Oh. Longing swept me. John and I had spent our first night together at Carolina Beach. But the years when I could take off for the beach with nothing but a swimsuit and some sunscreen were gone. Nowadays, it was an effort to pack the twins to go to the grocery store.
“Aren’t you sweet. Thank you. But we’re going to Momma’s for Thanksgiving this year.” The way we did every year. John’s family wasn’t really into holidays. “Beth and Amy are coming home,” I added, by way of explanation. “And Momma’s invited Mr. Laurence and Trey.”
“Clever Momma,” Belle drawled. “Inviting the boss to dinner. Didn’t you used to go out with him?”
I flushed. Aunt Phee always said it was as easy to love a rich man as a poor one. But Momma wasn’t like that. Our parents had raised us to value love, not money.
Mischief seized me. I shook my head. “He’s a little old for me,” I said demurely.
“What are you talking about?” Belle asked.
“Mr. Laurence,” I said. “He must be seventy, at least.”
Sallie laughed.
“I meant Trey,” Belle said.
“He’s too young. It would be like dating my brother.”
“Or your brother-in-law,” Sallie said. “Remember? He and Jo had a thing for a while,” she said to Belle.
“Jo?But she’s so...” Belle took one look at my face and stopped.
Too late.
“Smart?” I suggested sweetly. “Sure of herself?”
“HowisJo?” Sallie asked, making peace. “She’s living in New York now, right? When is she coming home?”
“Soon.” Not soon enough. “Christmas.”
“Won’t that be nice.”
“Yes.”
“Well.” Sallie bit her lip. Glanced uncertainly at Belle.
Sallie and I had grown up together. Her birthdays had been a series of firsts for me: my first unicorn ride (a white pony with a glitter horn), my first spa visit, my first party with boys.
Three years ago, she had asked me to be in her wedding party. When I told her I was pregnant with twins, she’d been all concerned. How would I manage getting in and out of limos and being on my feet all day? What if the excitement sent me into early labor?
Belle was the one who told me a pregnant bridesmaid would just ruin the pictures of Sallie’s big day.
So I’d said no. The thought still gave me a pang.
Water under the bridge,Momma would say.
I smiled. “You all have a great time at the beach. Maybe I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Absolutely.” She hugged me tight. “Ned and I are having a Christmas party on the tenth. I’ll call you.”
And maybe she would, I thought, as I wheeled the stroller toward the market farm stands. Maybe John and I would have our night out after all. If Momma could watch the twins.
What would I wear?
I bought cookies for Daisy and DJ at the bakery booth. And one for me. Crunching away, I turned the stroller up the row toward Momma’s stall.SISTERS’ FARM, read the sign, after Momma and her sister Elizabeth, who had died when they both were just girls. But the tables were empty. Momma wasn’t there.
My stomach clenched. Mom wouldn’t miss the market the weekend before Thanksgiving. Unless her back was bothering her again.
