struggled, trying to get free. “Clayton! Let go of me!”
He dug his fingers deeper. “Don’t mess with me, Rena,” he warned. “I’ve already listened to about all the verbal abuse I can stomach for one day.”
She stilled immediately, her face going pale. “Mother,” she whispered. “What did she say to you?”
He dropped his hands and twisted back around, bracing his forearms on his thighs again and scowling at the pool’s shimmering surface. “Nothing.”
She grabbed his elbow and tugged, but only succeeded in drawing herself to the edge of her chair, not turning him back to face her as she’d wanted. “Clayton!” she cried in frustration. “What did she say to you?”
He thinned his lips and narrowed his eyes. “Nothing that she hasn’t said before.” He gave his arm a jerk, pulling his elbow from her grasp. “I want to see my kids. When will they be back?”
“Soon,” she murmured, staring at his stiff spine. “Dad wanted to take them to the office so he could show them off.”
Clayton stood abruptly and crossed to the edge of the pool, bending to scoop his hat from the tile surface. With his back to her, he settled it over his head and ran his index finger along the edge of the brim in front, snugging it down low over his forehead. “I’m staying at the Wayfarer Inn on Interstate 40. Call me when they get back.”
Rena watched him stride angrily back up the flagstone path toward the house. When he reached the patio, he hesitated a moment, then spun to the left and headed for the side yard and the gate that led to the driveway, obviously anxious to avoid another confrontation with her mother.
Two
Rena stood before the kitchen window, her arms hugged beneath her breasts, staring out at the pool and the lounge chair where Clayton had sat only moments ago. Though her skin still held the warmth of the sun, she rubbed her hands slowly up and down her arms, trying to ease the chill that penetrated to the bone. She could still see the hard set of Clayton’s jaw, the stiffness of his spine, and knew that whatever her mother had said to him had hurt him deeply.
But that was nothing new, she thought wearily. Her mother had always delighted in making Clayton feel inferior—though Rena sometimes wondered who her mother hurt more with her biting comments…Clayton or Rena?
Nothing but a shiftless cowboy.
Married out of your class.
A man with his intellect and upbringing couldn’t possibly understand the needs and expectations of a woman with your background and breeding.
Rena had heard her mother’s opinions of her marriage spouted throughout the four-plus years of her marriage to Clayton, but never delivered more smugly than when Rena had arrived in Tulsa with her children in tow and informed her parents that she had left Clayton.
No, her mother had never approved of Clayton, and Rena was sure that Gloria Palmer would feel no compunction at all in letting her son-in-law know exactly how she felt about him. Especially now, when she knew of Rena’s plans to divorce him.
“Oh, there you are, dear.”
Rena glanced over her shoulder as her mother swept into the kitchen, her expression a picture of innocence. “I didn’t realize that I was lost,” she said, trying, but failing, to keep from her voice the resentment her mother’s appearance drew.
“And what has put you in such a foul mood?” her mother asked. “Or should I ask who?” she amended pointedly.
“What did you say to Clayton, Mother?”
“Say?” her mother repeated innocently. “Why nothing out of the ordinary.”
No, Rena thought bitterly, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for her mother to say something unkind to Clayton. But she knew that discussing it further would be a waste of her time. “Why were you looking for me?” she asked instead.
“To tell you that I made a few appointments for you.” Her mother frowned as she took in Rena’s current dress…or lack thereof. “But you’ll need to hurry and change out of your swimsuit and into something more appropriate in order to make them on time.”
“What appointments?”
“At the day spa,” her mother replied, looking pleased with herself. “I thought you might enjoy an afternoon of pampering. Manicure, pedicure, a massage. And darling Jon Mark agreed to work you in for a shampoo and style, as well.”
Rena drew in a deep breath, fighting for patience. Forty-eight hours in her parents’ home and her mother was already trying to take control of her life again. “Thanks, Mother,” she said as she brushed past her, “but I already have plans for the afternoon.”
Gloria spun to stare after her. “But the appointments have already been made! I simply can’t cancel now. Not after Cecille went to such trouble to rearrange everyone’s schedule, in order to work you in.”
Rena stopped and slowly turned. “I’m sorry that Cecille will be inconvenienced. But, as I said, I have plans.”
Gloria planted her hands on her hips. “And what plans could you have possibly made that are so important that they can’t be changed?”
“I’m taking the twins to see Clayton this afternoon.”
Her mother stared at her a moment, then waved away Rena’s plans as if unimportant. “Well, if that’s all that’s keeping you from enjoying a day at the spa, then there’s no problem. I can take the children to see Clayton.”
“That won’t be necessary. I—”
Her mother held up a hand. “I refuse to listen to another word. You’re going to the spa.” When Rena opened her mouth to argue further, her mother caught her hands in hers and squeezed, her expression turning solicitous. “Please, darling,” she begged softly. “Let me do this for you. You’ve been under such a tremendous strain. An afternoon at the spa will do you a world of good. You’ll see. Please say you’ll go.”
Rena felt herself weakening.
“Please?” her mother coaxed. “If not for yourself, then do it for me.”
Knowing how fruitless it was to argue with her mother, Rena sagged in defeat. “Oh, all right. If you’re sure you don’t mind taking the children to see Clayton.”
“Of course I don’t mind, darling!” Gloria slipped an arm around Rena’s waist and hugged her against her side. “And I don’t want you worrying about a thing while you’re at the spa,” she lectured as she guided Rena to the rear staircase. “You just concentrate on enjoying yourself. No one deserves an afternoon of pampering more than you. Stuck out on that godforsaken ranch all alone with two young, active children.” She made a tsking sound with her tongue. “I wonder how you stood it as long as you did.”
After spending four hours at the day spa being pampered, polished and fawned over, Rena returned to her parents’ home feeling relaxed and renewed. Maybe Mother was right, she reflected grudgingly as she entered the side door that opened from the portico into the kitchen. An afternoon of pampering might have been exactly
