by Ava Miles
Tammy’s spine went rigid. She stared unblinking at the woman whom she so resembled. “The children will never see Sterling again, Mama. He sold his family for a million dollars, and he has never once tried to see Rory and Annabelle, thank God. Having you and Marietta try and put lipstick on that pig isn’t going to change my mind.”
“Such language.” Mama stared at her, her eyes hard. “I don’t know who you are anymore, Tammy. Of all my children, you were the one most like me. I don’t know what’s happened to you. Do you actually think you have a better life now? People pity you back home.”
The muscles in her face tightened, and the burn of embarrassment spread along the collar of her yellow linen suit. “I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks, Mama.”
It wasn’t completely true, but she was trying, and it felt good to say. The silver tray shook when she picked it up. She wedged it against her stomach, the fluted edges digging in. “Our life is better now, and that’s all that matters.”
She was halfway across the kitchen when Mama said, “If that’s how you feel, you are even more lost than I let myself believe. Do you think you’re the only woman whose husband has ever stepped out on her? Affairs are not about you, honey. That’s what you don’t understand. Sterling always provided for you and the children. Now, you’re living on your brother’s charity without a man of your own to take care of you. Your children don’t even have a father. What are you going to do? Live here for the rest of your life with Rye and that Simmons woman?”
Feeling light-headed, she said, “I’m starting my own gardening business, Mama, so trust me when I say I won’t be living on anyone’s charity.”
“Your daddy mentioned that, and it’s nothing but a waste of his time. You’re only playing around with flowers and nothing will amount to it, you mark my words. It’s pitiful, Tammy.”
Pitiful? Pitiful? The shaking in her fingers bounced the china on the tray, causing the cups to crack together and ruin the perfect arrangement. The serving tray clattered to the tiled floor, sending coffee and shards of china everywhere.
Daddy appeared in the doorway then, and when he met Tammy’s eyes, his face darkened like a thundercloud. “Margaret, what have you done?”
Mama fingered her pearls without looking up. “Hampton, I can’t imagine what you mean. Go back to the dining room, darlin’. The kitchen is no place for a man.”
Crouching down, Tammy fumbled to pick up the broken china with shaking hands. Dear God, they would need new china. Nearly every cup and saucer was broken. And the coffee…
Her sister appeared beside her. “Why don’t you go freshen up for a moment, Tammy?” she said in a hushed voice. “Tory and I will finish this and get dessert on the table.”
Tammy shook her head. Was everybody in the kitchen to witness her shame? “But it’s her wedding breakfast. She’s the guest of honor.”
Tory, who had walked up behind Amelia Ann, crouched down and wrapped an arm awkwardly around her shoulders. “No, it’s fine. Go take a moment.”
It was then Annabelle shuffled forward and hugged Tammy. She clutched her daughter, pressing her face into the girl’s soft, silky hair, trying to hold it together, but all she could hear was that venomous word. Pitiful.
“It’s okay, Mama. It’s just broke. Nothing serious.”
That’s what she always told her babies when they had an accident, and it made tears well in her eyes.
She inhaled the sweet perfume Annabelle had begged her to spray on her wrists this morning. “Thank you for reminding me, sweetheart. I need to freshen up a bit. Will you help Aunt Amelia Ann and Aunt Tory for me?”
Her little girl nodded, her eyes huge in her face.
Tammy slowly stood, her bones aching. She quivered when she saw Rye’s angry face. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen now, his hands fisted at his sides. Rory stood beside him with the same expression.
“It’s all right,” she said to him gently, hoping to avoid further disaster.
Daddy led Mama across the kitchen, his hand gripping her elbow. Mama’s eyes bit into Tammy as she fled the room. She chose her own bathroom for an escape, needing the privacy. Sinking onto the toilet seat, she grabbed a towel and pressed it to her mouth. The pressure stopped the cries that were clamoring to get out. If she fell apart now, it would help no one, herself included.
