“I smile all the time when I see you, too.”
“I know, Daddy, but you can’t marry me.” She flashed a grin then took another sip of her cocoa before continuing in a serious tone. “I think you need to marry somebody, Daddy. And I think Miss Anne would be a good choice.”
“You think so, do you?” he asked trying to hide his amusement at her logic.
She nodded.
“Why? Because I smile around her?”
“Uh-huh, and because she takes care of me.”
“Don’t I take care of you?”
“Yes, but you have to. You’re stuck with me.”
“Jennie!” Brad gasped. “Why on earth would you say such a thing? I’m not stuck with you.”
“Yes, you are,” she argued softly. “Mommy used to tell her friend she couldn’t go away with him because she was stuck with taking care of me. Now, she’s in Heaven so you’re stuck with me.”
Brad felt his jaw drop. Sarah was self-absorbed and liked her freedom, but he’d never imagined she would say such a thing around their daughter. Then the full impact of Jennie’s words hit him.
—couldn’t go away with him.
He closed his mouth and swallowed. Forcing down his shock, he patted the seat beside him. “Come here, Princess. I need a hug.”
“Here?” She peered at him curiously, but got up and came around the table. “Mommy said people shouldn’t hug in public places.”
Before Jennie’s birth, he and Sarah had agreed to never contradict each other in front of their child. If they disagreed, they would discuss the matter later, privately. Now, he reassessed the decision.
“Jennie,” he said as he pulled her up on his lap, “I disagree with what Mommy said. I think people should hug every chance they get.”
“I like hugging,” she whispered as she settled into his embrace.
“Me, too.” He squeezed as tightly as he could without hurting her and felt her little arms wrap around his middle to return the embrace.
“Princess,” he murmured against her hair, “you are the very best thing that has ever happened to me. I loved you even before you were born. And I have never, ever, ever felt stuck with you. Do you understand?”
He felt her slight nod against his chest.
“Jennie, I love you very much. I can hardly wait to come home to see you each day. You might be my responsibility, honey, but it’s a responsibility I chose. I’ve never regretted it.”
He put a hand under her chin and tilted her face upward so he could stare into her eyes. “Princess, I know sometimes I don’t do a very good job of being a dad. I forget to do the laundry, and I don’t realize you need a different size dress. But it isn’t because I don’t love you. Sometimes, Daddy just needs a bit of help with such stuff.”
Jennie nodded, wisely. “Miss Anne would be a good person to help you. That’s why I think you should marry her.”
Brad chuckled at his daughter’s persistence. “I’m sure Anne probably would be good at remembering those things. But if she married me, honey, she’d have to take care of me, as well as you. And that’s a big job.”
“I think she likes helping. She sewed flags for your band. And made skirts, too. And she let me stay with her at the quilt shop and taught me to sew. And she fixed my Cinderella dress. And—”
“Yes, she’s been great about helping me,” Brad said, interrupting Jennie’s spiel. “But it doesn’t mean she wants the job permanently. Marriage is a very big step.”
However, even as he tried to convince Jennie he and Anne weren’t involved, a part of him wished they were. Miss Anne stirred the emotions in him which were increasingly hard to dismiss.
“Well, here’s my little family,” a familiar voice called. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”
“Aunt Bonnie!” Jennie exclaimed. She wiggled from her father’s lap and ran to greet her great-aunt with a bear hug.
“My, my! What did I do to deserve such an effusive greeting?”
“Daddy said people should hug every chance we get,” Jennie answered with a sunny smile. “I like hugs, do you?”
“I most certainly do,” his trim and stylish aunt said. Matching the gesture to her words, she stooped to give Jennie another hug and winked at her godson over the girl’s head. “So does Uncle Ted.”
After giving Brad a hug, too, she handed him her carry-on so she could take Jennie by the hand and spin her around. “I swear, young lady, you’ve grown another foot since I saw you last.”
“No, I didn’t. I still only have two feet.” Jennie giggled at the familiar joke as they headed to the baggage carousel.
