Reclaimed (25 page)

Suzanna stared at her mother. Insulting her, that was one thing. Taking a cut at her friend?

Mother met her gaze with a raised brow. “What?”

She swallowed and focused on carving the turkey. The knife cut in deep, and more than once she got it caught in the bone.

“Well, I see I’m not being helpful.” Mother came to her feet and drummed her manicured fingers against the back of the chair. “William’s show will be on in a few minutes. I’ll just go see what channel.”

“I don’t have a satellite dish, Mother.”

“I should hope not. They’re ever so expensive, and I know the burden Jason left with you. Cable carries RFD-TV.”

“I live fifteen miles from town.” Suzanna covered the meat slices with foil and turned to the beans. “Cable doesn’t make it out this far.”

“But it’s a new show.” Mother slid her hands to her tiny waist. The one she’d been so excited to show Suzanna the second she stepped from her Lexus LX. “
Tada!” She gushed as if it were a wonderful surprise for Suzanna. “Compliments of the
Rock It Like An A-lister
diet plan. I’ve brought you a copy.”

Indigestion set fire in Suzanna’s chest. Miserable from the first hello. Whatever did the woman want?

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sure William recorded it, and you’ll be able to catch up.”

Mother groaned, and her foot scuffed the floor. A grown-up version of stamping her foot. This was her mother. “Oh, phooey. William will ask what I thought; he’ll be so disappointed.” She stepped closer to Suzanna’s work area. “We fought about me coming out here, you know.”

Suzanna glanced up as she continued to wash the beans.

“Oh yes. He was quite against it. Such a long drive for a woman by herself, and for what? There’s nothing out here. But, no, I said. My little girl is out there. I couldn’t let you spend another holiday alone.”

Sure you could. Did it last year just fine. And I only lived thirty minutes away.

“I’m sorry you fought, Mother. You shouldn’t have on my account. I would have been fine.”

“Oh…” Mother’s shoulders sagged as if sandbags had been lashed to her arms. “I just couldn’t, Suzanna. This has gone on long enough. It’s time for some things in your life to change.”

Really? What things? If Mother was involved in her life at all, it was only to launch a full-fledged, meddling takeover.

Suzanna pushed a smile. “I’m glad to know you think of me.”

“Yes.” Mother spread her hands on the counter. “It’s time we had a talk.”

How pleasant. Should be a warm heart-to-heart. That was about enough. Heat climbed from her gut to her throat, and her hands began to tremble. “Mother, I’m—”

A hollow knock sounded from the side door. The hinges squeaked, and boots smacked against the tile.

“Hey, Pickle,” Paul called before he passed through the kitchen door. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

A happy intrusion. Suzanna was tempted to hug him. Kelsey trailed a step behind, her shy smile also a welcome reprieve and an appropriate target for her relieved affection. She wrapped both arms around the girl.

“Hey, Kelsey.” She kept her close. “How’s my best friend?”

Kelsey squeezed back, careful not to squish the package she’d brought with her. “We missed you at dinner.” She stepped back. “I have something I wanted to give you, and Uncle Paul agreed to bring me over.”

“I’m so glad.” Glad was an understatement. Could she pirate them for the rest of the day? How about for the entire long weekend?

“I painted this for you.” Kelsey held out the cloth-wrapped package. “Grandpa helped me.”

Suzanna grinned, knowing a canvas rested under the protective cloth. “Can I open it now?”

Kelsey nodded. Suzanna felt her smile grow, and her vision collided with Paul’s. His warm expression made her stomach feel like a freshly uncorked bottle of champagne; a thousand tiny bubbles popped delightfully in her middle.

Suzanna pulled at the wide green ribbon, and it slipped away like silk. She unfolded the plain cotton and turned the waiting canvas to discover Kelsey’s work.

An orchard. Row upon row of shrub cherries in full bloom stretched over a small rise that met a pale blue horizon.

Vision. Purpose. Excellence.

Kelsey had used a careful script to place the three words in the light blue sky.

Tears suddenly threatened to choke Suzanna. Her dream—her vision captured by Kelsey’s talent. How did she know what it would look like?

“I looked up some orchards online.” Kelsey explained. “This was so pretty, it made me think of you.”

Suzanna’s eyes caressed the portrait. So very well done by a wonderful kindred spirit. “I don’t know what to say, Kels.” She couldn’t draw her eyes away from the picture as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Kelsey’s arms wrapped around her waist, and Suzanna leaned to give her a proper hug. Mother cleared her throat. Oh yes. How could she forget? Suzanna fixed her posture and stepped back.

“Mother, this is my neighbor Paul”—she touched his shoulder—“and his niece, who happens to be my best friend, Kelsey.” She slid an arm around Kelsey’s shoulders.

“How lovely to meet you both.” Mother held a stiff hand out while keeping a noticeably awkward distance. “I am Katrina Pembroke.”

She was? So, they’d married. When, exactly, was that going to come up?

Paul stepped forward, closing the ridiculous gap Mother had maintained. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”

Mother eyed him with cool reproach. How dare he enter her circle of hallowed space without permission?
Oh, Mother.

Paul turned his attention to Suzanna, resting a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t keep you from your meal, which, by the way, smells really good, Suz.” His eyes caught hers and looked deep. Questions lay in them.
Are you okay? Can I help?

No, she wasn’t okay. If only he could help.

