“Wait till you see dessert,” Danielle said. “She made a red velvet cake and a lemon meringue pie. I intend to eat some of each. I haven’t allowed myself even a taste of dessert for what seems like forever. If I don’t lose the last of this baby weight from having Kit six months ago, I think Nate’ll probably pack up and leave.”
Liz opened her mouth, but one glance at her mother had her clamping her lips together and leaving the room. Don’t start a fight, she cautioned herself for the second time in a couple of minutes. Not on the very first night.
When she came back fifteen minutes later in shorts and a tank top, her feet bare, she drew a critical glance from her mother, but she ignored it. This was, after all, her home. She could surely dress as she wanted on a summer night. LeeAnn and Danielle, both wearing proper starched sundresses, eyed her enviously.
Dinner actually went surprisingly well, Liz thought, as the conversation covered the recipes for her mother’s corn pudding, her baked chicken and noodle casserole, and the fresh green beans and sliced summer tomatoes that she’d brought from her own garden. As they had for years, all three sisters teased their mom that she was leaving out ingredients when she passed along her recipes, just so theirs would never live up to hers.
“I would never do such a thing,” Doris Benson claimed, but there was a twinkle in her eyes when she said it. “After I’m gone you can go through my recipe box to your heart’s content and you’ll find it all written down exactly the way I’ve told you.”
“Sure,” LeeAnn said, grinning. “I imagine you covered your tracks pretty thoroughly. It’s Grandma’s recipe box I want to see.”
Liz laughed. “I never thought of that. Now, exactly where did you hide that, Mom?”
“If it even exists, and I’m not saying it does, you’ll find it long after I’m gone,” her mother retorted. “That is if you don’t just throw all the contents of the house into a Dumpster the way I hear Ginny Walker did with her parents’ things.” She shook her head. “I’ve never before heard of such disrespectful behavior.”
“Mom, Ginny lives clear across the country. I’m sure she saved things that held real memories for her and dealt with the rest the best way she knew how in the little time she had to clean out the house and get it on the market,” Danielle said. “You can’t fault her for that.”
“Well, I do,” Doris said stubbornly. “You treat my things that way and I’ll haunt the whole lot of you.”
“Now there’s a fun thought,” LeeAnn said, giving Liz a conspiratorial wink. “I can hardly wait. How about you?”
Since having her mother alive and kicking under her roof was problematic enough, Liz couldn’t imagine that having her haunting presence around would be much worse. “Think of the reality show we could do,” she said lightly, drawing a scowl from her mother, but chuckles from her sisters.
For just a minute, it seemed a little like old times, back before they’d all gone their separate ways, then gotten married and moved on with their lives. Liz took a moment to indulge in the nostalgic thought, but her mother interrupted, snapping her back to the present.
“Let’s talk about this Aidan Mitchell person,” she said. “I’m surprised at you, dating so soon after losing your husband.”
“Who said anything about dating?” Liz asked, her shoulders tightening with immediate tension. “We’re friends.”
“Any benefits?” LeeAnn asked hopefully.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Doris Benson said, seemingly unfamiliar with the term, but grasping that she wouldn’t approve.
Liz frowned at her youngest sister. “Really, LeeAnn, do you have to stir the pot?”
“It is fun,” LeeAnn said unrepentantly. As the youngest, she’d always delighted in getting her big sisters to lose their cool. Tattling about their boyfriends had been one of her favorite forms of entertainment until both Liz and Danielle had threatened severe retaliation.
“My point is,” their mother said, “that you should still be mourning the loss of your husband, not cavorting around with another man.”
“Nobody’s cavorting, Mom,” Liz said tightly. “And I think over a year is plenty of time to be in mourning.” She was not going to say that maybe Josh hadn’t deserved even that much, at least not from her, but once again she bit her tongue. At this rate she’d need stitches in it before they left town.
Why ruin their illusions at this late date? she told herself sternly. It was bad enough that her own had been shattered. Maybe, though, if she’d confided in them from the beginning, the burden of Josh’s infidelity would have been easier to bear and she’d have had the emotional support she’d denied herself. In her twisted thinking at the time, though, she’d thought she’d failed at marriage and hadn’t wanted anyone to know just how badly.
“He was the love of your life,” her mother persisted. “You’re not even around to go to the cemetery and keep flowers on his grave.”
“I’m sure his parents do that,” Liz said, refusing to allow her mother to heap more guilt on her shoulders. “Even if I were there, I wouldn’t be spending my time at his grave. Nobody does that.”
“I still visit your grandparents’ graves,” her mother said.
“Every Christmas and Easter,” Danielle reminded her. “You take a wreath at Christmas and a lily at Easter. It’s not as if you’re praying over them every day, the way you seem to want Liz to do.”
Liz regarded her gratefully, appreciating the unexpected support.
Danielle acknowledged her with a wink. “I’m just saying.”
Doris frowned at both of them. “I go more than that,” she insisted. “I stop by Josh’s grave, too. The headstone’s real pretty.” Once again, she regarded Liz with disapproval. “I still don’t understand why you left