She wet a washcloth and ran it over her hot neck, waiting for her pulse to level out. It took her a while to catch her breath, but she managed. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she admitted she was out of practice at holding in misery.
Part of her thanked God for that.
The dining room was as quiet as a wake when she returned. Rory was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, and he led her back to the table, a mutinous scowl on his face. She clutched her boy’s little hand and looked at her lap, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Instead she concentrated on arranging the napkin on her lap and smoothed it three times until it was perfectly straight. Then she raised her head and forced fake cheer into her voice.
“Shall we have some dessert?”
Everyone played along. Tory took the lead in conversation when Daddy went mute. He pulled his éclair apart without raising any to his lips. There were hard lines around his mouth and eyes, and he looked older than he had since his recovery from the heart attack. Everyone ate sparingly. No one asked for seconds.
Even Mama was quiet, a relief.
As if by pre-arranged agreement, everyone quickly rose from the table after a polite amount of time had passed. Mama announced she was heading to the powder room. Yes, her mama still called it that.
Everyone else took off for the family room, but Tammy hung back. Rye waited too and put a protective arm around her, then kissed her cheek gently. The gesture made her want to weep.
“Thank you, darlin’. It was a lovely gesture, hosting our wedding breakfast.”
They had come so far over the past year. He’d done everything he could to help her and the children. Yet, in the space of minutes in the kitchen, Mama had raised a spotlight on all the dark corners still inside Tammy, shadows she couldn’t escape.
Well, no one was going to pity her, least of all herself.
“I should have stuck to my guns and insisted Mama couldn’t come this morning,” he said. “What did she say to you?”
“It’s of no account. I love you, Rye,” she said, embracing him, voicing the words she’d only said to him a few times.
“I love you too, darlin’,” he whispered.
She forced herself to step back and meet his troubled gaze. “I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you for everything you’ve done for me and the kids.”
He grabbed her slight shoulders. “Don’t you dare let Mama affect you this way. I mean it.”
“But, Rye—”
“I won’t hear any more. There’s no need to say thanks. We’re family. You and the kids mean…everything to me.”
God, were those tears in his eyes? She had to blink furiously so her own wouldn’t spill over.
“I’m afraid this has ruined the beginning of your honeymoon.”
“Like that could happen with my beautiful bride.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I’m so glad. I only want the best for you and Tory.”
“We know it, and we feel the same about you. Come on now. Let’s finish this charade.”
When they reached the family room, Tory was playing with Rory and Annabelle on the floor. She and Rye exchanged a look that spoke volumes.
Amelia Ann popped off the edge of the couch and rushed forward. “Daddy said he and Mama are leaving right now. I’ve never seen him more upset. He all but dragged her upstairs to pack.”
Even though it was a relief, Tammy gripped Rye’s arm. “This is all my fault.”
“I don’t want to hear any more of that talk,” he said. “Mama is to blame for all of this. Heck, I should never have allowed her to come to the wedding in the first place.”
“We were tr
ying to keep that channel open, Rye,” Amelia Ann reminded him. “For Daddy’s sake.”
He scoffed. “Like it did any good.”
Her sister hugged her and asked, “Tammy, do you want to talk about what happened in the kitchen?”
No. She didn’t want the rest of her family to know people thought she was pitiful.
“It’s nothing out of the normal, honey,” she forced herself to say. “You know Mama. Rye, I just want you and Tory to go off and have the best honeymoon ever.”
No one moved, so she walked over to the children and clapped her hands. “Rory. Annabelle. You ready to go outside and play?”
Annabelle jumped up. “Will you push me on the tree swing before you go, Uncle Rye?”
He picked her up and tucked her close. “You bet.”
Rory approached her with one of his red trucks fisted in his hand. “Mama? Are you okay?”
