Just a Little White Lie(33)

With that, Hattie took Lucy’s hand, leading her to a back bedroom. “I want to show you something.” From the foot of the bed, she picked up a time-faded quilt, handling it as carefully as one would a Fabergé egg. “This is the one Mama Parker, my mother-in-law, made for Wayne and me when we got married. Sixty-three years ago last month.”

Her pale blue eyes took on a faraway look. “And it’s still keeping me warm. Lots of good memories here.”

That’s exactly what Jake’s family had that hers didn’t, Lucy thought. History. Memories. Shared love that lasted through the years. Through a lifetime and beyond.

She thought of her own father and his new wife. Her new stepmom. She seriously doubted she and Peaches would be reminiscing about the good old days anytime soon.





Chapter Eleven




It was Tuesday already. Lucinda’s days of freedom were flying by…and she was tired. So tired. She’d lain awake much of the night thinking about what she and Jake had gotten themselves into. It was like wading into quicksand. Every step, every move, every word pulled them in and under a bit more. No wonder she’d dreamed of wandering through a house where each door led to another and another and another. Like a maze, it trapped her, refused to let her escape.

A quick call to Maynard left her further disappointed and uneasy. He may have worked a miracle with her luggage, getting it to her far faster than she’d expected, but his magic act ended there.

No car part yet.

“Soon,” he promised. “And the minute it comes in, I’ll get to work on that pretty little machine of yours.”

Right.

She studied Jake where he stood at the kitchen window, sipping his coffee and staring out into the backyard. For reasons beyond her understanding, the dynamic had shifted between them. Her feelings had changed, and that wasn’t good. How much longer could she stay here with him?

Even from the back, the man was gorgeous. God must have been really happy the day he assembled Jake Parker, because everything about the man ran to superlatives.

And his family…

She sighed.

So here she was with this, this phony engagement hanging over her head like a big old black cloud. The biggest problem with it was that…well, it was phony.

She’d fallen asleep last night wishing she’d met Jake before. Before Donald. Before she’d become so cynical. Before her total disillusionment with even the idea of marriage. Although, to be perfectly honest, her parents had pretty well managed to destroy happy-ever-after early for her. Maybe that was why she’d been willing to settle for Donald. Willing to settle for no spark. No chemistry. No magic. If her heart wasn’t involved, he couldn’t hurt her.

Speaking of hearts, it was time she and Jake had a heart-to-heart. Before she could say anything, the phone rang.

Jake answered it, listened a minute. “She’s right here. I’ll put her on.” He held the phone out to her. “It’s for you.”

Her brows furrowed. “For me?”

“My mom.”

Reluctant to entangle herself further, to risk hurting his mother more, Lucinda tried to back away. “Tell her I’m not here,” she mouthed.

Jake shook his head and foisted the phone on her.

“You owe me.” She shot him a killer look. “Hi, Trudy.”

She listened, the rock inside her stomach growing to boulder size. Panic bubbled up, and she had to swallow before speaking. “Sure. I’ll be ready.”

Half-sick, she hung up, head bowed, phone held close to her chest. She looked up, met Jake’s questioning eyes. “Seems I’m going to lunch with the girls today. Your mom, Grandma Hattie and Birdie.”

“Oh, shoot.” He took the phone from her but didn’t move to replace it.

“My feelings exactly.” She ran an unsteady hand through her hair. “Your mom’s picking me up. My lucky day. Birdie has time to slip out between appointments. Isn’t that great?” The sarcasm tasted like acid on her tongue.

“Jake, I can’t do this.” Overwhelmed, she held the phone out to him. “Call her. Tell her I’ve come down with food poisoning. Or appendicitis. Maybe typhoid.”

He shook his head.

“Can you at least come with me? With us?”

His lips flattened in a grimace. “As much as I’d love to…” He shrugged. “I can’t. If it’s girls’ day—”

“You’re a lousy liar, Jake. You really need to work on that. You could at least pretend to be sorry.”

Those lips of his curled up at the corner. “You’re a big girl. You’ll survive this.”

“You think it’s funny.”