"But I remember what you were like before the accident," the girl said into her shoulder with a sniffle. She pulled away, wiping her eyes. "It's like you became an entirely different person. You divorced David, which was a good thing, but then you suddenly stopped living . And you started hiding behind your old people. They take advantage of your soft heart, and you just let them. And you build caskets! I mean, jeesh, Auntie, could anything be more morbid?"
She clutched Willa's shoulders. "I'm sorry for blasting you like this, but Sam said it wasn't fair of me to resent you without your even knowing."
"Y-you resent me?"
"Because you make me feel guilty! Oh, this is coming out all wrong!" she cried, standing up and looking down at Willa, who couldn't seem to move. "You didn't ruin my life!" the girl snapped. "And I'm not a
cripple. For God's sake, my foot got mangled because you saved me from burning alive! Would you please tell me why you think that's such a god-awful sin?"
"Because I caused the accident, Jen," Willa whispered, so overwhelmed that she couldn't stand. "I was upset from walking in on David and that woman, and I wasn't paying attention to my driving. I never saw that car."
Jen balled her hands into fists. "Accidents happen, Aunt Willa-every day, all over the world. And sometimes bad things happen to good people for no reason. But that doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life safely moored in the harbor. And it sure as hell doesn't mean we have to stay there with you!"
"Oh, my God, Jen, you're killing me," Willa cried, clutching her belly.
"There's no need for me to do that." Jennifer's voice was devoid of emotion. "You're halfway there already."
Stark silence descended over the cottage but for the sound of Jen's footsteps. The door opened, then softly closed, and Willa heard her niece limping across the porch and down the steps. She sat on the floor, her face on her knees, and violently sobbed. All this time since the accident, what had she been doing to Jennifer?
And Cody? AndShelby ? And herself?
She'd been protecting herself, hiding deep in the cracks and crevices of life in order to survive. But not only had she gone totally overboard trying to protect herself, but she had been dragging everyone she loved overboard with her.
Willa finally blew her nose and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Okay, enough. It's time you started living up to your name again, Willy Wild Child."
Emmett had called her that since she was a kid, but he'd rarely done so these last few years. Except … he'd started again after Abram had arrived, almost as if he was trying to remind her who she was.
"Subtle, Emmett," she said with a snort. "You should have just dropped a mast on my head." She sighed. "How in hell am I going to fix this?"
Sam! He could help her figure out what to do about Jen. He'd bullied his way into her life; he could damn well be available when she needed him.
"All you got to do is get her pregnant."
Sam spit his coffee back in his cup, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he looked around to see how many of the diner patrons had heard Phil Grindle's loud suggestion.
"Excuse me?" Sam whispered, leaning forward on the table. "You mind telling me how that would help anything?"
"Phil's right," Sean Graves interjected, also leaning on the table. He, at least, had the good sense to keep his voice low. "It's a known fact that pregnancy turns even the hardest-headed woman into a lamb."
"Yeah," Phil said, scowling at Sean for elaborating on his idea. "It's got something to do with all them hormones women got racing around their bodies," he told Sam. "If you put a bun in their oven, they settle right down."
"That's because they gotta stop worrying about everything else and start nesting," Avery Ingall added.
"You get Willamina pregnant," Phil said, "and you'll see her change almost overnight." He puffed out his sunken chest. "I got my Lizzy pregnant on our honeymoon, and she stopped all her talk about working at the cannery to earn her own money. She settled right down to keeping house and raising babies, and she only spent what money I gave her."
Sam hung on to his patience, remembering that these men were two generations older than he was. "It's not that easy to get a woman pregnant today, since they invented contraceptives."
Sean snorted. "That's when the world went to hell in a handbasket, all right."
"And even if I did manage to do as you suggest," Sam continued, "having a baby no longer means a wedding automatically follows. The rules have changed since any of you got married."
"I still say if you want to get her to the altar, just get her pregnant," Phil asserted loudly. "It's the best thing that could happen to that girl, anyway. It's unnatural to be nearly thirty and still running around loose."
These guys talked as if it was the nineteenth century!
Paul Dubay pointed a gnarled finger at Sam. "Your grandfather knew what he was about, by God. You just gotta hold Willamina to that bequest. If'n she's your wife, she'll have to support your business, because it's the law. Wives can't publicly contradict their husbands." Paul shrugged one bony shoulder.
"They might even let her start coming to the town meetings again."
"You're getting your laws mixed up, Paul." Avery chuckled. "Wives can't testify against their husbands. Ain't no law about them contradicting us in public or private."
"It don't matter," Sean said to Avery. "Paul's still right about Abram's will. Sam just has to hold Willamina to it."
Sam sat back in his chair. How in hell had his grandfather fallen in with these throwbacks? Grammy Rose had had more power than Bram at home, and she damn well hadn't been shy about using it.
"I still say getting her pregnant would kill two birds with one stone," Phil said. "Not only will she feel obliged to marry you, but a baby will take some of that fight out of her."
"I sort of like that fight," Sam said, leaning his chair on its back two legs. "It keeps things interesting."
"Uh-oh," Sean Graves said, picking up his coffee mug. "Here comesDoris . If she hears us talking about this stuff, we'll get an earful, all right."
Sam set his chair back on its legs, and the four men suddenly got busy drinking their coffee.
"Morn'n,Doris ," Sam said, standing up and pulling over a chair from a nearby table for her. "Where's Mimi this morning? She's not ill, is she?"
"Her daughter went into labor last night, and she has to babysit the other three for the next few days,"Doris said, smiling at Sam as he helped her out of her coat.
"I see you've brought your sketch pad," he said when she set it down.
"I was up half the night designing our new label,"Doris said excitedly, sitting down and opening her pad.
"That's why I'm late this morning. I also tried to come up with a list of names for our product." She opened the pad on the table and turned it toward Sam. "I figure it should be something catchy. This label," she said, tapping the page with a pink fingernail, "is one we could use if we decide to call them Angel Cakes."
"Angel Cakes!" Phil sputtered. "Ain't nothing angelic about lobsters. They're one of the ugliest creatures God ever created." He reached over and turned the pad to see for himself. "Why, this isn't a lobster dressed like an angel, it's a kid." He pushed the pad back. "What's a half-naked, fat little kid got to do with lobster cakes?"
"He's not a kid, he's an angel. And if you weren't so tight with your dollar and would go to the doctor and get stronger glasses, you'd see that he's eating the lobster cakes." She flipped to the next page. "Or we could make it look like the cakes themselves are angels. See, I put wings and a halo on this one." She smiled at Sam expectantly. "What do you think of my ideas?"