Brad listened to the happy chatter between his aunt and daughter about school and the upcoming holiday. But his thoughts kept returning to his earlier conversation with Jennie. Sarah had been restless in their relationship after only a few months. She’d planned to travel the world, painting or writing, free to pull up stakes and move on when the spirit moved her. In fact, she’d told him the things he wanted in life — marriage, a home, and family — were anathema to her. The two of them never would have married if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. Life as a stay-at-home mom had to have been confining for a woman who’d longed to be footloose and free. But Sarah seemed to have adjusted, finding an outlet for her creativity in her various social activities and her online business.
Now, he remembered her evenings out and the many weekends when she’d gone off to conferences. Had it had all been a façade, an elaborate cover so she could go away with her friend? Sadly, he realized the thought didn’t shock him. What hurt was the knowledge Sarah had been so careless as to voice her dissatisfaction where Jennie could hear and be hurt.
“Earth to Bradley, Earth to Bradley.” Aunt Bonnie’s voice called him back to the present.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Bonnie, what did you say?”
His aunt gave him an odd look. “Is everything okay, dear?”
He slanted a glance at his daughter then back at his aunt. “We can talk about it later. Right now, let’s get your luggage and head home before the rush hour traffic gets too bad.”
Aunt Bonnie settled in like she’d never been gone. After stowing her luggage in the guest room, she returned to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Good grief, Bradley! I know your mother taught you better than this. Milk and leftover pizza? Applesauce but no fresh fruit? And the only vegetable I see is this half-wilted head of lettuce.” She closed the door and put her hands on her hips, frowning. “At least you have eggs. I suppose I can make pancakes or an omelet for our supper.”
“Sorry, Aunt Bonnie. We planned to eat out this evening. I was going to shop tomorrow and get groceries for the holiday weekend. I probably should have done it last night after you called.”
“Never mind, dear. We’ll do as you planned and go out to eat this evening. Tomorrow morning, I’ll drive you and Jennie to school then I’ll go to the grocery store. I’m going to cook up several meals and freeze them for you. It will keep me busy while you’re working and Jennie has classes. Then, the next time you’ve had a busy day, you can just pull out one of the meals and heat it up.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Brad agreed. “As long as you make a big batch of your chili for us, too. I’ll give you grocery money.”
“Of course, I’ll make chili. It’s my specialty. As for the grocery money, don’t be ridiculous. Your uncle and I are going to be here several days. If we’d gone to some stupid resort for the holiday, we’d pay through the nose for our room and meals. I prefer to spend my holidays with the people I love. End of subject. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brad knew better than to argue with his aunt when she wore the expression. She’d honed her debate skills years ago as a prosecuting attorney in Detroit’s busy court system. Now, as a District Court judge, she kept control of her courtroom with what he called her “here-come-da-judge” face, a quirked brow and a stern glare. Still, he didn’t want to take advantage of her. “I just feel guilty about not stock
ing up over the weekend.”
Her expression softened. “Bradley, you’re a busy man, and you’ve had to be both mother and father to your daughter. You’re doing a marvelous job with it. Jennie is a delight.”
She walked over to the breakfast nook, where her great-niece was coloring and tweaked one of the child’s blond curls. “However, we need to work on fattening up this little goose to put some meat on her bones.”
“No, thank you,” Jennie said, shaking her head. “I have enough meat. Miss Anne needs to be fattened up though, Aunt Bonnie. We should have her come for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Miss Anne?” Aunt Bonnie asked, giving Brad a look guaranteed to make him squirm a bit, even when he had nothing to hide.
“Anne Brown from the quilt shop,” he explained. “I told you about her when we visited you. She’s the woman who sewed the flags for the parade last weekend and the color guards’ new outfits.”
“And she went shopping with us to help me find my outfit for the winter concert at school. We got a dress and coat and shoes. Even underwear,” Jenny enthused.
“Anne came along since I couldn’t take Jennie into the fitting rooms.”
