The Pregnant Bride Wore White. Susan Crosby
all eight siblings had been told forever. To forestall any unwanted advice or recrimination, he stood. “I’ll go home right now and check.”
“Would you like to come to dinner?”
He forced himself to keep his voice level, reminding himself that she didn’t understand all he’d been through and that he needed time and space—something Keri had recognized. Score one for her. “Not tonight, okay, Mom? I’ll talk to you later.”
Jake scooped up the container of turnovers, then went out to his car. He headed up the winding road, again with no particular destination in mind, only a need for his previously unappreciated freedom, and solitude of his own choosing.
And yet ten minutes later he found himself pulling into his own driveway.
He had responsibilities he couldn’t ignore now, no matter what else was on his mind.
He could almost see his mother’s approving nod and feel his late father’s pat on the back, the weight of his responsibilities made even heavier by parental expectations—and those of his grandmother, who hadn’t yet had her say.
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