold their mother’s house, considering how much they had both hated their stepfather and how quickly