Jo handed Tori the juice. “So…congratulations. On the baby.”
Tori regarded her warily over the rim of her glass, then nodded. “Thanks.”
“How are you feeling?”
That got another should-I-trust-her? glance. “Fine, I guess.” She sat at the dining table, twisting the glass around and around with the fingers of her right hand. “I just had no idea I’d be so tired all the time. It’s like if I sit still for more than five minutes, I pass out. Work’s been a real bear. And I can hardly get any studying done.”
Jo leaned back against the counter next to the stove. “It’ll pass. The tiredness. Until the last month, which makes up for the previous eight.”
The grimace tightened. “Gee, thanks.”
Joanna smiled. “It’ll be worth it, though. Trust me—”
“You’re being nice to me because Bobby told you to, aren’t you?”
Of the many, many things Joanna could have said, the truth won out. “No. Even though he did. But I’m only telling you so you know he cares about you enough to make an idiot of himself.”
The corners of Tori’s mouth turned up before she took another sip of juice. “He can be sorta clueless sometimes, I guess.”
Oh, honey, I could tell you stories….
“You know we’re getting married, right?”
“Yes,” Joanna said, biting her tongue to keep from mentioning that Bobby had a habit of marrying the girls he got pregnant.
“Does that…does that bother you?”
“That he’s going to marry you? No. Am I concerned about his taking on more responsibility? I won’t lie and say I’m not.”
“You mean, that this baby might divert his attention from his other kids.”
Joanna shrugged, then said, since she couldn’t stand Tori’s suddenly stricken expression, “I swear, I do not have a problem with Bobby’s starting a new family. Not in theory, anyway. But it’s not going to be easy, his trying to juggle all of this—”
“He’s not stupid, you know.”
Ah, but Tori’s defense was admirable. Naive, but admirable. “Never said he was. And I honestly think, most of the time, he wants to do his best. I’m just not sure he’s ever figured out how.” She hesitated, then gently added, “All I’m saying is, be prepared to take on the bulk of the load for keeping things going. Because Bobby is one of those men who just can’t.”
“Then you really don’t love him anymore?”
Merciful heavens. Joanna didn’t know they made them this insecure.
“Let’s put it this way,” she said. “We had this big dog once, when I was a kid. In many ways, Dozer was a great dog, friendly and lovable and cuddly, but we finally had to get rid of him because no matter what we did, we couldn’t housebreak him, or stop him from jumping up on people. But he went to a good home, and even though I’ll always think of him fondly, no way did I want to live with him again.”
Tori frowned.
“But hey,” Joanna said, “we heard the people we gave him to worked wonders.”
The young woman seemed to consider this for a bit, then extended her left hand. “Did you see my engagement ring? I just got it last night.”
Her stomach jolting, Joanna leaned forward to dutifully admire the solitaire. It wasn’t a huge ring, maybe a half carat. But even a half carat—set in platinum, no less—wasn’t cheap, a knowledge gleaned from years of drooling over display cases. And in its facets, her new roof shimmered like a mirage.
“It’s lovely,” she said.
Smiling, even.
Joanna had been slamming things around in the kitchen for a good five minutes when her mother and Karleen came in, just in time to see her kick shut the oven door.
“She’s wearing her Kill Bobby face,” Karleen said to Glynnie, who nodded and said, “Things not going well, dear?”
It suddenly hit Joanna how much she’d really like, just once, to unburden herself to her mother. But she didn’t dare. So with a “Later” glance at Karleen, she said, “Nothing that won’t pass. Bad time of the month, is all.”
“Sweetie, I hate to tell you this,” Glynnie said, sliding up onto a stool on the other side of the breakfast bar, “but you’ve been having a bad time of the month for three years.”
“I have not!”
Karleen raised one hand. “Uh, yeah. You have.”
Joanna lifted her eyes heavenward. “Just one person on my side, God. Is that too much to ask?”
“But we are on your side!” Karleen said, then looked at Glynnie. “Aren’t we?”
“Of course we are,” Glynnie said as Joanna tromped across the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator door, hauling out tubs of potato salad and coleslaw. “But then, maybe if you’d stop pretending things are always okay when they obviously aren’t…”
“Everything’s fine, Mom.”
“Tell that to the innocent appliance you just kicked. Here I am, giving you an opening to tell me what the problem is, but you clam up…”
“Oh, goody,” Karleen said, climbing up onto the bar stool next to Glynnie’s and snatching a carrot stick off the veggie tray in front of her, stopping just short of cramming it into her mouth when she realized both women were staring at her. “This brings back so many memories, when Mama and I used to fight. It just hasn’t been the same since she died. And besides,” she added when Joanna gave her the don’t-you-have-someplace-else-to-be? look, “if you tell Glynnie now, you won’t have to tell me later.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Uh-huh,” Karleen said. “And that little bauble twinkling on Tori’s left hand has nothing to do with your foul mood, I don’t suppose.”
Understanding dawned in Glynnie’s eyes. “Bobby gave Toni—”
“Tori,” Karleen said.
“—an engagement ring?” Joanna glared at Karleen as her mother added, “Well, I suppose that’s to be expected, if they’re engaged. Or am I missing something here?”
“My guess is,” Karleen said, carefully selecting a celery stick, “that our Joanna’s prickly mood has something to do with Bobby’s not having given Jo—”
“Karleen, that’s okay—”
“—his half of the roof repair money. What’d I say?” she finished as Joanna shut her eyes.
Glynnie looked at Joanna. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed help with the house?”
“Karleen?” Joanna said.
“Yeah?”
“You just reached the last stop on Memory Lane.”
Karleen’s eyes bounced between Jo and her mother, then her mouth fell open in a little O. “Gotcha.” She grabbed a piece of broccoli for the road and click-clacked out of the kitchen. Joanna turned back to her mother. “Because I don’t need help, with the house or anything else.”
“But you just said—”
“Mom? This is between Bobby and me. We’ll work it out.”
Her carefully penciled brows drawn together, Glynnie reached over and selected her own celery stick, swiping it through the bowl of onion dip in the center