“Changing the subject when I get on the marriage bandwagon, huh? Typical.” She snuffled and muttered and finally remembered why she’d originally called. “I want to know if you’ve talked to Graham.”
“Graham?” Jason and his uncle Graham were hardly buddies. Closing his eyes, he thought back and realized that the last time he’d seen Graham was at Harrison’s wedding, and then it was only to shoot the breeze for a few minutes. “Why?”
“Because back when I was at the wedding, he told me that Meredith has still been acting as if her antenna isn’t quite picking up all the channels, if you get my drift.”
Meredith was Graham’s sister-in-law, and as the wife of Sybil’s nephew Joe Colton—the family’s original oil baron—Meredith and her personality quirks had become one of Sybil’s favorite harangues. Jason didn’t spend all that much time over at Aunt Meredith and Uncle Joe’s anymore. Not like he did when he was a kid. He remembered a sweet and loving Meredith who always handed out ice cream pops and let them ride their ponies on the lawn. She’d been the best.
But these days she was different. Edgier. Waspish. And these personality changes had come on suddenly about a decade ago. Too suddenly to be attributed to menopause or any other natural aging process. Without examining her himself, it was hard to say what was going on with Aunt Meredith.
“I don’t know, Gran. I mean I’ve heard all the hubbub about Meredith acting strangely—”
“Strangely? Sonny, that woman is out of her damned mind. Why, that car accident she had ten years ago changed her from Pollyanna to one of Satan’s minions. And she just keeps getting progressively more psycho. If you ask me...”
As Sybil nattered on, Jason leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. More time had been spent dissecting Meredith’s split personality than had ever been spent dissecting the atom, he was sure.
“I think you ought to get her into your office and run some tests on her. I wouldn’t be surprised if you took a picture of her brain and found that aliens had stolen it!”
Jason hooted. Grandma Sybil was a one of a kind character, and he loved and respected her more than words could say. The tiny old woman was as fiercely protective of her family as a she-bear. And, that Sybil adored her nephew Joe was no secret to anybody.
“Okay, Gran. I’ll send Aunt Meredith a notice that she’s due for a checkup, and see if I can’t figure out what’s going on.”
“Good boy. You were always my favorite grandson. Don’t tell Harrison.”
Jason snorted. She said the same thing to Harrison.
Sybil continued. “If you pop the question to that girl you fancy, I want to be the first to know. Call me,” she ordered, then abruptly hung up.
Jason groaned and flopped back against his pillow.
* * *
After church the next morning, Jason and Elizabeth went out to breakfast and then poked through antique shops for a lazy hour in Prosperino’s trendy Old Town section. A tourist Mecca, the warm Sunday in May had brought shoppers out in force to the delightful historic area. Everywhere, hanging flower baskets contained a colorful riot of blossoms, bright flags unfurled in the temperate breezes and large canvas umbrellas shaded tables that sat outside bistros for the best view of the sea.
On a whim, they’d ducked into a movie theater to catch a matinee. Elizabeth had been complaining that she needed to sit down and Jason didn’t want a repeat of the episode at his brother’s wedding. After the movie let out, they decided to shop for a while longer and, fingers laced, strolled down a shop-filled, tree-lined side street.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know that the girl who ran off with the drug dealer was really a man.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Okay, I had my suspicions, as she had a pretty healthy set of shoulders on her and practically no hips. But what really threw me was that part at the end, where you discover she’s really a dead FBI agent, come back from heaven, to convince that drug dealer to give up a life of crime. And the drug dealer is really the mother of that one child who traveled back from the future to save that other guy—who the heck was he by the way—from finding out that he was really the child’s biological father. I was so confused after the first ten minutes, I never caught up.”
Jason chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Well, if you’d have stopped tugging on my arm and asking me who everyone was every five seconds, you might have figured it out.”
