Camellia’s remarks felt like a put-down. Jonas covered Daisy’s knee with his hand. She didn’t know if that meant she should take Camellia’s comments seriously, or if she should let them slide. But she wasn’t in her let-it-slide mood.
“Since the tea garden is making a successful profit, I assume I’m targeting the right customers, and advertising in a way that brings them in. Can your company say the same? Or even the car company? It might be worth millions of dollars but has a red profit line.” She knew exactly the car company that Robert had been talking about. After all, she didn’t live with her head in the sand.
“I still say a small business in a small town isn’t the same thing as selling a national product,” Camellia protested.
Sean and Rose exchanged a look. Sean said, “Okay, daughters, how about if we pull out the desserts. Everybody can change seats around the table and talk to someone they haven’t talked to yet today. Sound good?”
Daisy felt a bit embarrassed. She shouldn’t let this sometime tension between her and Camellia come out into the open. She was actually surprised her mother hadn’t jumped in.
“Sure, Dad,” she said quickly. “We’ll stack these dishes, bring in more coffee and tea, and move around a bit.”
Tessa was holding Sammy, and he was sleeping in her arms. As Trevor stood behind her, the look in his eyes gave Daisy pause. He was staring down at the baby as if he might want one of those little beings in his lifetime. He hadn’t approached her with even one question about Margaret’s murder. Just maybe he and Tessa had more in common than Daisy had ever imagined.
At one point, as Daisy, Camellia, and Tessa took desserts to the table, Daisy noticed her mom and Aunt Iris had their heads together. They were looking at Vi, and Daisy wondered what that was about. Maybe they were just concerned for her. Maybe they were figuring out a babysitting schedule.
After everyone was seated again, with a slice of their favorite pie or the gluten-free chocolate cake along with their beverage of choice, Daisy found herself next to Vi with her mother on the other side of her daughter.
She heard her mother ask Vi, “Do you think the medicine is working?”
Vi didn’t take offense. She easily answered, “I’m sleeping better at night. I also seem to have a bit more energy. Not only that, but when I hold Sammy now, whenever I just look at him, I feel this bubbling joy and happiness inside of me. It feels like it could burst. It’s like bubbles in a champagne bottle. I feel joy.”
When Daisy heard Vi’s words, tears came to her eyes. That’s what motherhood should be—days of joy and caring so much about the little one that you knew you’d be connected forever through space and time and eternity.
When Daisy caught a glimpse of her mother, however, she didn’t see happiness on Rose’s face. She saw pensiveness that didn’t belong at the Thanksgiving table today. Rose glanced over at Iris, and Daisy wondered what the two of them shared that no one else knew.
Jazzi and Foster began a game of Scrabble as Iris took hold of Sammy next. Daisy organized the cleanup and insisted her mom didn’t have to help. Again, in an agreeable manner that wasn’t like her, Rose didn’t argue. Daisy expected her mom wanted another turn with Sammy. Vi and Trevor seemed to be having an animated conversation about the state of the newspaper industry and whether or not the Willow Creek Messenger would go online permanently and stop printing a newspaper.
At the sink as she washed the roasting pan, Daisy was aware of Camellia coming up beside her. Her sister had cared about hair and makeup and the latest styles. She wore her brunette bob in a sleek cut.
Camellia picked up a dish towel. “You didn’t have to put Robert down like that, you know.”
Daisy stopped scrubbing. “I wasn’t putting him down.”
“It sure felt like it,” Camellia shot back. “He’s too nice to come back at you with statistics and argument.”
“Camellia, we were having a discussion, pros and cons, what works and what doesn’t.”
“That’s just the thing, Daisy. He is an expert, and so am I. We live in New York City. You have a tea garden in Willow Creek.”
That was a put-down if Daisy ever heard one. “Yes, I have a tea garden in Willow Creek. Do you have a problem with that?” Letting the roasting pan sit in the sink, she faced her sister.
“You could have done anything with the life insurance money that came your way after Ryan died, but you decided to come back here, renovate some old barn, and start up a business that could go under in a year.” Camellia sounded as if that was exactly what was going to happen.
“The tea garden has been open over two years now and is in the black,” Daisy reminded her.
“Still . . .”
“You sound as if a barn home is a shack. We’re quite comfortable here. We designed it exactly the way we wanted it. Have you designed your home?”
“You know I live in an apartment.”
“I do. So I don’t understand why you’re suddenly looking down on what I started here.”
“You could have helped Mom and Dad at the nursery.”
Daisy almost couldn’t find words to respond to that observation. But after a heartbeat, she did. “And been their employee? I’m a grown woman, Camellia. I deserve my own life. I had my own life with Ryan.”
Camellia didn’t seem fazed by Daisy’s vehemence. She glanced over at Jonas. “Are you serious about
