Welcome to Serenity

by Sherryl Woods

  Something in his voice alerted her that he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. “Why do you care what kind of impression I make? I’m a buffer, that’s it. It might be even better if they hate my guts on sight.”

  “Possibly,” he conceded. “But there’s no point in either of us enduring a ten-minute lecture on the lack of respect implied by tardiness.”

  “Agreed,” she said, amused.

  Her oddly upbeat mood lasted until she spotted Mr. and Mrs. McDonald—surely it had to be them—emerging from a shiny black car almost the length of a city block. They’d parked across the square from the town hall, which put them some distance away, but she knew in her gut she wasn’t mistaken about who they were. Her horrified gaze barely skimmed over the man, but the woman...she would recognize her anywhere. An image of that artfully colored blond hair, pale complexion and the arrogant lift to her surgically perfected chin was burned into her memory.

  “Those are your parents?” she asked. “Over there, getting out of that limo?”

  Tom shot a quizzical look at her. “Yes. Why do you look like that? You’re pale as a ghost.”

  “I can’t meet your parents,” she whispered, frantically trying to get him to release her hand so she could bolt. Why hadn’t she made the connection before now? It wasn’t as if she’d never heard his last name or didn’t know he was from Charleston. She just didn’t believe in coincidences, that was all. Or she hadn’t wanted to believe in this one. It had been too awful to contemplate.

  Tom was still staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Why can’t you meet my parents? Jeanette, what’s wrong? Is it the car? They have money. So what?”

  “It’s not the car,” she said in an oddly choked voice. “Believe me, that car is the least of it.”

  “Then, what? Tell me quick, because they’ve seen us, so it’s too late for you to run.”

  “It’s your mother, Tom,” she said, still struggling to break free. “I know her. And you do not want us face-to-face. You need to trust me about that.”

  He stared at her blankly. “You know my mother? How?”

  “Do you really want to waste time chitchatting about the details? I need to go before they get over here. I can explain later.”

  “Tell me now,” he said tightly.

  “I know her from Chez Bella’s in Charleston. I gave her a facial once.”

  He still looked blank. “Are you embarrassed about that for some reason? You shouldn’t be.”

  “It’s not about being embarrassed,” she said indignantly. “She sued Bella. Claimed I almost destroyed her skin. That suit could have cost me my job, my reputation. The only reason it didn’t was because Bella had heard that she’d done the same thing at another spa in town. She’s allergic to some ingredient. Her dermatologist has explained it to her, but for some reason she refuses to accept that she can’t have the same treatments that all her friends have, so she just moves from spa to spa, raising a ruckus along the way. She freaks because her skin breaks out in hives. Now, will you let me go before she and I have this out right here?”

  Tom was staring at her incredulously. “My mother sued you?”

  “Not me, the spa. She probably doesn’t even remember me, but I remember her. Now, let me go.”

  This time when she jerked away, he released her. Jeanette didn’t wait around to see whether his mother recognized her or not. All she cared about was getting away before she yanked the woman’s perfectly coifed, bleached blond hair out by its roots.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Who was that young woman and why did she run off?” Tom’s mother asked the instant they reached him. “She looked vaguely familiar.”

  Tom wasn’t about to bring up the Chez Bella incident, not until he’d heard the whole story from Jeanette. It would be just like his mother to make a federal case out of something like a skin rash, even if she’d been responsible for causing it by not disclosing her allergies. She’d had a habit of denying anything that didn’t suit her. It didn’t surprise him that she might ill-advisedly ignore her dermatologist’s warnings just to have the facial her friends were raving about.

  But if it had been such a big deal, why hadn’t Jeanette mentioned it before now? Surely she must have wondered if his mother and the woman who’d filed the suit were related, if not one and the same person. He had a whole lot of questions and no answers, so for the time being he just forced a smile.

  “She didn’t run off. She’s on my Christmas festival committee, so we were discussing a few details. She didn’t want to intrude on our family get-together. She knows we don’t have a lot of time.”

  His mother looked as if she wasn’t buying a word, but his father was clearly disinterested in the whole discussion.

  “So,” he said, a scathing note in his voice, “this is it? What we’re seeing right now is Serenity? Not much to it, is there?”

  “This is the downtown,” Tom said, trying not to sound defensive. “Those big-box stores over your way all but destroyed small, family-run businesses, but it’s coming back. The drugstore weathered the tough times, the hardware store has reopened under new management, and two other spaces have been leased since I got here. A clothing boutique is opening in one and a florist in the other. One of my main priorities is trying to attract a few more businesses into this area. And the local garden club has organized a beautification program. They’re installing all the pots of flowers at the doorways of businesses and will maintain them. Give us another couple of years and we’ll have this area rejuvenated.”

  “Waste of time,” his father scoffed. “These little shoestring operations can’t compete.”

  “They can under the right conditions,” Tom countered. Before his father could argue, he held up his hand. “Let’s take a tour. Would you like to walk through town hall? It was built in the early 1800s. It’s on the National Register of Historic Places. Someone in town had the good sense to fight to preserve it. All the renovations through the years have been done with great attention to the original detail.”