“How nice,” his aunt replied but her tone told Brad he hadn’t heard the end of this subject.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brad watched Anne as she moved around his kitchen, chatting with Aunt Bonnie and his mother as they prepared several pumpkin pies for the oven. It was unusual for his aunt to share the kitchen with anyone other than his mom. Even then, she always presided over it with same authority she used in the courtroom, delegating her sister to the simplest of tasks. Peeling potatoes. Making the salad. But with Anne, his aunt had relinquished control, or at least she shared it.
It was very curious. He’d expected Aunt Bonnie to grill Anne, give her the third degree. Where was she from? What did she do? How had she learned to sew and cook? School, parents, and all the things he’d wondered about, too, but hadn’t had the heart to ask. Most of all, he’d wondered what had caused the sadness which so often lurked in her eyes. He knew his mother was curious, too. He’d seen the surprise on her face when she met Anne. However, his mother and his aunt had engaged Anne in conversation, gently drawing her from her shell until they were laughing and ganging up on him when he tried to steal tastes of the holiday cooking.
Anne seemed animated and happy. Her eyes sparkled as she mixed the pie filling from memory, explaining she’d been making it since she was only a bit older than Jennie. He liked watching as her slender form moved through the kitchen, full of purpose and confidence. She turned to Jennie, asking if she’d like to help roll out the crusts. The sight of the two blond heads bent together over the task nearly took his breath away.
“Bradley, do you have those beans snapped yet? I’m going to need them soon for the green bean casserole.”
He blinked then checked the bowl of vegetables. Not even halfway finished. “I’ll be done in minute, Aunt Bonnie.”
He snapped like crazy. He certainly didn’t want to be blamed for Thanksgiving dinner being late.
****
Anne listened to the warm laughter and friendly chatter around Brad’s dinner table. She didn’t need to hear the actual conversations to feel the love shared by his family members. The happy sounds reminded her so much of meals with her grandparents she had to swallow past a sudden lump of loneliness.
Holidays had been much different when she’d been married to Jeffrey. Cold, formal occasions spent at his parents’ house. Gourmet meals prepared by a chef and served on fine china and crystal. Roast duck rather than turkey, asparagus tips instead of green bean casserole, and heaven help anyone who expected mashed potatoes or homemade stuffing. Every meal had been accompanied by huge portions of contempt for the uncultured girl who had married into the family. She’d learned to sit quietly, never offering an opinion for fear of being belittled by one of the Harpers, and to pray for the nightmare to end.
Remembering those times made her shiver. Why had she stayed at their table for so long? She knew the answer. Fear of Jeffrey’s retaliation. Compared to those days, spending quiet holidays alone was heavenly. She’d been quite content to make a simple meal and be alone. Then she’d received the unexpected invitation to join Brad’s family for dinner. A happy meal where everyone relaxed and conversed.
As she watched Brad’s parents banter with his aunt and uncle about their favorite football team, Anne realized how much she’d missed meals like this one. Not the comfort foods—she could do without them—but the love and camaraderie. Was being in hiding a worthwhile trade for never having a family like this?
Yes. She glanced at her plate, her appetite gone. There were much worse things than being alone.
Anne sat quietly, trying frantically to remember the deportment lessons Jeffrey and her in-laws felt impelled to give her at every meal.
“Sit up straight, girl, don’t slouch. You’re not on a farm anymore!”
“Place your napkin in your lap. Neatly, for goodness sake.”
“Not that fork! Begin with the utensils at the outside of your place setting. They’re put this way for a reason, you know.”
By the time the maid served the meal, Anne’s appetite had taken flight. But she’d learned enough by now to hide it. She cut her food into dainty little pieces she could push around her plate so it appeared like she did more than take nibbles. She just wanted to make it through one dinner party without recriminations. A part of her felt grateful for the lessons they gave her. Growing up, she’d never had the opportunity to learn fine manners, and she didn’t want to appear uncultured around Jeffrey’s friends, if and when she ever met them. Still, it would have been nice if the Harpers had recognized her efforts and rewarded her with even a tiny hint of encouragement. Instead, all of them, even Jeffrey’s young sister, delighted in her every misstep.