She forced a smile. “Of course, sugar. I have the best family in the world.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were playing with the children out on the lawn, Rory and Annabelle taking turns on the swing hanging from the giant oak tree. When Daddy came out to join them, Tammy couldn’t help but wonder where Mama was.
“I’m sorry to leave so abruptly,” Daddy said, “but your mama and I need to get on the road. It’s for the best.”
“We really appreciated having you here, Daddy,” Rye responded.
“I wouldn’t have missed it! You’re so lucky, son. I can’t imagine finding a better woman than Tory.” And with that, he gave his daughter-in-law a kiss and a hug, and then did the same with Amelia Ann.
When it came time for him to say goodbye to Tammy, he smoothed the hair back from her brow like she was a child again. “I’m sorry about your mama. More than I can say. I don’t want you to listen to a thing she said. This new confidence of yours is bright as a freshly coined penny, and it makes me so happy to see it. And I can’t wait to help you move things forward with your new business, starting first thing tomorrow. You’re going to knock the socks off your clients, honey. I just know it.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” she whispered, struggling not to cry.
“I love you, Tammy. You’ve done right by the kids and yourself. When you doubt that, I want you to look at them. They’re happier than I’ve ever seen them.”
She rubbed her cheek against his. “I do look, Daddy. Every day.”
“Changes are a good thing, even if they’re hard. I plan on making more of my own. I’ll call you soon.”
And with that he headed off to kiss and hug Rory and Annabelle. The hair on Tammy’s neck rose, making her feel as though she was being watched, and she turned to see her mama standing beside the gardenia bush at the edge of her gardens. Her silhouette was rigid, and after a moment she walked over to where the car was parked without a single wave goodbye. Not that Tammy had expected any different.
Daddy finally headed back across the lawn with a wave, and they all watched as he and Mama drove off. No one waved as they left, not even the children.
Rye slung an arm around Tammy’s shoulders once the car had disappeared in the distance. “Come on, honey. You need some cheering up. I’ll push you on the swing. It’ll be fun.”
“Ah…okay.” She’d never been allowed to swing growing up. Mama had always said it wasn’t ladylike or that boys might look up her dress.
Well, it was time to start doing everything her mama had ever warned her against—all within reason, of course.
Her brother steered her over to the wooden seat, and she wrapped her hands around the thick rope. The push he gave her was gentle, and she rocked forward in a slow, easy arc.
Annabelle giggled then, and the sound seemed to break all of the earlier tension.
“Mama, isn’t swinging the funnest thing ever?”
The wind rushed over her face as she flew closer to the blue sky with each push. Tammy knew it was upsetting her perfectly coiffed hair, but she didn’t care right now, not with the wind in her face and the world swinging beneath her feet. With one hand, she pulled out the clip that held her hair up and threw it across the yard, just because she could. It would scandalize Mama if she’d seen it, and that thought made her pump her legs for the first time.
“That’s right, honey,” Rye called. “Let your hair down.”
She planned to do just that and more.
Shaking out her hair felt decadent, and she closed her eyes and leaned back, the wind rushing over her face. As she flew through the air, so high she could have touched the heavens, she kicked her shoes off in another spurt of rebellion.
“Tammy Hollins. Aren’t those your new shoes?” her sister asked.
She felt the stirrings of a smile as she soared through the air again and then fell back down. The slight drop caused her heart to kick, but not in a bad way. In an exciting way, a forbidden way.
“Yes, they are, Amelia Ann. And, frankly, I don’t care.”
Rye and Tory would be gone for the entire summer. She would be alone with the children, and it was high time she started discovering more of what she enjoyed. Swinging seemed to top the list, but she’d only just gotten started.
“Higher, Rye,” she called out.
“That’s my girl,” Rye shouted and pushed her harder.
Her blond hair rushed around her face, and she decided to lean back even farther and stretch her toes all the way to the stars.
She had never felt more free.