  His mother’s expression brightened. “I’d love to see it.”

  “Don’t know why you care about a pile of old bricks,” his father grumbled, but he kept pace with his wife and son as Tom described the Colonial-style architecture that had been the inspiration for the small, brick building with its white columns out front. It was set at one end of Town Square, right in the heart of what had once been the thriving hub of Serenity. Its sweeping lawn was well manicured, and several towering old oaks shaded both the structure itself and the carefully placed benches. The garden club tended the beds of flowers around the perimeter. Just recently they’d replaced the summer blooms with bright yellow chrysanthemums.

  Inside on the left was an open area where residents could pay their tax bills. On the right was a large meeting room for the monthly council sessions. A wide staircase toward the back led to the handful of offices housing town officials, including Tom’s large corner office overlooking the square. The office wasn’t huge or lavishly furnished by Charleston standards, but it was impressive just the same. And the furnishings had been chosen with care, most of them at least a century earlier. The desk immediately sent his mother into raptures.

  “Oh, just look at this wood,” she murmured, rubbing her hand over the smooth, dark surface. “It’s quite remarkable to be in this condition after so many years. It must make you think about all those who’ve worked here before you, Tom.”

  “Don’t know how you can get so worked up over a piece of furniture,” his father groused. “When are we going to eat? I’m starving.”

  Tom tried not to let his father’s attitude get under his skin. “If you don’t mind a little exercise, we can walk to Sullivan’s from here,” he told his parents. “There’s no point in moving the car.”

  “Whatever you say,” his mother said, then cas
t one last approving look around the room. “You know, dear, it would be so much lighter in here with new drapes. What do you think? I’d love to do that for you. Something bright, but tasteful, of course.”

  “I’m not sure I could accept that,” Tom said.

  “You can’t accept a gift from your own mother? That’s ridiculous. It’s not as if I’m expecting special treatment in return. I don’t even live here.”

  He smiled at that. “Okay, perhaps I’m being too much of a stickler for the rules. First let me see if anyone would object to new drapes for the town manager’s office. I’ll let you know.”

  Back outside, they set off for Sullivan’s, his father striding ahead, even though he didn’t have the slightest idea where they were headed. He finally paused at the corner and glanced back. “Right, left or straight?”

  “Straight ahead. It’s two blocks up on the left,” Tom told him.

  His father gave a curt nod of acknowledgment and walked on.

  “I don’t know what gets into him,” his mother commented with a rueful shake of her head. “He was looking forward to this, but he’s not going to admit that to you.”

  “I wouldn’t expect him to,” Tom said dryly. Anything less than a suite in the congressional office building in Washington wouldn’t meet with his father’s approval.

  His mother fell silent, her expression perplexed. “I still can’t get over the feeling that I’ve seen that young woman before. How odd, since I’ve never been to Serenity.” She brightened. “Oh, well, I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.”

  Tom hoped not. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to have some preconceived impression of Jeanette that she couldn’t get past. Then again, it was already plain as day that Jeanette held her own impression of his mother, and it most definitely wasn’t a good one.

  * * *

  “That woman all but accused me of deliberately scarring her for life!” Jeanette said to Maddie, still steaming from her near miss with Tom’s mother. “And to think that Tom is that awful woman’s son!”

  “You’re not going to blame him for what his mother did, are you?” Dana Sue asked as she put the finishing touches on a huge bowl of fresh fruit.

  “No, of course not, but can you imagine what would have happened if she’d seen the two of us together? She’d probably have skewered me with whatever sharp object she could find in her purse.”

  “I don’t think rich society matrons from Charleston carry a lot of sharp objects,” Helen said wryly.

  “You never met Mrs. McDonald,” Jeanette grumbled.

  “Actually I have,” Helen reminded her. “Years ago at a charity event.”

  Jeanette waved off the comment. “I’ll just bet she carries some kind of weapon around in that Gucci bag of hers.” She leveled a look at each of her friends in turn. “I hope this puts an end to any matchmaking ideas you all have. Clearly there is no way I can date the spawn of a woman like that.”

  Helen laughed, but then swallowed it guiltily. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Spawn? Who says that about a man, especially one as gorgeous as Tom?”

  “You know what I mean,” Jeanette retorted. “I cannot possibly date him, not when I want to stab his mother in the heart.”

  “You seem a little obsessed with the whole sharp-objects thing,” Maddie said. “Here, have a margarita. You’ll feel better.”

  “And you’ll be more mellow when Tom gets here,” Dana Sue added. “It’s probably not wise to let him see you like this, especially when the person you’re so worked up over is his mother.”

  Jeanette took a gulp of the very strong drink, but it did nothing to settle her nerves. Struck by a thought, she turned to Dana Sue. “They were having lunch at Sullivan’s. You worked today. Did you see them?”

  Dana Sue nodded reluctantly. “Tom introduced us.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged. “They raved about the food.”

  “Well, of course they raved about the food,” Jeanette said. “It’s fabulous. Watch your back, though. If her stomach gets the least bit queasy in the next twenty-four hours, she’ll probably sue you, too.”

