him before Emily came out all flushed, trying to act as if Larry hadn’t already spoiled her evening.
Sis flicked a speck of dust off the front of her shirt, harder than necessary, so hard in fact, that she ended up feeling the sting of her own slap.
His car came upon her suddenly, turning into the driveway before she had decided what she was going to say to him. Let him off the hook completely? Pretend she didn’t know he’d acted an ass about dinner? Emily would be pleased if she kept quiet, but Sis might just choke on her own bile.
“Sis! Don’t you look a vision?” Larry strode up the front steps with the confidence of a smooth-talking, handsome man used to turning heads. Before she knew what was happening, he was bent over her hand, kissing it, and she found herself staring at the too-straight part slicing through his black hair.
“A nightmare is more like it,” she said.
Larry didn’t respond to her self-deprecating comment. Instead, he let go of her hand, thank God, and looked out over the Gulf.
“You have a beautiful view. No wonder Emily loves this place.”
“She does, but then Emily loves almost everything and everybody.”
“Lucky me. I finally found a woman who could look beyond my flaws and see a hero.”
“Emily’s a sweet, trusting woman, Larry. And easily hurt.”
“She’s the woman of every man’s dreams.”
“Yes, she is. I’m glad you know how lucky you are to have her.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it.” Suddenly, Larry puffed up with such self-importance Sis thought he’d levitate right off the front porch. “A salesman learns to read people. When I saw your sister, I read her like a book.”
“And what did that book say?” If he noticed her sarcasm, he didn’t show a sign.
“‘I’m a woman you can keep barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen.’”
He laughed at his own Dark Ages attitude, and Sis wanted to slap him off the porch. Emily saved him, rushing out pink-faced and smiling, the only sign of her nervousness showing in the way she wadded a corner of her blue gingham apron into a tight fist.
“Larry! I’m so glad you’re here.” She rushed over to hug him, and he winked over her shoulder at Sis.
Did that jackass dare to think they were coconspirators? Or was he so certain of his hold over her sister that he didn’t care how he flaunted his power?
Still steaming, she watched Larry lead her sister into the house. She had to stand on the porch deep breathing before she could follow. The evening couldn’t be over fast enough to suit Sis.
THE DINING ROOM TABLE looked elegant with Sweet Mama’s china and silver gleaming in the candlelight. The candles had been Emily’s idea, a last-minute addition to make Larry feel special. She couldn’t help but take pride that dinner was turning out to be a great success.
Sis was playing hostess with such grace, Emily would never have guessed she’d pitched a hissy fit in the kitchen earlier. Sweet Mama and Beulah wore rhinestone brooches for the occasion, and Andy looked darling with his face scrubbed clean and his flyaway hair slicked back. It looked suspiciously shiny to Emily. Later, she’d have to find out what he used. Usually it was water, but his cowlick was too tame for that.
Even Jim had joined them. Emily was glad, though he hadn’t said a single word except hello.
Fortunately, Larry didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy fielding questions from Sweet Mama and Beulah.
“What brought you down here?” Sweet Mama said, and Larry acted as if she hadn’t already asked him the same question three times. Emily hoped Sis noticed.
“I applied for a transfer to this area because I love fishing.”
“It’s his favorite pastime,” Emily added, hoping Sweet Mama would remember a granddaughter better than she did a virtual stranger.
“Before I met our girl here, I spent all my time with a fishing pole in my hands.”
“Jim has a fishing boat and a convertible.” Emily glanced at her brother, hopeful, but he was moving his mashed potatoes around on his plate. “It would be great if the two of you would let the top down and go fishing together.”
When Jim’s hand tightened over his fork, Emily had the awful feeling that she was pushing her brother back instead of drawing him close. To make matters worse, Beulah scowled at her and Andy started kicking the table leg.
“Fish ain’t biting now or me and Jim would’a gone today.” Beulah closed her hand around Jim’s arm, and there it stayed, dark as sorghum molasses against his white shirt. “Ain’t no telling when they gonna bite again.”
Sis shot Emily a warning glance, but it was already too late to stop a conversation rolling toward disaster.
“Fish always bite for me.” Larry turned his attention to Jim, looking pointedly at the crutch leaning against his chair. “How about it, Jim? Go fishing with me and I’ll do all the driving. Thank God I avoided this senseless war and stayed in one piece.”
“Our boy drives just fine.” Beulah looked like a thundercloud that didn’t care who she rained on.
“Jim’s a hero.” Sweet Mama peered at Larry. “All the men in our family are heroes.”
“How come you didn’t go to war?” Beulah asked.
“I didn’t pass the draft. I was 4F.”
Larry’s face tightened and Emily wadded her napkin into a little ball. Did her future husband have some dire medical condition she didn’t know about?
“Why were you 4F, darling?”
“Flat feet,” he said.
Emily wanted to crawl under the table. Her daddy’s World War II medals were on prominent display in a shadow box in the entry hall and Jim’s Purple Heart would soon be there, as well.
Sweet Mama laid down her fork in that big, clattering way she had when she meant business.
“There’s nothing but patriotic men in this family,” she said, “and we’re proud of it.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Beulah patted Jim’s arm. “In my day, we called them 4F-ers slackers.”
Larry’s face blazed and Emily’s felt hot. She’d explain to Larry later that Sweet Mama was slowly losing touch with reality, that Beulah would say just about anything if she thought one of her babies was under fire, but how would she explain to her family that she was going to marry a man they considered a coward?
And still, there was the rest of this awful evening to get through. She shot a desperate glance at Sis.
“We’re