“Oh, please. That movie was just an excuse to have a bunch of car chases and gunfire.” She groaned. “I hated it. I really used to like those kinds of action things, but now, I don’t know. This one scared me. I mean, do you really think the future is going to be like that? Is my son going to have to live in the basement of a burned-out building and fight to save the pitiful world from time-traveling, cross-dressing, gun-toting wackos like that gal with the pink hair?”
“Elizabeth, relax. It’s just a movie.”
Far from mollified, Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked up at him with real fear in her eyes. “Even so, Jason, it makes me realize how little I’ve done to prepare for my child’s future.”
“Elizabeth, we have just spent a month getting ready for him.”
“But we haven’t saved a single whale! And what about the rain forest? The shrinking ozone? Changing weather patterns, disease, pestilence, rising crime rates? Do you realize that I didn’t recycle a single thing this week?” She gripped his forearm and her belly brushed his as she faced him. “Jason, I’m suddenly worried about the future of our world!”
“That’s because you’re a mommy now.” He cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re supposed to worry.”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “You think so?”
“Isn’t it kind of obvious? Your maternal instincts are kicking in.”
‘‘They are?’’ A small smile played at her lips.
‘‘Mm-hmm. You’re not the first mama I’ve ever seen freak out over the future of the planet. But listen. You’re going to do your very best with this kid. And he will turn out fine. And it’s not like I won’t be there to help you defend him against the cruel world. You just say the word and I’ll be only too happy to beat up the class bully.”
“What if he is the class bully?”
* * *
“What do you get for the man who has everything?” Jason asked as they browsed through an antique shop that Elizabeth had been unable to resist.
“Who has everything?” she wondered, and held a bookend up to check the price tag.
“My uncle Joe. He’s turning sixty next month and his wife, my aunt Meredith, is throwing a birthday bash for him that Prosperino won’t soon forget.”
“Well...” Elizabeth paused and thought. Men were always difficult to shop for. “What kinds of things does he like? What are his interests? Hobbies?’’ She was dying to know more about his family, but was always reticent to ask questions that might lead to her blurting out the truth about the stupid feud.
Jason shrugged. “His hobbies? Making money. Taking in foster kids.”
“Hmm. Admirable hobbies, but a foster kid is hardly a birthday gift.”
“See? I’m telling you, the guy is impossible to buy for.”
“Don’t panic. Tell me about his life and the perfect idea will present itself.”
“For that, we need coffee.”
“Are you going to eat the rest of that pie?”
Elizabeth cast a longing look at her plate. “I shouldn’t.”
“Pass it over here.”
She obliged, even though she could have eaten a whole pie. They were seated on a deck outside a French bakery, just off Old Town’s main street. A green canvas umbrella shaded them from the sun’s slanting rays and a fresh breeze rolled off the ocean cooling the temperature to within a degree of perfect. Elizabeth held a cup of decaf coffee between her fingertips and listened as Jason regaled her with Colton family history. It was fascinating to hear about the family that ma
de up the other half of the legendary feud. At least as far as this century went.
She looked on enviously as Jason wolfed down the rest of her pie. “Let’s see,” he mused, chewing thoughtfully. “Where was I?”
“Your grandmother.”
“Oh, Sybil, right. Yep. You and she have something in common.”
Elizabeth lifted her gaze from her coffee mug to Jason’s face and tried to keep the skepticism from her expression. “We do?”
“Mm-hmm.” He pointed his fork at her. “You are both single mothers of sons.”
“Sybil was a single mom?”
“Among other adventures, yes.” Jason settled back in his chair and tossed his napkin onto his plate. “Sybil was always a maverick. She was born here in America, but preferred Europe. She attended Bryn Mawr and became a journalist.”
He tented his fingers beneath his chin as he described his grandmother. “She loves to tell about the times she visited salons and cafes in London, Madrid, Paris and Rome and rubbed elbows with the famous people of that era.”
“Like who?”
