added, “Times ten.”
As Callie had predicted, lunch with Evelyn Henderson had been an excruciating experience. Sam had been raised in the South by an unaffectionate mother and a demanding father. He’d endured cotillions, mind-numbing dinner parties, and silent family affairs where disappointment and repressed anger hung in the air like the seagulls hovered over sand, dive-bombing anything that moved.
Yet lunch with Callie’s mother had felt exactly as she’d described it would. Like surgery without anesthesia. Except instead of losing his wisdom teeth, Sam felt more like he’d lost his liver. And surgery had been conducted with a butter knife.
“I’m really sorry,” Callie said for the fourth time since they’d dropped Evelyn at the cottage. They were sitting alone in his Murano in front of the Sunset Harbor Inn, both too shell-shocked to get out. “I tried to warn you.”
“She pinched my ass,” he said, still stunned by the unexpected attack. “I feel like I need a shower.”
Callie sighed. “I have to admit, I didn’t think she’d go that far. I knew she had it in her, but jeez.” Dropping her chin to her chest, she said again, “I’m so sorry.”
Then the absurdity of the whole thing hit him. And Sam started to laugh. Really laugh. Something he hadn’t done in longer than he could remember.
“Oh my God,” Callie said. “She broke you. Sam, are you okay?”
He laughed harder, nodding his head. “I’m fine,” he managed to say. “Just fine.”
Soon Callie was laughing with him. “I guess it’s better to laugh than to cry.”
As their amusement faded, Sam looked over to see diamond-blue eyes staring at him. Blinking, she said, “I needed that.”
Sam agreed. “So did I.”
“There is one bit of good news in this,” she said, choking back a giggle. “She’ll be gone tomorrow.”
Another round of laughter followed that statement. Clearly, they’d both lost their marbles, driven insane by a pushy Southern belle who believed the world danced to her tune. Sam could only guess what it must have been like to grow up as Evelyn Henderson’s daughter.
The thought snatched the laughter from his lips. Not that his own mother had been a prize, but she’d never embarrassed him in front of others. Or belittled him in any way. She’d simply set high expectations.
And Sam had done his best to hit every one of them.
Something told him Callie could discover the cure for cancer and Evelyn would have little to say except “It took you long enough.”
Unsure how to express what he was thinking, Sam blurted the words, “You’re pretty well adjusted considering that woman raised you.” Not exactly the best way to put it, but the words were true.
Callie took a deep breath. Her shoulders rose, then fell. She kept her eyes on her knees for several seconds, then faced him again, with a sad, self-deprecating grin this time. “Therapy does wonders.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe I should try it someday.”
“Let me know,” she said, reaching for the handle on her door. “I can recommend a good one in the Charleston area.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you aren’t the only one with a hard-to-please parent.”
Callie’s door remained closed as she turned back to him. “Oh yeah?”
Tapping on the base of the steering wheel, Sam nodded. “Yeah. Eugenia Edwards has some pretty high standards.”
The snort was unexpected. “Then you must have been her dream child. Intelligent. Handsome. Total overachiever.”
“True,” he said, attempting to make a joke. Callie’s laughter felt like a prize. “But I’m an overachiever out of necessity, not natural tendencies.” Sam didn’t know why he was telling her all this. He never talked about his childhood. To anyone.
But for some reason, he desperately wanted to make her feel better.
“I suppose I should thank her, though. Who knows what I’d be today if it weren’t for Mother’s high demands?”
“You call
As Callie had predicted, lunch with Evelyn Henderson had been an excruciating experience. Sam had been raised in the South by an unaffectionate mother and a demanding father. He’d endured cotillions, mind-numbing dinner parties, and silent family affairs where disappointment and repressed anger hung in the air like the seagulls hovered over sand, dive-bombing anything that moved.
Yet lunch with Callie’s mother had felt exactly as she’d described it would. Like surgery without anesthesia. Except instead of losing his wisdom teeth, Sam felt more like he’d lost his liver. And surgery had been conducted with a butter knife.
“I’m really sorry,” Callie said for the fourth time since they’d dropped Evelyn at the cottage. They were sitting alone in his Murano in front of the Sunset Harbor Inn, both too shell-shocked to get out. “I tried to warn you.”
“She pinched my ass,” he said, still stunned by the unexpected attack. “I feel like I need a shower.”
Callie sighed. “I have to admit, I didn’t think she’d go that far. I knew she had it in her, but jeez.” Dropping her chin to her chest, she said again, “I’m so sorry.”
Then the absurdity of the whole thing hit him. And Sam started to laugh. Really laugh. Something he hadn’t done in longer than he could remember.
“Oh my God,” Callie said. “She broke you. Sam, are you okay?”
He laughed harder, nodding his head. “I’m fine,” he managed to say. “Just fine.”
Soon Callie was laughing with him. “I guess it’s better to laugh than to cry.”
As their amusement faded, Sam looked over to see diamond-blue eyes staring at him. Blinking, she said, “I needed that.”
Sam agreed. “So did I.”
“There is one bit of good news in this,” she said, choking back a giggle. “She’ll be gone tomorrow.”
Another round of laughter followed that statement. Clearly, they’d both lost their marbles, driven insane by a pushy Southern belle who believed the world danced to her tune. Sam could only guess what it must have been like to grow up as Evelyn Henderson’s daughter.
The thought snatched the laughter from his lips. Not that his own mother had been a prize, but she’d never embarrassed him in front of others. Or belittled him in any way. She’d simply set high expectations.
And Sam had done his best to hit every one of them.
Something told him Callie could discover the cure for cancer and Evelyn would have little to say except “It took you long enough.”
Unsure how to express what he was thinking, Sam blurted the words, “You’re pretty well adjusted considering that woman raised you.” Not exactly the best way to put it, but the words were true.
Callie took a deep breath. Her shoulders rose, then fell. She kept her eyes on her knees for several seconds, then faced him again, with a sad, self-deprecating grin this time. “Therapy does wonders.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Maybe I should try it someday.”
“Let me know,” she said, reaching for the handle on her door. “I can recommend a good one in the Charleston area.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you aren’t the only one with a hard-to-please parent.”
Callie’s door remained closed as she turned back to him. “Oh yeah?”
Tapping on the base of the steering wheel, Sam nodded. “Yeah. Eugenia Edwards has some pretty high standards.”
The snort was unexpected. “Then you must have been her dream child. Intelligent. Handsome. Total overachiever.”
“True,” he said, attempting to make a joke. Callie’s laughter felt like a prize. “But I’m an overachiever out of necessity, not natural tendencies.” Sam didn’t know why he was telling her all this. He never talked about his childhood. To anyone.
But for some reason, he desperately wanted to make her feel better.
“I suppose I should thank her, though. Who knows what I’d be today if it weren’t for Mother’s high demands?”
“You call
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