Betty hefted the gift with a little shake. “Awfully light for a million dollars.” She dug in before her father could tease again. When the wrapping fell off, she pulled out a small card. After reading, she stopped, stared at her parents and grew quite still. “The card says...oh, I’m not sure I can do this without crying. Here, Father, would you?”
“Oh, no.”
She put a hand on Barbara’s arm. “Barbara?”
“Me? If it’ll make you cry, my eyes will turn into Niagara Falls.”
“You have to.”
Going along with Mr. Judge’s feigned formality, Barbara lifted the card from Betty’s hand, straightened, cleared her throat and started. “It says: ‘Your mother and I will be leaving the factory to your brothers as they have worked it since they were small boys. You helped, to be sure, but we thought we might show our appreciation in another way for you and Teddy. If you will take a drive along the back of our acreage, you will see a small clearing near the peach grove. By the end of summer, a four-bedroom cottage will be completed there for you and Teddy to raise your family. Please accept this as Mother’s and my way of telling you how much you are loved and cherished. It is the last tangible thing we do for you as your parents, as your first family, before you and Ted become a new family unit. May God bless you and keep you both happy and strong in the years ahead. Your loving parents.’”
Teddy’s mouth hung open and Betty clapped her hands. “Oh, can we go see it right now? Please?”
Mr. Judge waggled his mustache before twisting the ends. “You’ve seen that property a hundred times or more.”
“Not since it was ours.” Her eyes filled when she looked at Teddy, stars more than tears appearing there. “C’mon, Barbara. You and Jackson come, too. Pretty please?”
Barbara offered Jackson a look that entreated him to join in. “She’s dragging out all the stops. What do you say?” If ever she tried to convince him to be sociable, this was it. Besides, there was something about Teo that made her uncomfortable.
Jackson waved a hand and shook his head. “No, sis. You go with Barbara. It’s been a long day.”
Barbara couldn’t miss the way he eyed Teo.
“Okay,” Betty said. “We’ll drag Teo along. He’s never seen the peach grove. And he’s never too tired to have fun.”
Jackson’s eyes darkened, darker than Barbara had ever seen them. Better not add to what Betty already said.
Mr. Judge chuckled. “Wonderful idea. You kids run along.”
* * *
Jackson heard them laughing when they came in around ten, stomping their feet at the back door. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t been able to sleep. Still trying to finish his new book, The Ox-Bow Incident, by Walter Van Tilburg Clark. He almost hadn’t bought the western when he had seen the name and thought of VanDusen. Silly to think of that now.
Voices drew him to the door of his room.
Betty’s call for reason. “Shh. We’re too noisy. Mother and Father.”
“Well, I’m not sleeping,” Will chimed in, no attempt to lower his voice. “I got stuck taking the trash outside and burning it. Thanks for the mess, sis. That was one huge box for such a small note.” Before long, he had joined them by the sound of it. They were all having a wonderful time. Without him.
What did he expect? He’d been invited; he had said no.
Jackson stuck his head outside the door. He should go downstairs and be sociable, but no, not with the Frenchman around.
Teo’s voice carried loud and brash up the stairs along with the faint scent of Barbara’s cologne. “Say, Betty. Isn’t this where your mother hangs the mistletoe at Christmas? Will you look at that? Miss Richardson is directly under the spot. What do you say, Miss Richardson?”
Jackson’s anger vaulted to the surface. His hand dug into his thigh.
“I’d say your imagination is working overtime, Mr. Barrymore.”
Good for you, Barbara.
Betty’s voice chirped with excitement. “How about a game of Monopoly? C’mon, Barbara. Let’s get the box. We’ll show you boys what for. Will, go grab some cookies and lemonade.”
Teo spoke with no reserve. “I thought we had a more interesting game of Post Office starting right here. What say we send Junior to bed and have a go?”
Jackson started toward the stairs when he heard Barbara’s voice raise a notch. “I guess that’s one game you’ll be playing by yourself, Teo.”
Good girl. Sensible.
