The Bride of Willow Creek(56)
“I doubt the judge will find that explanation any more convincing than I do.”
“Will the judge believe your contention that Sam and I had no communication for ten years and then Sam suddenly requested my help to beat his lover’s parents in court and I said Of course I’ll help you? That’s ridiculous!”
“It doesn’t matter because Mr. Holland will never find the wherewithal to provide Daisy’s surgery within the time granted by the court. And we will not tolerate an appeal based on the questionable appearance of a wife and a cozy family charade.”
Angie stood. She was not Laura and she didn’t care about this woman’s approval. If Mrs. Govenor wanted blunt talk, that’s what she would get.
“I didn’t come to Willow Creek as a ploy to influence the court if the need arose. But now that I’m here, I’ll help Sam in every way I can to retain custody of his daughters. He’s a good father, and he loves those girls. It would be a miscarriage of justice if he loses them and if they lose him. Lucy and Daisy should be with their father.”
“We are their blood relatives and we should raise them!” Mrs. Govenor rose also. They faced each other across the kitchen table. “Look around you, Mrs. Holland. My granddaughters are living in a shack. They attend a third-rate school. Every day of their lives, they are exposed to drunks, brawls, and women of ill repute. Their father, as you call him, is a known adulterer. Mr. Govenor and I can give them a decent life.”
“Your blindness and narrow-mindedness take my breath away!” Angie stared. “If you care so much about your granddaughters, then why didn’t you offer to pay for Daisy’s operation with no strings attached? Pay for her surgery simply because she needs it. Pay for it because her life will be better with a straightened foot!”
“How dare you!”
“Do you know that other children laugh at her and tease her? Do you know that people stare at her? Can you even guess what agony it is for her to buy new shoes? Have you ever seen her foot? She tries to hide it, you know.” Full fury overcame her. Her eyes blazed; her hands flew; she fizzed. “I don’t think you really care about Daisy. I think you use her and your money in an attempt to control. First Laura, and now Sam. If you cared about Daisy, Daisy would have had that operation years ago!”
White-faced and trembling, Mrs. Govenor drew herself rigid. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Daisy would have had her operation years ago if Laura had come home. That’s all she had to do. Just come home.”
“So you punished Daisy because Laura wanted to be happy.” Angie’s lip curled. “And you dare to question my qualifications to be a mother.”
Now it was Mrs. Govenor who sputtered in fury. “I actually felt sorry for you. I lowered myself to apologize.” A shudder convulsed her shoulders. “I see now that you and Mr. Holland are of the same bad ilk.”
“I want you to leave. Right now. And don’t return to this house again.”
Spinning in a swirl of gray silk, Mrs. Govenor marched to the front door, her head held high. She paused with her hand on the latch and shot a venomous look back at Angie. “You are not in control here, Mrs. Holland. Mr. Govenor and I are granted access to our granddaughters by the court. I shall return if and when I please, as often as I please, and you have nothing to say about the matter.”
Angie expected her to slam the door, and perhaps she wanted to, but Mrs. Govenor’s dignity reappeared and the door closed softly behind her.
Dignity was not Angie’s long suit. Throwing back her head, she shouted “damn” at the ceiling, then ran outside and yanked the laundry off the line, scattering clothespins all over the ground. She threw the clean clothing on her bed, then sat on top of it and covered her face with her hands.
With all her heart, she wished she could turn back the clock and have five more minutes with her mother. She longed to tell her mother that she had never doubted that she was loved. Had Angie made the same choices as Laura, her mother would have been as shocked and horrified as Mrs. Govenor. But Emily Bertoli would never have disowned her daughter. She would have wept, prayed, and blamed herself for raising Angie wrong, and in the end she would have fought to understand.
Throwing back her head, Angie stared at the ceiling. Mrs. Govenor could not be allowed to raise Lucy and Daisy. The wrong things were important to Laura’s mother.
Right now, feeling as she did, if she had believed it would help, Angie would have joined Sam at his diggings every night and would have swung a pick until dawn looking for gold. They had to find the money for Daisy’s operation. And soon.