and he was never coming back. Every time Justin left on a mission, his parting words to her had always been that if he didn’t come back alive, then he didn’t want her to spend the rest of her life mourning him. And if she did decide to marry again, to just make certain that the man could love and protect not only her but their children, too.
Joyce had been badgering her to join the military widows’ chapter of a local service club, but Angela saw no use in talking to other women about what was, and she didn’t want to relive the image of her husband’s flag-draped casket before the flag was folded and handed to her. Her sole focus was her son and daughter and their emotional well-being. She hadn’t dated and wasn’t looking forward to dating until her children were older. After all, she was only thirty and had plenty of years ahead of her to think about having a relationship.
“Lee Remington’s back in The Falls.”
Joyce’s head popped up as she stared over her half-glasses at Angela. Her clear brown eyes grew wider, eyes that were the almost the exact color of her café au lait complexion. “When did he get back?”
“It was a couple of days ago.”
“Did you talk to him?” Joyce asked.
Angela nodded. “We chatted for a few minutes before I took Malcolm to the dentist.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
A shiver of annoyance snaked its way up Angela’s back. Joyce Mitchell was her mother-in-law and her children’s grandmother, but Joyce failed to realize she wasn’t her keeper. “I didn’t think it was important enough to tell you.”
Joyce narrowed her eyes. “How long is he staying?”
Angela lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. But he claims he’s left the army.”
Joyce slowly shook her head. “First we’ve had to deal with the father and now the son. What’s the world coming to?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Angela asked.
“Everyone knows that Emory is a convict and a drug addict, and it stands to reason that he could have some influence over that boy, who’s had his own brush with the law.”
Angela smothered a gasp. “You know that’s not true! It was Will Carson who stole Lee’s jacket and left it behind when he and his friends broke into the Newman house to put the blame on Lee. And it’s a good thing Lee had reported his jacket missing days before or he wouldn’t have been able to prove his innocence.”
Joyce pressed her lips together until they resembled a slash in her face. “You say that because there was always something going on between you and that boy.”
“There was nothing going on between me and Lee except friendship.” Angela’s voice was barely a whisper. She didn’t like arguing or disagreeing with her mother-in-law while her children were present. But apparently it wasn’t the same with Joyce. Whatever she thought came out of her mouth without being censored first.
Joyce snorted under her breath. “He didn’t think I noticed, but there were times when he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
Angela bit her lip to keep from screaming at the older woman. “Lee was and is my friend and that’s all he’ll ever be to me. And you’re wrong about Lee liking me beyond friendship.”
Joyce placed her quilting in the basket next to her chair. “Are you saying you’ll be seeing him again?”
“Yes, and for as long as he’s here. I’ve never judged Lee for what his father did years ago. The man paid his debt to society and it’s only narrow-minded people who are not willing to forgive and forget.”
Joyce sat straight. “Are you saying I’m narrow-minded?”
Angela wanted to tell her she was, but knew it would start something that would escalate into a full-blown spat resulting in hurt feelings. “All I’m saying is that if Lee reaches out to me, then I’m not going to reject him. I was going to invite him and his sister over for Sunday dinner but judging how you feel about him that’s not going to happen.”
“I just don’t want him around my grandson because you know Malcolm’s been asking about finding a daddy.”
Counting slowly to ten so she wouldn’t say something that would completely fracture her relationship with Malcolm and Zoe’s grandmother, Angela took deep breaths. “You seem to forget that your grandson and daughter are my children and as such I decide where they live and who they see. You raised your son, and now please let me raise mine.”
Much to Angela’s surprise, Joyce’s eyes filled with tears, and suddenly she felt remorse for speaking so harshly. But they had reached a point in their relationship when Joyce sought to control her life and those of her children as she’d done with Justin, who’d sometimes joked that his father died just to get away from his mother’s constant nagging. That no one could make Joyce happy even if they gave her everything she’d ever wanted. And it wasn’t for the first time that Angela blamed herself for selling the house her parents had given her and Justin as a wedding gift, after they moved to Florida to teach at a historically black university.
Two months before she was scheduled to give birth she’d put the house where she’d grown up with her brother on the market to move in with Joyce. Now, in hindsight, she realized it was an action based on impulse and not common sense. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been more than aware of Justin’s mother’s controlling personality, but at that time she’d been vulnerable and had allowed the woman to make all her decisions for her.
Grieving the loss of her husband and giving birth to twins had proved overwhelming for a first-time mother. Her mother had taken family leave to come up and stay with her for a month, and after witnessing Joyce’s domineering behavior she’d invited Angela to move to Florida. Even her brother had urged her to relocate to the West Coast to be close to his family, but Angela did not want to leave Wickham Falls because her husband was buried there.
Reaching for a tissue in a box near a side table, Joyce dabbed her eyes. “I know I can get a little pushy, but my grandkids are all I have left to remind me of my son.”
Angela felt a pang of guilt that she had to be reminded of Joyce’s loss. Not only had Joyce lost her husband but also her only child. “I know that. But you should realize Malcolm isn’t Justin, and no matter how much you try to mold him into his father’s image he is his own little person.”
Joyce sniffled softly. “I’m sorry, Angela, if you think I’m trying to raise your children. No one knows better than me that you’re a very good mother, and I’m honored to call you daughter. I suppose I’m overreacting, anticipating not seeing the kids for the summer when they go to Florida to stay with your folks.”
Rising from the love seat, Angela leaned over and kissed Joyce’s short salt-and-pepper curls. “I’m going upstairs to finish packing. After that I’ll be down to give the kids their bath.”
A smile parted the older woman’s lips. “Okay.”
Angela walked off the porch and made her way up the staircase to the second story. She entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Flopping down on a cushioned rocker, she pulled her lip between her teeth. It was getting more and more difficult to live under the same roof as her children’s paternal grandmother, whom they adored.