“I’m not much of a loner, Barbara. My tastes run more to boy-girl, boy-girl.”
“I’m sure they do, but that little tidbit isn’t going to get you anywhere with me. You need to settle down for a board game or leave.”
The noise level quieted enough that Jackson decided he could sleep. Who was he kidding? He left the door cracked open so he’d be able to listen for any untoward complaints from the girls, and maybe catch a whiff of the flowery—lily of the valley?—cologne from time to time.
* * *
Each morning after breakfast, Barbara changed into her pants, rolled up her sleeves and forged ahead with preparations for the wedding, now closer than the women would have liked. Less than a week.
Mrs. Judge had engaged a woman from church to help get the baking done for the reception. Molly, according to Betty, was an Irish grandma who often hired out for parties, arriving early and staying late. Barbara had been short on patience most of her life, but Molly proved an endless well of endurance as days passed tying ribbons, clipping flowers and baking honey cakes and pies from last year’s fruit canning.
So Barbara found herself this morning in the kitchen, as usual, working on her second pie crust. The delicious fruit mixes were finding their way into one succulent pie after another.
Molly reminded her, “Don’t waste a speck. We haven’t any extra shortening. We’ve borrowed all we can for this wedding. Thankfully, Mrs. Judge thought to buy extra before the rationing started this month.”
“Will we have enough for all these desserts?”
“We’ll make do. A little less sugar, a little more honey. Some applesauce in place of shortening.” She leaned toward Barbara with a smirk on her face. “I know every trick there is, darlin’. Never you fear.”
“I can tell. I never would have thought of making peanut brittle with honey. And it’s so good!”
“That it is. If all else fails, the guests will fill up on good homemade peanut brittle.” She laughed and started singing again, as she did most of the day.
* * *
Jackson struggled to place the last fifty-pound container outside the gazebo opening. “There, the last pot of flowers. Dad, do you suppose Bets will visit you folks often?”
“Us folks? You make it sound like you and Will won’t live near. You boys have plans to skedaddle out of town?”
Jack dug into another smaller pot, lifting the plant and shaking it free of dirt. He’d loosen the roots and transplant it into one of the larger containers. “No, I just wondered if you thought she’d stay close to you and Mother.”
“I figure she’ll have to. She’s only going to be half a mile away. Would be nice if one day all you children lived close enough that my grandchildren could play together in the yard between. Make forts like you youngsters did. Have snowball fights followed by big pans of chili and some of Mother’s lemon meringue pie. Mmm. The outcome’s almost worth getting pelted with an ice ball. Summers when you and Betty would come home soaking wet from the lake leaving puddles over your mother’s freshly waxed floor. Jackson, those are memories that will be with me until they lay me to rest. And longer, if the Lord’s willing.”
Jackson slapped his father’s back. “Don’t plan on that nap too soon. I’d like to have you around for a while.” He stopped. Thoughts nearly betrayed him.
A small rabbit skipped over the wooden floor of the gazebo, rose on its haunches, stared at them and dropped down but remained in the gazebo. Jack shooed it with the tip of his boot. His father joked about rabbit stew
, and still the creature stayed, not trembling, not ready to bolt. Like Barbara. Even though Jack had pushed her away, she had stayed, small and helpless.
Helpless? She was anything but helpless. She was a tyrant. Attila the Hun out to have her own way no matter who tried to stop her. Helpless my foot.
“Get out of here.” He ran at the rabbit, stomping his boots as he went. The creature skittered faster than a streak of lightning, only a small white tail left to flick its goodbye. He had to find a way to make Barbara run away, even if he scared her.
* * *
Barbara’s nose twitched at the heavenly aroma of fresh cherry pie cooling on the metal rack. Molly passed on the water spray followed by sugar and glazed them with a honey wash instead until they were a deep golden brown. Barbara salivated, wanting to dig in right away, unladylike or not. “So you say we can eat this one? You’re sure?”
Mrs. Judge gave her a look, nothing more. The same expression her mother heaped on her and her sisters when they dared to disobey. “I meant at supper, of course.”
