The House on Persimmon Road by Jackie Weger Read Free Book Online Page B

her lap. “But promise you won’t go anywhere without me.”
    “Cross my heart.”
    “I don’t think I like Philip doing that to Judy Ann,” said Agnes once the child was out of earshot.
    “Ooh-la-la. Listen to that,” crooned Pauline. “The overprotective mother has finally admitted a flaw in the greatest son in the world.”
    “I never said he was perfect.”
    “Only about a thousand times.”
    “I believe we have a house to put to rights,” said Justine. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
    “I’ll go make my bed,” said Agnes.
    “I think I’ll bypass the great room for today and arrange my bedroom, too,” said Pauline.
    “Wonderful!” said Justine. “That leaves me with the kitchen, the hall, the other bedrooms, the bath, and my office.”
    “I’ll cook supper if that will help,” volunteered Agnes.
    “Don’t allow it!” Pauline insisted. “We don’t know where the nearest hospital is yet.”
    Agnes thumped her cane as she began her exit. “At least I try, Pauline. That’s more than you can say.”
    Justine dropped her head onto her folded arms and began to mutter a satisfying string of expletives.
    The elder women exchanged a glance before making hasty retreats. Two seconds later Pauline poked her head around the doorjamb.
    “Now, I remember who Tucker reminds me of.”
    Justine lifted her head. “You’re wrong if you think I’m going to ask who.”
    “I’m telling you anyway. The Marlboro Man—if Tucker wore a Western hat—”
    “He can remind you of Gandhi, Churchill, and John Wayne all rolled into one, for all I care. I prefer you don’t mention his name in my presence ever again.”
    “Your bed is put together. Why don’t you take an aspirin and lie down. I’ll keep an eye on the children.”
    “I don’t need a nap and I told you I’d do my own bed. I don’t like the idea of that man handling my things.”
    “You always were one to cut off your nose to spite your face.”
    “It’s called having principles.”
    “Same thing,” said Pauline. “Oh, by the by, the unmentionable person isn’t married. Never has been.”
    “Maybe there’s something wrong with him.”
    Pauline fingered the pearls at her neck. “He told Pip that he’s thirty-six. That he’s had obligations to meet that kept marriage out of the picture. To me, that makes for a right-thinking man. Your father was almost forty when we married, and there was certainly nothing wrong with him. Not in the way you mean. Which brings me to this—of late you’ve seen only the worst in people. Had you had that kind of attitude a dozen years ago, you wouldn’t be in the predicament you’re in now.”
    “You’re deliberately rubbing salt in my wounds, Mother.”
    “Salt is an antiseptic, isn’t it? Helps to heal?”
    “Go make up your bedroom.”
    “I do love you, Justine. You’re my only child. I want to see you happy.”
    “I’ll get there. Eventually.”
    Pauline smiled slyly. “I do believe you-know-who was quite taken with you,” she said on her exit, getting in the last word.
    Justine inhaled, counted to nine, and exhaled on ten.
    “I’m capable, sane, and in control.” Saying the words aloud convinced her.
    Tucker Highsmith taken with her? Really? In the finest sense of that word? What a lot of drivel. The man just wanted an arm piece—or more.
    “Look, Mommy,” Judy Ann said breathlessly, entering the kitchen on the run. “I found a bucket.” She began at once to gather luncheon leftovers. “I’m gonna feed the chicks. They’re so cute.”
    “All right. Just don’t disturb Mr. Highsmith.”
    “I can talk to him, can’t I? He likes me.”
    “You don’t know that.”
    “I can tell.” She puffed out her little chest importantly. “He talks to me like I’m a person.”
    “I talk to you like you’re a person.”
    “No, you don’t, you boss me.”
    “That’s what mothers are for.”
    “He laughs. You don’t laugh anymore.”
    Justine winced. Agnes had made that