The Man Must Marry(31)

"What? The storm? Get in here before you drown," she said, motioning her to run around to the other side.

"No, let's sit in my truck," Jennifer said, running to the driver's side   of the SUV and climbing in. Willa rolled up her window, opened the   door, and made a mad dash for the SUV. "Your truck!" she squealed,   climbing into the passenger seat. She immediately slid back out. "It's a   leather interior. We're going to get it all wet."

"Get in here, Auntie," Jen said with a laugh, grabbing Willa's sleeve   and pulling her back inside. She slid the key into the ignition, started   it up, and immediately turned down the volume on the radio. "Isn't  this  the greatest?" She flipped on the interior lights. "I just took my   learner's permit exam two days ago, but I haven't tried driving it  yet.  It's got satellite radio, navigation, and even a DVD player in the   back." She ran her hands lovingly over the steering wheel. "And it's  all  mine," she finished on a whisper.

"Oh, my God, Jen. It's beautiful." Willa turned in her seat to take it all in. "You could put an entire softball team in here."

Jen shook her head. "When I get my license, I won't be able to carry   anyone who isn't family for six months. Abram picked it out especially   for me, because it was big and safe." Her expression turned pained. "I'm   sorry he died, Auntie. I really liked him, you know? He was a cool old   guy."

"They don't make them any cooler," Willa agreed. "And I'm glad you got   to know him, Jen." She chuckled so she wouldn't tear up. "Whenever he   was talking to me about you, he always referred to you as ‘that spitfire   niece of yours,'" she said, dropping her voice to sound like Abram.

"He wrote me a letter," Jen said. "I put it in my jewelry box, and I'm   going to keep it forever. Abram told me to grab the world by the tail   and give it a good shake every now and then, just to see what happens."

Willa laughed, wiping her eyes.

"Look," Jen said, pointing at the floor by her feet. "They put the gas   petal on the left side, so I can use my left foot instead of my right,   but everything else is the same. And when it comes time for me to trade   it in, the pedal can be put back on the right side with hardly any   trouble." She looked over at Willa. "That was Emmett's idea, Abram said   in his letter. The two of them decided I could learn to use my left  foot

just as easily as people learn to use their right foot for driving."

"It's perfect for you," Willa agreed. "But I noticed the temporary plate   isn't handicapped. Do you have to wait until you register it to get   one?"

Jen gaped at her. "I'm not getting one of those-they're for handicapped   people. I've been trying to get Mom to get rid of the one on our van  for  years." She shot Willa a mischievous smile. "I'm getting a vanity  plate  that says CATCH ME. You know, as in ‘Catch me if you can'? Abram   suggested it in his letter."

Feeling about two inches tall, Willa gave her forehead a dramatic slap.   "What was I thinking? Of course, you'll get a vanity plate."

They both jumped when somebody pounded on Jen's window. "Mom said if you   two don't come in for supper, she's not even saving you the wishbone,"   Cody hollered through the window. He spun around and ran back to the   house.

Jen shut off the truck. "I wish I could have thanked Abram personally.   His letter also said Spencer was setting up an appointment for me inNew   York City to be fitted for a special prosthesis so I can do sports and   stuff."

Willa patted her niece's arm. "You'll be thanking Abram every time you shake the world by its tail, Jen,"

she said with a laugh, opening her door.

Jen stopped her by grabbing her sleeve. "Um … Mom's got some news for you,   Auntie. She's been worrying all week about telling you, so … well, try   not to overreact, okay?"

The fine hairs on Willa's neck rose in alarm. "What news?"

Jen opened her own door. "Mom will tell you. Just don't take it   personally, okay?" She scrunched up her pretty young face. "Like you   usually do."                       
       
           



       

She was out the door and running through the rain before Willa could ask   what in hell she'd meant by that. "I'll show you personal, you little   brat," she muttered, dashing for the house. "Let's see how long it  takes  you to notice the ‘Don't bother honking; I'm blond' sticker I'm  going  to put on your fancy new bumper."

Crammed to the gills with the best stuffing and gravy she'd ever eaten,   Willa sat on the floor against her couch, her face bathed in firelight   from the hearth, and fought to stay awake. "You fill my wineglass one   more time, Shel, and I'm going to fall asleep right here."

"Fine with me,"Shelby said, setting down the bottle and leaning against   the couch next to her. "I wasn't looking forward to sharing a bed with   you, anyway."

"The storm's not that bad. Go home; whatever you have to tell me can   wait until tomorrow. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in more than a   week."

"Um … my bed is in your barn, along with all my other worldly possessions."

"Oh, my God," Willa whispered. "You left Richard."

"The timing was perfect, what with him being … out of the country. And I   can't very well kick Richard out of his family homestead, can I? So I   packed up all our belongings, stored everything in your barn, and the   three of us have moved in with you," she finished with a smile.

"When did you decide to leave him?"

"I filed the divorce papers about a month ago."

"And you're only telling me now!"

Her sister became very busy swirling the wine in her glass. "I was afraid of how you'd react."

"How I'd react how? "

Shelbyleaned her shoulder against the couch to face her. "You have a   very bad habit of thinking you're somehow responsible for everything   that happens to anyone you care about." She shrugged. "You've been   nagging me to leave him for years now, and I knew once I did, you'd find   a way to blame yourself for my marriage breaking up. Then you'd feel   guilty, and then you'd start trying to fix me , just like you try to fix   everyone."

"I do not!"

"Who marched over to school and gave Cody's basketball coach hell last fall?"

"That jerk was only interested in winning. He's supposed-"

"Without even telling me you were going to see him,"Shelby continued   forcefully, cutting Willa off. "And who keeps visiting her   ex-mother-in-law because she feels guilty for divorcing her son and his   moving toMontana ?"

"I like Jean Sommers."

"My God, Willy, you even started a business to give a bunch of bored old people something to do."

"I have to earn a living."

"Then there's the diner. You're banned from ever going in there again, for heaven's sakes."

"That wasn't really my fault. Craig Watson is a-"

"And Uncle Jake's funeral? AndBeverly andClyde 's wedding? Oh, and let's   not forget last year's town meeting debacle. Shall I go on?"

Willa closed her mouth and stared into the fire.

"I'm getting a divorce because Richard and I barely talk to each other   anymore,"Shelby said softly. "I stuck it out for the kids, but I simply   can't do it anymore." She laughed humorlessly. "Jen finally came right   out and told me that if I didn't leave Richard, she was leaving us .  She  said she couldn't stand the tension anymore, and she'd take Cody  and  live with Emmett."

"Emmett? Not me?" Willa said in surprise.

Shelbywrapped her arms around Willa and gave her a squeeze. "They love   you to death but only in small doses, Willy. They don't want to be   fussed over; they want to fight their own battles."

"I do not fuss over them."

"Yes, you do. You fuss over everyone-except yourself. When was the last time you went out on a date?"

"In March."

Shelbysnorted. "Peter Thomas doesn't count. He's old enough to be our   father, and that was a sympathy date because his wife had run off with a   younger man. Let me rephrase the question: When was the last time you   got laid?"

Willa scrambled to her feet and glared down at her sister. "How did this   conversation get turned to my love life? We're supposed to be   discussing your divorce."