“Well, let’s see...” He closed his eyes and thought for a second. “Dropping names is her hobby, but with Sybil, you know she’s telling the truth when she tells stories about Hemingway and Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein and Virginia Woolf.”
Elizabeth’s jaw went slack. “Wow.”
“Yeah. She a wow kind of gal. She’s fluent in several languages and supported herself and her baby as a translator and reporter.”
“She sounds like a fascinating woman,” Elizabeth murmured, thinking that she also sounded intimidating.
“She is that. But she’s the type of personality that you really have to know in order to understand. Sybil is not afraid to call the kettle black, and that has ruined a few relationships in her time. Especially with her brother, Teddy. And, don’t quote me on this, but I have a feeling her fiery temper is the reason she never married my dad’s father.”
“She had a baby out of wedlock?” Sybil Colton?
Elizabeth stared at Jason and thought back to the regal dynamo at Savannah’s wedding. She’d never have guessed in a million years.
“She did. Although she doesn’t like to talk about it. She raised my dad, Frank, in a little village outside Paris and then he went to college here in the States where he met my mom, Shirley. They had me and Harrison when they were still pretty young. Together they built a business and today Harrison runs Colton Media Holdings. He seems to have inherited Uncle Joe’s touch for making money.”
“Ah. Uncle Joe. Family patriarch, oil magnate and the man who has everything.”
“Very good! You’ve been paying attention.” Elizabeth could tell he was genuinely pleased.
She tossed him an impudent look. “So, Sybil’s brother Teddy is your uncle Joe’s father?”
“Right.” Jason leaned back to let the waiter freshen his coffee. ‘‘Joe is the oldest of two boys. Graham is his younger brother. But they weren’t raised together. Joe was raised in a foster family.”
“Why?”
“His mom and dad were killed in a car wreck.”
“How awful.”
“Mmm. That’s a sad story.” Jason squinted off toward the spot on the horizon where the Pacific melded with the California sky and then, seeming to remember the original subject, turned his attention back to her. “But even though Joe grew up without his biological father, he knew he was well loved by the people that took him in.
“You know,” Jason said and his lazily hooded gaze became dark. Penetrating. “I don’t think it matters if the man who raises you is your biological father, or not, as long as he loves you as if you were his own flesh and blood.”
Elizabeth stared at his lips and felt herself go limp with sudden—and nearly unbearable—gladness. She had the strangest feeling that Jason was talking about his feelings for her own baby. “Y-you don’t?”
“Not at all. My uncle Joe is a prime example of how a man can teach a boy the art of being a man through love. His foster father loved him with all his heart, and Joe knew it. And because of that love, Joe has done great things for other children in need. He built the Hopechest Foundation for needy kids and fostered a bunch himself. Which just goes to prove that love really can conquer a lot.”
“Yes.” Elizabeth sighed, wondering if the love she felt for him could conquer the unfortunate past.
A slow, poignant smile tugged at Jason’s mouth. “You’d love my Uncle Joe. He’s definitely one of those inspiring rags-to-riches stories. He runs several major corporations and dabbles in oil now.” He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “You ought to come to his birthday party with me.”
“Oh, now that would create quite a little party icebreaker, you showing up with me and my pregnant belly.”
Jason laughed. “I think it would be great! For once people would have something to talk about other than my wacky Aunt Meredith.”
“Wacky Aunt Meredith?”
“That’s another sad story.”
Elizabeth squirmed in her seat and fiddled with the napkin beneath her cup. “I don’t suppose you know anything about where your family came from, originally?’’
Jason lifted and dropped a shoulder. “I’m not really up on the Colton genealogy beyond Sybil and Teddy. But Sybil would know. She’s a real family history buff. She could give you the lowdown, if you’re interested. She’ll be at Uncle Joe’s birthday party.”
“Oh.” She knew her smile was weak. “That would be...nice.”