Betty laughed at the exchange.
Barbara grinned at Mrs. Judge, dashed to her side and hugged her. “I’m not so much trouble here, am I?”
“Lands, girl. You’re no trouble at all. We’re enjoying every minute of your visit.”
Teo crossed through the doorway and perched on the edge of the table. “You talking about food again? Keep that up and you’ll be as big as my Aunt Lois.” He drew a large circle in the air and chuckled.
“Shame on you,” Barbara said.
He leaned over the pie, broke a corner of the mouthwatering crust and popped it between his lips. “Wonderful.”
Mrs. Judge’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t get the hint. He picked another piece off the edge of the pie. She untied her apron, dropped it over the back of a chair and left a chilly air in the kitchen.
Betty scooted after her mother. A glance over her shoulder told Teo she wasn’t very happy with her future brother-in-law. “Behave.”
Teo turned an innocent glance at Barbara. “What has their bloomers all knotted?”
“What did you say?” Barbara shook her finger. “Teo, you have a very fresh mouth.” She reached over and slapped his hand away from the pie.
He tipped forward and touched the end of her nose. “Your bloomers in a knot, too? Anybody ever tell you you’re cute when you’re angry?”
Before she realized what she was doing, she drew back her hand, but he caught it. Holding her fingers tight, he pulled them to his lips. “There’s only one thing I’d like more than cherry pie.”
She whipped her hand back. “Well, good luck with that!”
Sprinting for the stairs, the sound of his laughter drove her steps forward.
A hand reached out as she passed the upstairs landing. Jackson squeezed hard. “You look like a hornet that’s got its stinger stuck. Would you like to tell me what happened downstairs?”
If she told, there would be trouble, and that might spoil the wedding. Maybe Teo had just been kidding around. “Nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day baking in a hot kitchen. How about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are the plants all in place? If you’d like, we could walk outside later and look at them.”
He withdrew his grasp as if she’d scalded him. “I don’t think so. Glad you’re all right.”
I’m not all right. You’re making me crazy.
Chapter 9
Later that evening after his last bite of pie, Mr. Judge groaned with satisfaction. Barbara laughed. There was truth in the old saying about food being a way to a man’s heart.
“Cherry pie. My favorite.” He licked the edge of his fork and smiled. “Always has been my favorite. I could sit here all night until that tin is empty.” He put down the fork, pushed back his sleeve and checked his watch. “But you young folks have been cooped up too long readying things for next weekend. Only five more days. I’ve never seen harder workers. How about a night out on me?” He reached for his wallet.
Barbara glanced from Betty to Jackson. What did a night out mean to Mr. Judge? Maybe that was a sneaky way of saying there were more chores this evening.
Will’s face broke into a silly grin. He knew. “Anything special on your mind, Father?”
“I thought maybe a picture show followed by root beer sodas. My treat.”
“You bet.” Will jumped out of his chair, stared at the clock on the hutch, and shouted, “C’mon. We’ve only got half an hour before the first show starts. Babes on Broadway. Man, I really wanna see that. Mickey Rooney.”
Betty leaned toward Barbara. “My brother, the movie aficionado.”
Will turned, face creased. “The what?”
“Never you mind. Get washed if you’re going with us. I’d die if anyone saw you with cherry pie on your chin.”
“Aw. C’mon, sis. I washed before dinner.”
She planted her foot, hands on hips. “You’d think you were still a child the way you behave.”
He swiped at the red goo and started to wipe his hand on his pants. “I’m not a child and you know it.” Only his tall stature belied the truth of her comment.
“William.” Mrs. Judge leveled a look that said he might be missing more than the movie if he didn’t straighten up.
Betty rolled her eyes. “And put on a clean shirt.”
To Barbara’s disappointment, Jackson excused himself and headed for the hallway behind Will.
“Not going, old man?” Teo leaned back in his chair to see around the corner. “We’ll miss you.”
“I’m sure.”