Chapter 5
Tammy had started the day on a high after ordering her new business cards, but a luncheon with the Dare River Ladies Circle had deflated her good mood. Her back was stiff as an ironing board as she walked down the sidewalk through the muggy heat to her BMW. After being asked to show some photos from Rye’s wedding, her new acquaintances talked nonstop about how lovely Tory had looked and how beautiful Tammy’s children were.
All had been perfectly lovely except for one remark that had stood out. And it had been repeated so often Tammy had wanted to dab her napkin in her ice water and place it on the back of her hot neck.
You look exactly like your mother.
Being like Mama was the last thing she wanted.
When she reached her car, her perfectly coiffed image was reflected back at her in the storefront windows next to it. The face, hair, and dress all made her Mama’s twin. Her knees buckled. Leaning against the hot car, she welcomed the sensation of the searing metal meeting her chilled skin. Didn’t care if her lilac linen dress was smudged with dirt now.
Her eyes darted to a salon two doors down. She’d heard its name mentioned by some of the ladies at the luncheon as one of the best places in town.
It was past time for a change.
Moving before her courage failed her, she pushed away from the SUV and headed to the apple green door. The door chimed soothingly when she opened it, like raindrops set to an enchanting concerto. The salon had an earthy wood lawn scent, but underneath it, she could smell shampoo and hairspray.
The woman manning the white reception desk greeted her.
She took a deep breath. “I’d like to make an appointment, please.”
“For when?” she asked.
“Today, if possible.”
“You’re in luck. Normally we’re booked up three weeks in advance, but Marie just had a cancellation. Her client’s husband had a heart attack this morning, bless his heart. Can you come back in two hours?”
Tammy wanted to bite her French-manicured fingernails while considering. She knew she’d chicken out if she went home.
“Of course,” she replied with more conviction than she felt.
“Great, we’ll see you then. I don’t know if you’re planning on going home or staying around, but there are some lovely shops in the area.”
“Wonderful.” She watched as someone swept up locks of blond hair, the same shade as her own, on the hardwood floor. Her chest felt like she was in a metal compressor.
She could do this. She would do this.
&
nbsp; When she walked out, she had to breathe shallowly since she was light-headed. When the feeling finally passed, she looked around. The boutiques were upscale, and she knew Amelia Ann shopped here frequently, particularly at the edgier ones. If her sister hadn’t been at work at the law firm, she would have called her for moral support.
But perhaps it was better that she do this on her own.
Being responsible, she called her babysitter, Alice, to say she would be longer than expected, and entered the first of the stores Amelia Ann had raved about. She wondered if her sister had been using one of Mrs. Augusta’s methods: Drop hints until people do what’s best for them.
Radical Southern had a lush peach door. The clothes on the mannequins were too colorful for Tammy’s taste, but the fabrics were high quality and tailored. Most had bias-cut necklines as opposed to the conservative ones she wore.
Her sister’s wardrobe now boasted skinny jeans, tights, jeggings, and flowing skirts and dresses that symbolized her newfound freedom. Her work attire was different, of course, but even then her style was more New York chic than Southern debutant.
Tammy didn’t think she could pull off Amelia Ann’s look, but perhaps she could find something that would suit her better than starched linen dresses and conservative ladies’ suits.
By the time Tammy’s hair appointment dawned, she’d done some serious shopping. The women in the boutiques had been helpful, suggesting an array of clothes, as if sensing she was on a buying binge. Rye had given her a credit card months ago, encouraging her to buy anything she wanted, but she’d only used it for the kids and the house up until now, never for herself.
Shopping for herself had never felt so good. Taking the bull by the horns, she walked out with her newest outfit on—white Capri cotton pants and a turquoise cotton top with a bias cut. Her high-heeled gold sandals paired well with it, but she already planned to go shoe shopping to match her new style. It would be something special for Amelia Ann and her to do together. She shoved the bags in the car with a smile and breezed through the door to the salon.
The woman at the reception desk’s brows shot up to her highlighted hairline. “Someone’s been busy.”