Chapter 7
The shrill ring of the phone roused Elizabeth from the light doze she was enjoying in Jason’s new re-cliner. Another week had sped past, and it was Friday evening already. Her ankles and feet had been bothering her, so Jason had insisted on preparing dinner for them both in his newly decorated and outfitted kitchen.
The phone rang a second time and Elizabeth opened her eyes.
“Jason?”
She ran her hands over her face and listened. Silence.
“Jason?”
The phone rang a third time. Odd. It was then she noticed the note lying on the new end table next to her chair.
“E: Had to run to the store for ricotta cheese and salad dressing. I’ll bring a chocolate ice cream for the baby. J.”
Elizabeth smiled. She’d been craving ice cream, which was unusual as before her pregnancy she was indifferent to the stuff. Bending her knees, she pushed at the footrest and wrestled with the handle to the recliner. The baby was getting so big, the simple task of sitting up was becoming a major chore.
The phone rang again.
“I’m coming!” She flailed her way out of the chair and rushed to the kitchen just in time for the answering machine to pick up.
Muttering to herself, she searched for the off button, but recoiled and changed her mind about talking to the caller when she heard the unmistakable voice of Sybil Colton begin to crab after the tone had sounded.
“Jason, it’s me. Where the hell are you? Why is no one ever there when I call? If you are there, pick up this instant. I don’t have time to wait while you shilly-shally around doing whatever you freewheeling bachelors do with your evenings. Jason?”
Elizabeth’s lips curved ruefully. Sybil Colton was such a character. There was a noisy exhalation and Elizabeth could almost smell the cigarette smoke.
“I’m beginning to get the feeling that people are avoiding me. Anyway, I’ve called to give you some advice about Meredith’s mental state. I’ve been doing some reading and I want you to check her for a brain tumor when she comes to your office. According to the article I read, she is showing all of the classic symptoms. Get a picture of that brain and tell me if I’m not right.”
The old woman fell silent for a moment and again, Elizabeth could hear Sybil suck on her cigarette and then exhale into the phone’s mouthpiece, creating a crackling static.
“And I’m still waiting to hear some more details about this woman you’re dating.”
; Elizabeth froze. Jason was dating someone? Her heart thrashed about inside her chest.
“So far, I only know that her name is Elizabeth, and that’s not a whole lot to go on.”
Elizabeth’s hands flew to her mouth. Jason had told his grandmother about her? A curious mix of dread and elation curled around her heart. She leaned closer to the phone machine and fixed her gaze on the tiny speaker, as if this would help her better hear the old woman speak.
“I want details, boy! And please don’t tell me that you’ve picked up another social misfit from the wrong side of the tracks. I could have told you that Angie woman was all wrong for you the minute I laid eyes on her.”
Elizabeth glanced at her belly, then slid her fingertips into her temples and began to rub.
Sybil’s voice seemed to grow crosser by the minute. “So, who is this Elizabeth woman’s family?”
Uh-oh.
Tiny electrical pinpricks crawled across the flesh on Elizabeth’s body. This was not good.
“Where are they from? What’s their history? If you’re considering making this woman a member of our clan, I’m going to need more information!”
A member of the Colton clan?
Had Jason been discussing marriage with his grandmother? Elizabeth gripped the edge of the counter as Sybil gave in to another fit of wheezing and cursing.
‘‘I hate these damned machines. Jason, call me as soon as you get back from wherever the hell you are. I have another question about Emily.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes. Emily? Who was Emily?
“I want to know if she’s still having nightmares about that car accident she and Meredith were in. I heard she was dreaming that she wakes up in the car and sees two Merediths! One is an angel and one is the devil incarnate.” Sybil cackled. “That’s no dream! I saw that movie about the woman with all those different personalities. The mean one would come out and raise hell until one of the nicer ones could come back and smooth things out. Jason, you bring the old Meredith back before any other batty personalities decide to escape her belfry.”
Brides Of Privilege (v1.3) Page 25
