Cedar Cove Collection (Books 7-12). Debbie Macomber
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“Handsome?” Bobby repeated at the same time.
Teri glared at him. Not Bobby, too. Her heart sank.
“Handsome and rich and famous.”
“My husband the checkers player.” Teri stared up at Bobby with an exaggerated starstruck expression. For further effect, she batted her eyelashes.
Bobby looked uncomfortable and confused.
Christie laughed softly. “Don’t tell me you’re worried that I’d try to lure Bobby away from you. My goodness, Teri, are you really that insecure?”
“I … I.” She hated to admit that she was—that they both were. Her sister’s need to compete, to win, brought out the very worst in Teri, especially when there was a man involved. Christie knew her deepest fears and manipulated them. And Teri allowed her to do it. That was a pattern she recognized but couldn’t explain. Maybe it was simply habit, all those years of playing certain roles, feeling certain emotions.
Christie hadn’t been in the house two minutes and already Teri hated her—and hated herself.
Clearing her throat, she decided then and there that she wouldn’t play the role Christie always assigned her. The loser. The unattractive one. The rejected woman. “You can try all you want,” she said with a look of unconcern. “My husband loves me, and I trust him. So go ahead, little sister. But it isn’t going to work.”
Christie blinked, obviously taken aback by Teri’s directness.
“Maybe I’ll do just that,” she murmured. “We’ll see what happens.”
Rather than watch, Teri excused herself to check on their dinner. She’d made her stand and now she had to step back and trust her heart—and her husband. Finding busywork in the kitchen, she gave Christie ten full minutes.
When Teri returned, Christie seemed more than a little befuddled.
“I don’t suppose you have any beer?” her sister asked.
“No, I didn’t think it was a good idea to have alcohol around when Mom’s going to be here.”
“I could use one.”
Teri caught her husband’s eye and, to her utter astonishment, Bobby winked. Teri grinned and so did he. Bobby knew—and he’d put Christie in her place. Teri had no idea what had gone on while she was in the kitchen. But in that moment all she wanted to do was throw herself at her husband and make love to him, regardless of who was in the room.
Her husband recognized her look, and his eyes briefly flared. They shared a smile and an unspoken promise. He’d get his reward later.
Teri’s mother and Mike showed up next. As soon as her mother walked inside, she oohed and aahed over the house. After introductions were exchanged, she turned to her older daughter. “Teri, this is just lovely. Give me a tour, would you? I want to see every room.” She brought one hand to her throat as she roamed from living room to kitchen to dining room, commenting on each feature. Like an obedient puppy, Mike silently trailed behind.
“Teri’s got the bucks now and she can flaunt it,” Christie said. The words had a deflated quality that Teri chose to ignore.
Johnny arrived last and a genuine smile lit up his face when he saw Teri. He immediately hugged her and whispered, “It’s not so bad, is it?”
“Not bad at all.”
“Great.”
Her mother left to go to the car and returned with a case of beer. “This is Mike’s and my contribution to dinner,” she said, setting it down on the kitchen counter. Before Teri could protest, Christie had pulled out a bottle, twisted off the cap and taken her first swig. Ruth and Mike followed in quick succession.
Johnny met her eyes and shrugged. There was nothing either of them could do now.
The evening deteriorated from that point on. Ruth and Mike, along with Christie, sat in the living room and drank beer while Teri served appetizers they mostly ignored. Bobby and Johnny gamely swallowed cheese puffs and shrimp.
“I baked a ham,” Teri announced. Bobby got up and stood behind her, as if protecting her from harm.
“I hope everyone’s hungry,” Johnny added, joining them. “Looks like Teri’s been cooking all day.”
She’d taken real pride in this dinner, but that was beside the point. She smiled gratefully at her brother.
“It looks like she’s been eating all day, too,” her mother said, and seemed to find herself exceptionally funny.
One hand on her hip, Teri said, “No more beer for you, understand?”
Ruth’s head came back as though she’d been struck. “What did you say?”
“I said this is my house and if you want to drink, you’ll do it elsewhere.”
“Fine, I will.” She stood and the still-silent Mike stood with her.
Although she’d threatened to leave, Ruth didn’t seem to be in any rush. “You think you’re so smart because you’re married to this hotshot checkers player,” her mother spat. “Just because you’ve got money doesn’t mean you can tell people how to run their lives.”
Everyone froze, and then Bobby stepped forward. Without saying a word, he picked up Ruth’s handbag.
“What’s he doing with my purse?” she demanded.
Marching into the entry, Bobby set her mother’s purse down by the front door.
“Are you kicking me out?” Ruth cried. “I can’t believe this! My own daughter’s asking me to leave her home.” She glanced around the room, seeking support and finding none. Then she headed toward Mike, grabbing his arm.
“I thought you said you were leaving anyway,” Christie commented.
“Yeah, Mom,” Johnny said cheerfully as he held open the front door. “You drink, you go. That’s Teri’s rule.”
Ruth hesitated in the doorway. “Don’t think I’m going to forget this, Teri. One day you’ll need me, but I’ll tell you right now—you can forget it.” With her chin so high she was in danger of tripping over her own two feet, Ruth walked out with Mike once again trudging obediently in her wake.
There was a startled silence. Teri felt like weeping; she’d known something like this would happen, although she’d suspected Christie rather than her mother would cause the scene.
“Are you going to leave, too?” Teri turned to ask her sister.
“No.” Christie hiccuped. It was obvious that she’d already had too much to drink. A glint of admiration shone in her eyes. “I’ve never seen you stand up to Mom that way,” she muttered. “I wish I had the guts to do that.”
Teri blinked, hardly able to believe what she’d