"The devil quoting scriptures." The woman said sarcastically.
"How can you call yourself a child of a loving God and spout such vile comments?" he demanded, surging up from the chair."You have a daughter, your only child who needs you right now. She's carrying your grandchildren, doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"She's carrying the spawn of Satan! She got pregnant out of wedlock and is now trying to make things right by standing before God and witnesses to take vows. You're a disgrace."
"Ms. Wilcox." His voice was dangerously calm, his shoulders rigid. "You're the mother of the woman I love more than life itself and for that, I will allow your utter disrespect to slide by."
"But don't you ever refer to my children in that derogatory way again or I swear to the God we both know that I will come after you. And use that money you're so disdainful of to make your life a living hell. Am I getting through to you?"
"How dare you."
"You don't deserve a daughter like Leanne and she's much better off without someone as vituperative and evil as you. And my children will be a whole lot better if you're not in their lives. Good day to you." He hung up before he could say anything more.
His hands clenched and unclenched, his breathing rapid. Walking over to the trestle table, he poured a full glass of water and downed it in one gulp and even that wasn't enough.
He wanted to smash something. The woman was the most despicable human being he had ever had the displeasure of being acquainted with.
It amazed him constantly that Leanne had turned out to be the sort of woman she was, considering the awful home she came from. As much as she tries to deny it and him, he knew she was in love with him.
It was just so difficult for her to say the words, words that had never been said to her by people who were supposed to nurture her. It pissed him off and made him want to just run and snatch her against him and hold her for the rest of their lives.
He wanted to infuse her with so much love that she felt as if she was drowning in it. The vile words her mother had said to him were drumming viciously in his head.
How could a mother, someone who had carried a baby in her womb for nine months be so cold and unfeeling? He wondered in despair.
He couldn't possibly fathom such a thing. And he had naively believed that all parents or most of them were like his own. He was dead wrong.
But he was going to make it up to her, he vowed. Pouring another glass of water, he wandered over to the window. He would love her until she had no choice but to return the depth of love he was giving her. And he knew his family. He didn't have to ask them to embrace her. They were already doing so.
He turned his head and was not surprised when he saw his mother coming in.
"I just wanted to see how you were doing." Her eyes searched his face and saw her answer.
Keeping her considerable temper and need to jump into protective mode at bay, she came and stood next to him, staring out at the ice forming on the trees laid bare by the icy fingers of winter.
He continued to stare out the window. "She said some pretty nasty things. I suppose I expected it, but I wanted to try one last time. For her, you know?" he lifted his shoulders helplessly.
"I love her so much mother. I used to be a little amused and envious when I look at my brothers and how they were so besotted. That's what I called it. And when I look at you and dad, I realized that I wouldn't settle for anything else, but what you guys have."
"I found it with her. I never dreamed I could feel so much. It's like a tornado taking along everything in its path. I want to hold her close and erase everything bad that happened in her past. I would kill for her."
He put down the glass when he realized that it was digging into his palm. "She cried in my arms. Bitter tears, she could not control. Leanne is strong, one of the strongest women I know, except you." He glanced at her briefly.
"She's self-reliant, independent, and fierce. To see her crying like that, broken and vulnerable, broke me in pieces. I wanted to smash something, hurt someone." He sucked in a harsh breath.
"But I'm helpless. Christ Almighty, I don't know what to do for her. I don't know how to fix things for her. I know the way she thinks and standing at that ceremony with me, she will be acutely conscious that it would only be my family that's standing there."
"The one person, the only member of her family, her goddamned mother! Will not be there. How the hell am I supposed to fix it?"
Mary-Ann turned him to face her and tried to quiet the alarm in her own heart at the abject despair on her son's handsome face. He was her baby, will always be her baby, even though very soon he would have babies of his own.
"You can show her what it is to be loved thoroughly." She said gently. "That's the only thing you can do."
His face was shadowed and haunted. "The first time I touched her, she jolted because she's not used to it. When I tried holding her hand, she fought me as if I was trying to assault her. She's used to it now and doesn't try to get away."
He swallowed the lump in his throat. "For one tiny moment, I found myself wondering if she's eventually going to be like her mother, if she will turn away from our children." He shook his head when his mother opened her mouth.
"I know better. She's not like that woman. I'm going to have to tell her that I reached out. Yes." He correctly interpreted his mother's expression. "I have to. I decided several months ago never to hide anything from her. Complete transparency."
