Waking Up In Charleston. Sherryl Woods
a hundred times as the boys, trailed by their five-year-old sister, had gone out to explore this vast new space they had to play in, then rushed back in to tell her about everything they’d discovered.
Compared to the luxurious brick home they’d once had in an upscale Charleston suburb, or to Willow Bend, the gracious old plantation-style home in which she’d grown up, this three-bedroom frame house with its bright yellow siding could only be called cozy, and that was being generous. Even so, she loved every square foot of it with a passion she’d never felt for either of those other places, one that had been built on lies and deception and the other the home from which she’d been banished on her wedding day.
For one thing, she and the kids—even Susie—had poured their sweat and tears into building this home, along with the help of dozens of volunteers from their church and community. She’d made friends here, shared laughter. That counted for a lot. She viewed those exhausting but exhilarating days as a blessing, a promise that these rooms would always be filled with joy. She vowed she would never again take anything for granted as long as she lived in this house.
For another thing, she promised herself she would make this house into a real home, instead of the sham she’d unwittingly lived for years with Bobby O’Leary. Only when he’d died in a car accident had she learned the full extent of her husband’s betrayal. He’d pawned the few pieces of heirloom jewelry she’d owned and mortgaged their house and his business to the limit. Their credit card debt had been staggering. He’d cashed in insurance policies, too, so his death had left her no choice but to close the business and find work that could help her pay off the mountain of debt.
When she’d just about worked herself into exhaustion at two jobs to try to satisfy the creditors, and she and the kids were about to be evicted from their too-small apartment, she’d finally accepted that she had no choice but to declare bankruptcy if she was ever to regain some control over their financial future. A recent change in the law had made the process more complicated and dehumanizing than ever before, but Caleb had stood by her side every step of the way.
That humiliating day at the courthouse had sickened her, especially when she finally understood that Bobby had spent all that money in a wasted attempt to prove to her father that he was good enough for Amanda. He’d given her a lifestyle they couldn’t afford and left her with debt she couldn’t manage.
Oddly enough, even now when she was still working the same two dead-end jobs—one at a lovely boutique, the other at a superstore, when she had to deny the children anything more than the basic necessities, she couldn’t hate Bobby. He’d made those misguided choices out of love for her and to counteract the sense of inadequacy her own father had instilled in him. No, she didn’t hate Bobby. It was her father she despised.
William Maxwell, known far and wide in South Carolina Low Country as the benevolent Big Max, had been anything but benevolent when it came to Bobby O’Leary. He’d seen him as a no-account loser from the day they’d met and made no pretenses about it. He’d had big plans for his only child and they didn’t include a blue-collar husband he believed would only hold her back. He’d done everything in his power to keep Bobby and Amanda apart, and when love had triumphed over his objections, he’d accused Amanda of squandering all the advantages he’d given her. He’d sent her packing with a warning never to look to him to save her from the mess she was making of her life.
Her father’s unstinting disapproval had been one of the hardest things Amanda had ever had to endure until she’d lost Bobby. She’d never known her mother, who’d died giving birth to her, so from the time she was a baby, she and her father had been inseparable. He’d doted on her, taken her everywhere. She’d grown up sitting quietly in the boardrooms of some of Charleston’s biggest companies, not coloring or reading as some children might have, but absorbing the atmosphere of power around her.
Given that, she supposed it wasn’t surprising that her father had held such high expectations for her. He’d anticipated her getting a business degree, then putting it to use and replacing him in many of those same boardrooms, maybe even getting into politics one day. He had the contacts, the will and the raw ambition to make it happen. There was no limit to what he thought she could accomplish. It didn’t seem to matter to him that she’d never shared that vision.
He certainly hadn’t expected her to throw his legacy back in his face by marrying a garage mechanic. It didn’t matter to him that Bobby thought big and already had the beginnings of a small chain of well-run auto shops in half-a-dozen communities too small to attract the national companies. What mattered to Big Max was the loss of Amanda’s potential to follow in his footsteps. He couldn’t conceive of her achieving anything by the side of a man with grease under his fingernails. Her lack of ambition had appalled him.
Remembering the fight they’d had on the morning of her wedding still brought tears to Amanda’s eyes. Her father had tried one last time to make her see reason and she’d tried harder to make him see Bobby in another light. In the end, it had all dissolved into bitter accusations and her father’s vow never to see her again. Amanda knew him well enough to take him at his word. Big Max was known throughout Charleston for his stubbornness and pride, a bad combination for any man, but especially for one who possessed a share of power to go with it.
If it hadn’t already been too late, she would have grabbed Bobby and eloped, but Bobby had spent a small fortune to make sure she had the wedding of her dreams, even if it was over her father’s vehement objections. Friends she’d grown up with had accepted the invitations. Most of her father’s friends had not.
Filled with her own stubborn Maxwell pride, even though her heart was aching, Amanda had gone to the church alone, walked down the aisle alone with her chin held high and her eyes glistening with tears. In front of the minister, she had clung to Bobby’s hand as if it were a lifeline.
Bobby knew her heart was broken, not just on her wedding day, but every day thereafter, and he’d done everything he could to mend it. He’d even gone to her father after their first child was born, taken pictures of Max’s new grandson, but her father’s heart hadn’t softened. He tore the pictures up in front of Bobby’s eyes and uttered words no grandfather should ever say about his own kin.
Looking back, Amanda realized that was when Bobby had started going overboard. He’d begun buying her things to make up for Big Max’s intractable attitude. It had become his obsession to see that she and the children wanted for nothing.
Since Bobby took care of their finances, Amanda hadn’t had any idea of the amount of debt they were accumulating. She should have paid attention to the mounting bills, questioned him more about their finances, but she hadn’t wanted to indicate in any way that she didn’t have total confidence in him. Maybe she should have reassured him more often that he and the kids were enough for her, that she didn’t need more things as proof of his ability as a provider, but she’d assumed he knew that. She took for granted that he knew how to manage money. He’d been smart enough to expand his business; surely he could balance their personal checkbook. And basically he had, but only by mortgaging their lives to the hilt.
If only Bobby had known what fate had in store, he might have made better choices. Instead, they’d lost it all. Worst of all, she’d lost Bobby.
Now, though, she and the children had a second chance, Amanda thought, feeling at peace for the first time since Bobby’s death. With the soft afternoon sunlight spilling over her, she smiled. This room would fit into the pantry at Big Max’s house. She had little doubt what he would think of it. He would treat it with the same disdain he had shown when she’d made a desperate attempt to reach out to him after Bobby’s death had left her virtually penniless. She’d made that attempt only for the sake of her children, but being rebuffed once more had convinced her that the father she’d once adored was now only a bitter old man incapable of compassion.
“Doesn’t matter what he thinks or what he does,” she told herself fiercely. “My kids are healthy and this house is mine. We’re getting back on our feet and that’s what counts.”
And if Big Max couldn’t see that all his wealth, all his power didn’t amount to a hill of beans without love, so what? Amanda had