Betty dashed to his side and whispered in his ear loud enough for Barbara to hear. “Please, Jackson. You know we’ll have more fun if you go, too.”
“I don’t think so, Bets. Maybe next time.” He pushed around her and strolled to the stairs.
“There won’t be that many next times.” Betty’s face wore the hurt of a disappointed sister. “I’m getting married in a week.”
Catching the look, Barbara stepped forward. “The movie’s supposed to be a lot of fun. What do you say?”
She heard someone sneaking up behind her. Hands covered her shoulders and the culprit spoke up loud. “And I heard rumors Judy Garland’s very fetching. Wouldn’t want to miss seeing her fill the big screen now, would you?” Barbara stepped out of Teo’s grasp.
Jackson turned, leveled a gaze until Teo backed away from Barbara.
Teo mumbled. “Only saying—”
She was grateful. Teo had no right to be pawing her.
“I know what you were saying. And implying. Good night all.” He stopped and glared over his shoulder. “Ted? Be sure and take Will with you. Wouldn’t want the kid to miss a night out with Barbara as his date.”
* * *
Will balanced his bag of popcorn precariously in one hand. Teo did his best to slide past Will toward Barbara, but she held her ground. No way would she make room for the braggart next to her.
“And I graduated with honors at the University of Michigan. You should have seen the rest of the guys, pea green with envy. I ran the fastest mile, jumped the highest hurdles...”
Tuning him out was as easy as tuning a radio. One minute listening, the next so much static. Now here they were, Teo trying to make Will feel every bit the kid.
“I think I’ll sit right here, Teo,” she said.
“Just thought you might want to be seen with a man.”
“Will is a man.” She wrapped both arms around Will’s elbow and glared at the screen. Then she peeked at Will out of the corner of her eye.
With his mouth full of popcorn, and a face redder than the wool seats, Will tried to speak. “W-whulph?”
“Hey, could you keep it down?” A man’s deep voice shouted over Barbara’s head. “Some of us wanna see the screen.”
Teo slumped, spilling half his box of corn. “Never mind.”
Relieved, Barbara smiled to herself, let go of poor Will’s arm and relaxe
d. The popcorn was yummy, the picture was wonderful and Will’s skin tone returned to a healthy hue. However, he moved as far to the other side of his seat as possible.
But the movie ended too soon. Heading toward the lobby, Betty and Barbara lagged behind the boys, commenting on each of the outfits Judy Garland had worn. Betty confessed she wished she could look like a movie star. “What a voice, and such a fashion plate. And her hair, it’s always so perfect. Like she just stepped out of Vogue.”
Teo shaped an imaginary hourglass with his hands. “That’s not all that was so perfect, eh, Teddy?”
“Enough, Teo.” Teddy wadded the paper sack into a ball and, taking aim, tossed it in the trash. “We have ladies with us.”
Teo’s head rose a step above the rest of them. “Man, you guys are about as much fun as the Arizona.”
Barbara froze. Heat rushed up her neck all the way to her ears. “What was that?” Her hand flew up to stop him from answering. “Don’t repeat it. I know exactly what you said.” Her voice had risen sharply. “You’re disgusting.”
People stared. But Barbara didn’t stop. “Didn’t you pay attention when the newsreel played? Didn’t you see the devastation from Pearl Harbor? We’re at war. This isn’t some game being played. I thought you a bit arrogant, but I never before believed you were truly cruel.” She slapped his hand away. “Until now.”
He grazed her elbow again and looked rightfully contrite. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He gazed at the hostile faces around him and lowered his head.
“It strikes me as funny that you haven’t enlisted, Teo. Healthy, strapping man like you.”
His face paled. “I said I was sorry. What do you want?”
Barbara couldn’t miss a snort and a huff from a man and woman not five feet away.
Some service boy’s parents, no doubt.
* * *
Jackson’s bed groaned under him. A feather pillow, the quilt he’d had since a child and a good book. He switched on the lamp. If only life could be as simple as a novel.
With Eyes of Love (Heartsong Presents) Page 8