“On the mouth, sweetheart.”
She shook her head. “I mean, where in the house. Er...did anyone see us?”
“In the garage. And there was no one around. Your secret is safe.”
In the garage. She’d known it Susan turned to look at him, shielding her expression. At least Tallulah hadn’t slept with him. But the truth was almost as bad. Because enough of Lou remained in that foreign body that Susan was now trapped in.
Kissing Jack McGowan wasn’t “nothing.” It was the most powerful experience in Tallulah Abbott’s life, powerful enough that it crossed time and space and invaded Susan’s soul.
“You’re right,” she said. “It didn’t mean a thing.”
“So then why have you been running away from me ever since?”
“I have nothing to say to you. I’m getting married, ready to start life as a wife and a mother. Jimmy’s in the past Jimmy’s brother is in the past. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but it’s simply the truth.” The husky voice sounded calm and believable, but Jack didn’t seem convinced.
“You love Neddie?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve forgotten about Jimmy?”
Dangerous ground, when in troth, Susan knew nothing at all about Jimmy McGowan. She relaxed and let her instincts, which seemed to belong to Tallulah, speak for her. “I loved Jimmy,” she said. “But he’s gone, and nothing will change that I’ve let go of him. You need to let go of him, as well.”
She expected that would drive him away, but he simply nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m just not sure if I want to let go of you.”
Eight
Susan was never quite sure how she made it through that horrendous dinner. It helped that she and Mary were roundly ignored by the others. Elda Abbott had had just enough to drink to make her the glittering center of attention. She flirted outrageously with all three of the men, ignored her two daughters, laughed too loudly, talked too much and spilled cigarette ashes all over her untouched dinner.
Ridley Abbott spent the dinner in silence, glaring at all and sundry. His few attempts at conversation were terse orders to Susan to look happier, but since Elda snapped at him the orders went unnoticed.
Neddie was a busy man. He consumed huge amounts of the bland food, smoked between courses, drank steadily, parried Elda’s heavy-handed flirtation and cast constant, suspicious looks between Jack and Susan. Or Jack and Tallulah, Susan reminded herself. It was Tallulah they were all concerned with. Tallulah, who’d kissed her true love’s brother in the garage, who was about to many a bullying businessman with dubious ethics.
Jack didn’t say a tiling. Hadn’t, since that surprising remark out on the patio. Susan had never even heard of a Jack McGowan in her family’s life—whatever role he’d played, it had obviously been a minor one.
By the time the cook had begun to serve dessert, the air was blue with smoke, and Susan was feeling faintly nauseous. “I think Fil go to bed,” she murmured. “I’m not feeling well.”
“It’s early!” Neddie protested. “We need to talk.”
“Now, Neddie, can’t you see Tallulah needs her beauty sleep?” Elda said playfully. “You’ll have the rest of your lives to talk. You go ahead, darling, and take Mary with you. I’ll entertain the men.”
I’m sure you will, Susan thought, managing a tight smile. She pushed back her chair, and all the men rose, perfectly polite in their latent hostility.
“Come on, kid,” she muttered to Mary. “We know when we’re not wanted.”
Her room was chilly, but then, for the first time in her life Susan was having trouble getting warm. She sank down on the bed as Mary shut the door behind them.
“That bitch,” Susan muttered.
Mary looked completely horrified. “Women don’t curse!”
“I do. That woman downstairs is a bitch and a half, and I don’t care if she is yours and Tallulah’s mother,” Susan said frankly, kicking off the dreaded high heels.
“She’s not. Our mother, that is. You’re right about the rest of it, though. She is a—” Words failed her.
“Say bitch, Mary,” Susan ordered. “You’re old enough to use the right word when it’s called for.”
“She’s not very nice,” Mary said reprovingly, reminding Susan of the woman she’d become. Fifty-nine-year-old Mary Abbott never spoke ill of anyone if she could help it. “Our mother died before the war, and Elda moved in on Daddy when he was most vulnerable.”
