wouldn’t have to ooh and ahh over a long-dead, flea-bitten buffalo, but she was willing to do it, willing to murmur, “Oh, what a handsome buffalo,” if there was any chance it would please her daughter.
Maybe she and Hugh were too critical; maybe more praise and interest would oil the squeaky hinges of their relationship with their only daughter. If that didn’t work, Annabelle knew what would, though she was a little ashamed of herself every time she did it. There was one subject on which she and Belle completely agreed and that was about the young woman who was daughter-in-law to one of them and sister-in-law to the other. Laurie— bless her heart , she thought wryly—had a bonding affect on her female in-laws.
She walked into the vault and the sound of typing.
Belle sat at an ancient rolltop desk that she’d scooped up from a farm sale, clattering away on an old typewriter. She wrote articles about local history, geology, and archaeology and shot them off to dozens of different magazines hoping to be published. Now and then she got an acceptance and earned a little money.
“Can you stop for a minute, honey?”
Belle typed a bit more and then halted, making a show out of slowing and then stopping one reluctant key at a time.
She turned in her old leather and wood swivel chair.
“I’m pretty busy, Mom.”
“You look good sitting there, Belle. You look like a real writer.”
“I am a real writer.”
“I know, I didn’t mean—those photos out front are fascinating.”
“Which ones?”
“The sod houses?”
“They’re the weaker ones. I’ve got better.”
“Oh, well …” She resorted to her strongest weapon. “I don’t want to interrupt you. I just need to use your phone to call Laurie.”
“Why?”
Annabelle battled inwardly with her scruples and then brushed them aside in favor of coaxing warmth from her child. “I’m worried about her and Hugh-Jay, Belle. I don’t like the way she flirts with Chase.”
Belle’s eyes got big. “You noticed?”
“Who could miss it?”
“It’s ridiculous. I don’t know how Hugh-Jay stands it.”
“It’s got to stop.”
They looked at each other in pleasant agreement, but then Belle looked doubtful. “Shouldn’t Hugh-Jay be the one to stop it, Mom? And anyway, it’s not like she flirts only with Chase.”
“Who else?”
“Who doesn’t she?”
“I’ve never seen her flirt with Bobby. Oh, I hate even saying that!”
“She’s got her ways.” A look of disgust crossed Belle’s face. “She picks on him and insults him. That’s as good as flirting to Bobby ’cause it knocks him down and keeps him interested.”
She stared at her daughter, impressed at her perception.
“Has she ever flirted with Meryl?”
“Not when I’m around,” Belle said with an indignant and proud lift to her chin. “But Meryl says she tries it at other times.”
“Oh, honey.”
Her daughter’s face was flushed. “Don’t worry, Mom. Meryl always makes sure she gets the message that he’s not available, not even to her. ”
She felt a rush of compassion for her daughter who had spent her whole life in the shadow of a girl whose pretty face and vivacious manner got her everything she ever wanted. She remembered times when Belle looked as if she’d been crying after parties and other events when she was the wallflower to Laurie’s popularity. She recalled Belle’s barely hidden unhappiness when her oldest brother started dating, then got engaged, and then married Laurie. Thank God for Meryl Tapper , she thought, because he was the best revenge—a boy as nice as Belle’s own brother, and one who liked her exactly as she was, which wasn’t nearly as prickly when he was around to smooth her edges. When Meryl was with her, Belle was almost pretty, too, and her lovely complexion glowed with the pleasure of his attention. If Laurie ever did anything to threaten that happiness, Annabelle thought she would kill her.
Feeling guilty because
Maybe she and Hugh were too critical; maybe more praise and interest would oil the squeaky hinges of their relationship with their only daughter. If that didn’t work, Annabelle knew what would, though she was a little ashamed of herself every time she did it. There was one subject on which she and Belle completely agreed and that was about the young woman who was daughter-in-law to one of them and sister-in-law to the other. Laurie— bless her heart , she thought wryly—had a bonding affect on her female in-laws.
She walked into the vault and the sound of typing.
Belle sat at an ancient rolltop desk that she’d scooped up from a farm sale, clattering away on an old typewriter. She wrote articles about local history, geology, and archaeology and shot them off to dozens of different magazines hoping to be published. Now and then she got an acceptance and earned a little money.
“Can you stop for a minute, honey?”
Belle typed a bit more and then halted, making a show out of slowing and then stopping one reluctant key at a time.
She turned in her old leather and wood swivel chair.
“I’m pretty busy, Mom.”
“You look good sitting there, Belle. You look like a real writer.”
“I am a real writer.”
“I know, I didn’t mean—those photos out front are fascinating.”
“Which ones?”
“The sod houses?”
“They’re the weaker ones. I’ve got better.”
“Oh, well …” She resorted to her strongest weapon. “I don’t want to interrupt you. I just need to use your phone to call Laurie.”
“Why?”
Annabelle battled inwardly with her scruples and then brushed them aside in favor of coaxing warmth from her child. “I’m worried about her and Hugh-Jay, Belle. I don’t like the way she flirts with Chase.”
Belle’s eyes got big. “You noticed?”
“Who could miss it?”
“It’s ridiculous. I don’t know how Hugh-Jay stands it.”
“It’s got to stop.”
They looked at each other in pleasant agreement, but then Belle looked doubtful. “Shouldn’t Hugh-Jay be the one to stop it, Mom? And anyway, it’s not like she flirts only with Chase.”
“Who else?”
“Who doesn’t she?”
“I’ve never seen her flirt with Bobby. Oh, I hate even saying that!”
“She’s got her ways.” A look of disgust crossed Belle’s face. “She picks on him and insults him. That’s as good as flirting to Bobby ’cause it knocks him down and keeps him interested.”
She stared at her daughter, impressed at her perception.
“Has she ever flirted with Meryl?”
“Not when I’m around,” Belle said with an indignant and proud lift to her chin. “But Meryl says she tries it at other times.”
“Oh, honey.”
Her daughter’s face was flushed. “Don’t worry, Mom. Meryl always makes sure she gets the message that he’s not available, not even to her. ”
She felt a rush of compassion for her daughter who had spent her whole life in the shadow of a girl whose pretty face and vivacious manner got her everything she ever wanted. She remembered times when Belle looked as if she’d been crying after parties and other events when she was the wallflower to Laurie’s popularity. She recalled Belle’s barely hidden unhappiness when her oldest brother started dating, then got engaged, and then married Laurie. Thank God for Meryl Tapper , she thought, because he was the best revenge—a boy as nice as Belle’s own brother, and one who liked her exactly as she was, which wasn’t nearly as prickly when he was around to smooth her edges. When Meryl was with her, Belle was almost pretty, too, and her lovely complexion glowed with the pleasure of his attention. If Laurie ever did anything to threaten that happiness, Annabelle thought she would kill her.
Feeling guilty because
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