Nobody's Baby but Mine(108)

His hand clenched around the bottle. He wouldn’t give in. There were lots of women out there who were younger and prettier, women who didn’t see the need to pick fights with him over every little thing, who’d do what he said and then leave him alone. That’s what he wanted. Someone young and beautiful who’d leave him alone.

He took another swig then went into his study where he set about the business of getting seriously drunk.



Jane knew she couldn’t leave until she’d said good-bye to Annie. Neither could she give in to her grief right now, so she blinked her eyes and took big, shuddering gulps of air as she drove to the top of Heartache Mountain. Lynn’s car wasn’t in sight, and she was grateful she could say good-bye to Annie without a hostile witness.

The house looked so different from when she’d first seen it. Cal had painted it white. He’d fixed the crooked shutters and the broken step. As she entered and called out Annie’s name, she pushed away the memory of the laughter they’d shared while they’d worked.

When she reached the kitchen, she saw Annie through the screen door. She was sitting outside in the sun snapping green beans from a pottery bowl on her lap. As Jane watched the rhythmic motion of Annie’s gnarled fingers, she wanted to take the bowl from her and snap the beans herself. Bean snapping was one task that hadn’t been influenced by technology. It was performed exactly the same way now that it had been hundreds of years ago. It suddenly seemed to her that snapping those beans would bring something solid into her life, a link with all the women who had come before her, all the women throughout history who’d snapped beans and survived the heartache of men who didn’t love them back.

She bit her lip, then stepped outside. Annie turned her head. “ ’Bout time you decided to stop by.”

She sat down in the tubular lawn chair next to Annie and regarded the bowl that rested in her lap on top of a piece of newspaper to collect scraps. At that moment, its contents seemed precious and utterly necessary to her well-being. “Can I do those?”

“I don’t like waste.”

“All right.” Her hands trembled as she took the bowl. With utmost concentration, she bent her head, pulled out a bean, and carefully snapped off the ends. Apparently she didn’t take off too much because Annie didn’t criticize. She let the ends drop into her lap and focused on breaking the beans into bite-sized lengths.

“Those is store-bought beans. The ones from my garden’ll be a lot better.”

“I wish I were going to be here long enough to see them come in.” Her voice sounded almost normal. A little toneless, maybe. A shade tight. But almost normal.

“They’ll be ready long before Cal has to leave for trainin’ camp and the two of you head back to Chicago.”

Jane didn’t say anything. Instead, she picked up another bean, pushed her thumbnail into the end, and tore it off.

For the next few minutes she applied herself only to the beans, while Annie watched a bluebird hop from one branch to another in her magnolia tree. But instead of bringing her peace, Annie’s quiet and the warmth of the sun on her skin, along with the peaceful repetition of this woman’s task, made her defenses too complicated to keep in place, and they slowly crumbled.

A tear slipped over her bottom lid, trailed down her cheek, and splashed onto the bodice of her cotton dress. Another fell and then another. A shuddering little hiccup slipped out. She continued to break the beans and stopped fighting her grief.

Annie watched the bluebird fly away and then followed the path of a squirrel in the same tree. One of Jane’s tears dripped into the beans.

Annie began to hum softly under her breath. Jane finished the last bean, then searched frantically through the bowl for one she might have overlooked.

Annie reached into the pocket of her old apron, drew out a pink tissue, and handed it over. Jane blew her nose and began to speak. “I—I’m going to miss you s-so much, Annie, but I can’t stand it anymore. I have to go away. H-he doesn’t love me.”

Annie pursed her lips with disapproval. “Calvin, he don’t know what he feels.”

“He’s old enough to have figured it out by now.” She gave her nose an angry blow.

“Never knew a man who hated getting older so much. Usually, it’s women who’ll fight the years.”

“I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.” She had to get away, and she nearly dropped the beans as she stood.

“Set those right down before you spill ’em all over the ground.”

Jane did as she said. Annie struggled out of her chair. “You’re a good girl, Janie Bonner. He’ll come to his senses soon.”