that. There was more to this. Her mother was the most competent, composed woman she’d ever known and her being so flustered and unnerved over a man was completely out of character.
“Mom, you don’t need to worry what I think.”
“But I do. You’re my daughter and, well…okay, I’m just going to blurt it out.” Lillie straightened her shoulders. “He’s the service manager at the car dealership.”
Barbie couldn’t help it; her jaw dropped. Her mother was attracted to a mechanic—a man with grease under his fingernails? Lillie Higgins, society matron, and a mechanic? Instantly warnings rose in her mind. This man must know that her mother had money. Lillie was lonely and vulnerable, easy prey. Her usual common sense had evidently deserted her, and she needed protection from this gigolo or whatever he was.
Barbie saw that her mother was waiting for her reaction, so she said, “I…see.”
Lillie downed the last of her Irish coffee. “His name is Hector Silva.”
This was as shocking as the fact that he was a mechanic. “He’s Hispanic? Is he legal?”
“Yes! Of course! Hector’s a citizen. He’s decent and hardworking and kind.” She hiccuped once, then covered her face. “This is even worse than I thought it would be,” she moaned.
“No, Mom, really, I apologize. That was a stupid question. It’s just…I don’t know what to think.” She’d assumed her mother couldn’t surprise her; she’d assumed wrong. Of all the men who’d love to date her mother, Lillie had fallen for a mechanic? Lillie dropped her hands. “I believe I know what you’re trying to say,” she said in a cold voice. “And I’m disappointed in you.”
“I’m sorry,” Barbie mumbled. But the image of her mother with this man refused to take shape in her mind.
Her mother motioned toward her. “It’s your turn.”
“But…”
“Tell me what the problem is with this Mark. Why you didn’t want to say anything. Is he too old? Too young? Some kind of addict?”
“None of those.” Like her mother, she squared her shoulders and expelled her secret in a single breath. “He’s paralyzed from the waist down.”
Lillie closed her eyes briefly. “Oh, Barbie.”
It was just as she’d expected. Annoyed, she slid off the stool. “I knew it! I should’ve realized you’d react like this. I wish I hadn’t said anything.” Her annoyance turned to disillusionment and then just as quickly to pain. “You’re the one personin the world I trust to understand me and all you can say is Oh, Barbie?”
“You weren’t exactly a great encouragement to me, either,” Lillie muttered.
“Oh, please. A mechanic? You want to ask a mechanic out for a date and you expect me to cheer?” All the frustration and anger of the evening burst from her. She stood with her hands knotted into fists at her sides. “You didn’t tell Jacqueline who this man is, did you?
What’s the appeal? Do you think he’ll be good in bed? Is that it?” Her own words shocked her, but not nearly as much as they did her mother.
Lillie stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror. Then she did something she’d never done in her whole life.
She slapped her.
Stunned into silence, Barbie pressed her hand to her cheek. Tears sprang to her eyes.
When her mother spoke, her voice shook with fury. “At least Hector could take me to bed.”
Barbie gasped at the implication, grabbed her purse and shot out of the house. Over the years they’d quarreled—every mother and daughter did—but never anything like this.
A sick feeling engulfed her as she drove to her own house, less than two miles away. Pulling into the garage, she sat in her car and hid her face in both hands. The urge to break into heaving sobs of rage and pain and regret nearly overwhelmed her. But she refused to give in to the swell of grief, refused to allow the ugliness that had come between them to disintegrate her emotions any further.
Barbie didn’t sleep that night or the next.
Nor did she speak to her mother. Ten times at least she reached for the phone. Normally they spoke every day, often more than once. Now the silence was like a vast emptiness.
As far as Barbie was concerned, her mother owed her an apology. Lillie had struck her—her own daughter.
By the end of the second day, Barbie could hardly stand it. She missed her mother. She needed her.
The dinner for the widows’ group was scheduled for Thursday night. Barbie was determined to go, but as Tuesday passed and then Wednesday, that resolve weakened.
This was ridiculous, she told herself. They’d both been at fault.
They’d both said things they regretted. It was time to apologize and put this behind them.
Late Thursday afternoon, a floral delivery truck parked in front of her dress shop just as Barbie was about to close for the day. The man carried in a huge floral arrangement from Susannah’s Garden. This had to be a hundred-dollar order. It took up nearly half the counter space.
The driver handed her a clipboard, and Barbie signed her name as a rush of relief came over her. She didn’t need to look at the attached card to know her mother had sent the flowers. Like her, Lillie was sorry. She was apologizing, trying to restore what they’d lost. Smiling, Barbie removed the small envelope and opened it.
She was wrong; Lillie hadn’t sent the flowers.
Only one word was written on the card.
Mark.
Chapter 19
Anne Marie and Ellen were both looking forward to dinner at Lillie’s that night. Earlier, Anne Marie had called to ask what she could contribute to the meal.
“Nothing,” her friend had insisted. “Just bring yourselves.” As she replaced the receiver, Anne Marie thought that Lillie didn’t sound like herself. Ever since they’d made their wish lists, Lillie’s spirits had been high. But following their conversation, she wondered if she’d misread Lillie’s feelings. Her voice had been flat, emotionless, devoid of her usual enthusiasm.
Anne Marie was afraid this dinner might be too much work for her. Later in the day she phoned Lillie again, to make sure everything was all right.
“Everything’s perfectly fine,” Lillie said, although her tone belied her words. “Actually, I’m really enjoying myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve cooked for a dinner party.” Anne Marie heard a timer in the distance, and Lillie told her she had to get off the phone.
Still, Anne Marie wondered. She sensed that something was off, but Lillie obviously wasn’t going to tell her. All she could do was accept her word and hope that if there was a problem, it would soon be resolved.
The school bus rolled past the shop window and