  Maddie patted her shoulder. “You’re not getting mellow. Have some more of your margarita.”

  Jeanette took another swallow of the icy, tart drink and waited for the alcohol to kick in. “I should have confronted her, that’s what I should have done. Instead, I ran off like a scared rabbit.”

  “You were trying to avoid a scene that would embarrass Tom,” Dana Sue said. “There’s nothing cowardly about that.”

  “Besides, the lawsuit incident is behind you. Bella backed you up, so no harm was done,” Helen said. “Of course, if you want me to file a suit against her for defamation of character, I can probably do that.”

  Jeanette stared at her. “I can sue her?”

  “Well, you could have at the time,” Helen said. “I’d have to check the statute of limitations.”

  Maddie scowled at Helen. “Would you stop stirring the pot? Nobody’s suing anybody. The whole thing is over and done with.”

  Jeanette was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol at last. She sighed. “You’re probably right.”

  “Of course I am,” Maddie said. “Besides, a lawsuit would be bad publicity for The Corner Spa.”

  Helen winced. “I should have thought of that. What’s wrong with me? I’m spending way too much time at home playing mommy and not nearly enough in a courtroom ripping apart the bad guys. My head for business is turning to mush.”

  “We love the new, more serene you,” Maddie soothed. “You finally have some balance in your life.”

  As if on cue, Sarah Beth’s cries could be heard from the baby monitor on the kitchen counter.

  “I’ll get her,” Jeanette offered, wobbling just a little as she stood. “Boy, I really do need to move around.”

  She grew steadier as she walked down the hall to the baby’s nursery, which was as lavishly decorated as anything ever seen in a decorating magazine or designer showcase. Helen might have waited until her forties to have her first child, but she’d gone all out once she’d had Sarah Beth. Every piece of pristine white furniture was top-of-the-line. Every pink accessory had been chosen from the fanciest boutiques in Charleston. A dresser was filled with designer clothes that the six-month-old girl would outgrow in no time. And, like her mother, she already had an assortment of shoes for every occasion, from mary janes to tiny sneakers in every color of the rainbow.

  The baby had pulled herself to a sitting position, her blue eyes filled with tears. Her soft curls were in a tangle, her diaper sodden. Jeanette’s heart melted at the pitiful sight.

  “Hey, angel, looks to me as if you could use a diaper change and some fancy duds for the party,” she said.

  Sarah Beth held out her arms to be picked up, a tearful smile breaking across her face.

  Jeanette made quick work of changing her, then put her into the ruffled pink gingham dress that Helen had laid out. She added lace-trimmed socks and shiny pink shoes, then ran a soft brush through her curls.

  The interlude calmed her nerves and pushed the near miss with Mrs. McDonald to the back of her mind.

  “Okay, baby girl, let’s go to a party,” she said, picking Sarah Beth up and holding her close just to breathe in the powdery scent of her. The powerful emotions that swept through her whenever she held Sarah Beth, Jessica Lynn or baby Cole scared the daylights out of her. She wanted this. She really did.

  Just not enough to risk her heart.

  * * *

  It was after dinner before Tom was able to corner Jeanette alone in the kitchen. She’d been very adept at avoiding him and now he called her on it.

  “I have not been avoiding you,” she claimed defensively. “I’ve been helping Helen and Erik.”

  �
�The table’s been wiped clean, the dishes are in the dishwasher and everyone has an after-dinner drink,” he said. “I think they can spare you for a few minutes.”

  “Okay, fine. What do you want to talk about?”

  He gave her a wry look. “Gee, what do you think? The weather?”

  “I am not discussing your mother with you.”

  “Do you want me to get the story from her?”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard her version already.”

  “She didn’t recognize you,” he said.

  “Of course not,” Jeanette scoffed. “I was just some little nobody who ruined her life, at least for the day or two it took for the hives to go away.”

  Tom’s lips twitched.

  “It wasn’t funny,” Jeanette said.

  “No, I’m sure she didn’t think so,” he agreed.

  “I wasn’t exactly roaring with laughter myself. She could have ruined my career, Tom. Baseless accusations or not, Bella could have fired me and word would have spread about what happened and not one single reputable spa would have risked hiring me. Women talk. They spread the word about stuff like that, and pretty soon, there wouldn’t have been a spa in the state that would have wanted me anywhere near their clients.”

  “But none of that happened,” he reminded her.

  “Not the point,” she said, her tone unyielding.

  He studied her hard expression. “Bottom line—is this going to be a problem for us?”

  She frowned at that. “There is no us. There never will be.”

  “Really?” he said, trying not to smile.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I could prove you wrong.” he said, and watched indignation stir in her eyes.

  “Really?” she mimicked.

  He backed her up until she was trapped between him and Erik’s professional-grade Sub-Zero refrigerator. “Really,” he said, his gaze locked with hers. “Want me to tell you how, or should I just show you?”

  She swallowed hard and alarm flared in her dark eyes. “Don’t do this,” she whispered.