But she’d learn, hang it all. Yes, she would. She’d accept all their lessons, learn to be cultured and refined. But would she pay too much in the process?
“Anne, would you mind passing the rolls, please?”
Rolls? She startled and glanced around the table. Oh, there they were, right in front of her.
Anne quickly picked up the basket to hand to Brad’s aunt, but in her haste, she knocked one of the rolls from the basket. Time seemed to lengthen like one of those slo-mo replays in a sports broadcast. Aghast, she saw the roll bounce on the linen-covered table and nearly fall into the gravy boat.
“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry!” she apologized, feeling the blood drain from her face as time returned to regular speed once more. She hung her head, waiting for the reproaches.
But her former in-laws weren’t at this table. Instead, an adorable little girl sat on her right side, and the man who’d brought happiness into her life again sat across from her. At that moment, he glanced over and met her eyes. He smiled warmly then returned to the discussion of touchdown yardages with his father and uncle.
“Don’t worry about the roll.” The gray-haired woman on Anne’s left said. Brad’s aunt moved it aside then reached for the basket. “It’s my fault for piling too many in there.”
“We’ll never eat all of these,” Mrs. Carmichael added from the far end of the table, “but my sister hates to run out of anything.”
“I think she’s trying to fatten me up,” Brad’s uncle said, rubbing his slight paunch.
“I’d say it’s working,” his wife replied. The loving glance the couple exchanged reminded Anne of the special way her grandparents had always looked at each other.
“We’re lambs to the slaughter, Ted.” Mr. Carmichael announced and patted his own stomach with amusement.
“Talk about slaughters.” Brad’s aunt leaned forward and quirked an eyebrow at her brother-in-law. “What was up with your team last weekend? Someone should tell them to sleep after the game not during it.”
“Very funny, Bonnie,” Mr. Carmichael returned, good-naturedly.
Brad caught her eye acr
oss the table and gave her a little wink. Anne grinned and picked up her fork, the dropped roll all but forgotten.
“At least our quarterback can throw a pass without getting sacked,” she commented and joined in the friendly banter.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Brad glanced into the congregation from the front of the sanctuary, where he’d finished warming up the brass choir. He knew he should be focused on his responsibilities as their director, but his attention was divided between them and his young daughter sitting all alone in the front pew. He nodded encouragingly at her then turned back to his young musicians.
A little over a year ago, he hadn’t had to worry about what his daughter was doing. He’d been able to give his total attention to his liturgical duties, knowing Sarah could sit beside their daughter through the service. Or, more likely, they both would be at home. Sarah had seldom attended the church’s special events like this Thursday night carol service. Actually, she hadn’t come to the regular weekly services too often either. She had preferred lazy Sunday mornings, staying in bed to read the paper or watch the talk shows. After her death, Brad had cut back on his volunteer directing, so he could be with his daughter. On the mornings when he did lead the musical groups, he’d been able to leave his daughter in the care of her Sunday school teacher. This evening, however, Jennie was out there alone, and even though they were in the church sanctuary, it made him uneasy. What if she got ill or needed him?
A blur of motion at the side aisle caught Brad’s eye. He glanced that way in time to see a lovely blonde slip into the pew beside Jennie. A smile twitched the corners of his lips at the sight of Anne. He hadn’t been sure if she would be able to make it or not. But there she was, absolutely lovely in a simple blouse and long skirt. It was a far cry from the expensive ensembles Sarah had worn whenever she attended church, however, this outfit suited Anne. Her ivory shirt glistened in the candlelight, and her skirt flowed gracefully around her. So did her hair. She’d let it down this evening, and it glistened like a halo, falling in gentle waves around her delicate features.
The Friendship Star Quilt Page 18
