Sky had thought the same. But word had gotten around town about how good both the food and drinks were, and Lord, oh Lord, they were right. The coffee. The sweet tea and the pie. Even the turkey sandwiches were to die for.
“Now, what are you wearing to your fundraiser?” her mom asked.
Her father still looked unhappy, but that was Roger Williams. He liked to talk about whatheliked to talk about, and it wasn’t what he was wearing to her fundraiser.
“Well, seeing as you asked.” Sky cleared her throat. “I have this floor-length red dress—”
“I thought you’d wear yellow,” her mother interrupted. “Yellow suits you.”
Lord, give her patience. “I rented a—”
“You rented your dress?” Her father interrupted this time. “Skylar, if you’re struggling with money—”
“I’m not struggling with money. I just don’t need to buy a ball gown for one event when I can rent one.”
Her mother shook her head. “Sky—”
“You’re going to love it.” And if they didn’t, she didn’t really care. The event was about raising money for a dog charity, not pleasing her parents…which seemed to be an impossible task anyway. “What are you both wearing?”
Her mother straightened. “Oh, I have this gorgeous knee-length brown dress. It’s got tulle and lace and it’s just beautiful.”
“I’m excited to see it.” She looked at her father. “What about you, Dad?”
“I wanted to wear my black suit, but your mother—”
“Thinks we should match,” her mother finished. “So he’s wearing his brown suit.”
She laughed. At least it wasn’t justherthat her parents were trying to control—they did it to each other too.
“I think your photos will look lovely whatever you both wear,” she said, receiving a smile from her mother and ahumphfrom her father.
Then the corners of her mother’s lips turned down.
Sky frowned. “What is it?”
“I was just wondering whoyou’lltake photos with.”
Oh, man. Not this again. “Mom—”
“Just hear me out. I want you to be happy. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”
“Iamhappy.”
“You’re not lonely when you get home to an empty house? You don’t hate that you have to go to functions by yourself?”
Okay, she needed a break from this. “I’m going to ask Mrs. Gerald if I can leave these fliers on the counter.”
She left the table before either of them could stop her.
She tried to tell herself it wasn’t their fault. They’d both been raised to believe that every woman needed a man to take care of them. They’d met at church over forty years ago and never looked back. They wanted that for her, as well, but often forgot that she was her own person.
Honestly, some days she wondered why she’d moved back home.
Mrs. Gerald, the owner of The Tea House, stood at the front counter. “Hi, Sky. Is your coffee okay?”
“My coffee is great. Phenomenal, actually. I was wondering if it would be okay for me to leave some fliers on your counter for a fundraiser ball I’m organizing.”
Mrs. Gerald’s brows rose. “What are you raising money for?”