“Dre sent over a pie and a plate of cookies.” His fingers curled around her arm above her elbow. Stability. “They’re in the pickup.”

No offer to bring them in. Bless you, Paul Rustin.

“How nice. Tell her thank you.”

She moved to the door with her arm still draped around Kelsey and Paul’s warm hand near her elbow, ushering her away for a moment of peace.

Mother didn’t move. Suzanna could feel her sharp stare driving shards of disapproval into her back. She’d hear about this. Hopefully, the scolding would wait until Paul and Kelsey were gone.

They reached the truck, and Suzanna pulled Kelsey closer. “Thank you so much. I can’t begin to tell you how much I love it.”

Kelsey hugged her back before she hopped into the truck. “Will your mom be here all weekend?”

Suzanna shrugged. “I don’t know her plans for sure.”

“You could bring her over. I know Mama wouldn’t mind.”

Sweet little thing. Suzanna shut the door, keeping her eyes on her hands that rested on the open window frame. Paul came around from the other side, quietly waiting for Suzanna’s response.

“Perhaps.” She’d sooner set a badger loose in the Kents’ home.

Paul handed her a pie tin and a covered plate. He stepped toward the tailgate, and Suzanna matched his move.

“Everything okay?”

She tried to smile. It didn’t work. “Nothing ever changes.”

“Should we have stayed awhile?”

Suzanna met his eyes. “No, but thank you.”

Paul’s eyes trailed to the house, settling on the kitchen window. Without a doubt, Mother would be standing lookout. Glaring.

His attention came back, and a grin pulled on one side of his mouth, puckering a tiny dimple. “I haven’t felt eighteen in a while.” He slid a hand under the pie and brushed her fingers. “Thank your mother for me.”

He winked, and Suzanna giggled.

“Bye, Pickle. I’ll see you Sunday.”

For the first time in a month, Suzanna looked forward to church.

“You’ve put me off long enough.” Mother dabbed her mouth and then scowled at the paper napkin. “Look at this.” She waved the offending item. “This is the nicest restaurant in town?”

Sheesh. Like they needed to be eating out, anyway. Suzanna had stores of leftovers jammed in her refrigerator. She swallowed, her tongue raw from biting it multiple times over the past three days.

Almost done.

She need only make it through this lunch, and Mother would be gone. And tomorrow was Sunday.

Was she still looking forward to that? Pastor’s endorsement of Paul’s candidacy for elder had helped. Well, it had eased things up for him at least, which counted for something.

“Back to the issue.” Mother smacked the napkin onto the table. “When are you coming home?”

Home? What home?

“Mother,
this
is my home. I’m not leaving.”

“Just like your father. Stubborn to the point of stupidity.” She leaned in, her eyebrows stuck together. “What’s out here for you? How will living here gain you a life? Suzanna Korine, you have an opportunity to start over. Sell your father’s pathetic little farm and get a life you can be proud of. Go back to school; major in something useful.”

Suzanna’s chest quaked inside like the seismic tremors preceding a volcano. She cleared her throat, willing away the steamy tears that blurred her vision.

“I’m sorry I can’t meet your approval, Mother.”

The woman cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.

She met her mother’s cold gaze. “You always demanded perfection, and I could never attain it.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she snapped. “If you’d stop pining for a dead man and moping about things you can’t change, you would see the opportunity sitting in front of you. I know for a fact you’ve had offers. The banker himself told me your property would be easily sold if you would put it on the market.”

“The banker?”

“Yes, Suzanna, the banker.” She shook her head as though she thought Suzanna daft. “I know my way around business. Do you think I’d discuss this uninformed?”

Smoldering heat exploded. “You have no business here, and we have nothing to discuss. This
is
my life, and I’m not leaving because you don’t approve. Fact is, Mother, you’ve never approved of me, of Jason, or of anything else I’ve done.”

Mother gripped the table and leaned in. “My judgment has proven right,” she hissed. “What did your marriage accomplish? You’re worse off now than you were before. Buried in debt and running from memories. And
horticulture
? I warned you that you could do nothing with such an obscure study. Even if you had completed your degree, it would accomplish nothing. It’s time you start listening to your mother.”

“Yes, because your life has gone so smoothly.”

Mother sat back, her sharp brown eyes cold and calculating. “This is because of that farmer, isn’t it?”

“Farmer?”

“Your neighbor. I saw the two of you by his truck, shamelessly flirting in front of the child. And you, using her to win his affection.”

Suzanna raised an eyebrow and breathed a scornful laugh. “Paul? He’s not a farmer; he’s a rancher, and there’s nothing shameful about him.”

“That’s not what I hear.”

Oh good. Chuck made sure she was fully informed. Why was she surprised?

Suzanna crossed her arms. “You lived half your life in church. Surely you know how gossip works, Mother, and you’re hardly qualified to condemn. Shameless indeed.”

She held her mother’s challenge, her heart pounding and hands trembling against the building fury.

“He will lead you to ruin.” Mother snatched her purse. “Middle-aged men who are single are in that condition for a reason. Mark my words, Suzanna. You will regret this.” She jumped to her feet, knocking her chair backward. “Don’t call me to bail you out.” Mother stomped away, a fine ending to her perfectly dramatic scene.

Suzanna stared at the toppled chair. “I never have.”

Another pleasant family holiday.