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“It means when you’re poor, people assume the worst of you.” Her head lifted, and her bright, fierce gaze met his. “It means you have no right to be pretty or smart, and if you work hard, it’s a fluke because, God help you, you’re little more than a gold digger or a social climber. Being poor shouldn’t be a disease. It shouldn’t be the stigma it is, either. I know why Jenny moved to Chicago after she left school. She wanted to escape Marietta and everyone who thought they knew her. I wish I’d moved, too.” She wiped a hand across her eyes. “I wish I’d gone—”
He kissed her then, kissing her to silence the stream of words, kissing to try to distract her from the pain. He hated it when she hurt, and he most of all hated it when he, or his family, was responsible for that pain.
Her mouth quivered beneath his and her soft warm lips tasted of salt. Normally she kissed him back, but tonight she was too sad.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured against her mouth before lifting his head and stroking a silky blonde tendril back from her cheek.
“Sorry you kissed me?” she said huskily, her cheeks flushed, her lips soft and pink and so very kissable.
“Sorry my grandfather was such an ass, and sorry society sucks—”
“It’s alright. I’m stronger than I look.”
“You’ve had a lot of adversity.”
“And I’m successful because of it.” She smiled a lopsided smile, but he was worried because the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
They somehow managed to get through dinner, although afterward Amanda couldn’t remember what they discussed, or even what she ate. She sat at the table, feeling as if in a fog, her head cloudy, thoughts and emotions jumbling together.
It wasn’t until Tyler cleared the plates, leaving Bette and Amanda alone together at the table, that Amanda asked, “All this time you’ve known I was Julie Scranton’s daughter?”
“Yes,” Bette answered.
Amanda didn’t know where to look. She didn’t know what to feel. “I don’t understand,” she said huskily.
She’d known Bette for years… almost half her life. Why keep this a secret?
Tyler entered the dining room with the cake and stopped when he heard what they were discussing. “Why don’t you two talk while I serve the cake?” Tyler suggested.
“I think I’ll have to pass,” Amanda said breathlessly, rising. “It’s getting late and I’m fading quickly. But dinner was delicious, Bette. Thank you for including me again tonight.”
Bette rose, too. “Don’t leave yet! Let’s have the rum cake first.”
Amanda glanced at her watch. “Save me a piece, okay? Because you do make the best rum cake in all of Marietta, but I’m hosting a staff meeting before we open in the morning and I still have to prep for the meeting and then I should try to sleep—”
“But you’re not going to be able to sleep, not either of you, if you don’t talk now,” Tyler interrupted. “I know you’re upset, and so does Gram. Give her a chance to explain, Mandy. Please?”
Amanda stiffened. He’d just called her Mandy. Until now it had always been Amanda. She held her breath, air bottling in her lungs, until she felt a little dizzy, which only added to her confusion.
Tonight so many things had happened, and it was, frankly, too much. Small towns had tight connections, but this was a little too tight. Tyler’s dad, Patrick, had dated her mom, and her mom, as a teenager, had spent hours in this very house.
Her mom had never said a word about the Justice family, or Bette, even though she knew Bette was her favorite client, and a dear friend.
And Bette… Bette had never said a word about knowing her mother, either.
The connections weren’t just tight at the moment, they felt suffocating.
Amanda stood frozen in place, ambivalent and exhausted. She didn’t know what to do. Her brain told her she should go home because she was too tired and sensitive to process anymore tonight and yet another part of her felt troubled and conflicted and didn’t want to leave until things were resolved.
He left the dining room and she slowly sat back down. “Bette, this seems like a bad joke,” she said after a moment.
And when the older woman said nothing, Amanda continued, “Why didn’t you ever tell me that the girl Patrick was dating in high school, the one his father disapproved of, was my mother? Don’t you think that was relevant to the story?”
“I wanted to, but then I also wanted to protect you. If you had never met Tyler, would it have mattered to you? Would it have changed things between us?”
“All I know is that I did meet Tyler, and it has changed things between us—”
“Please don’t say that.”
Amanda looked away, holding her breath, air bottled in her lungs, making her already aching chest burn. She held her breath so long that little spots danced before her eyes. She finally let the breath go, but when she exhaled, tears started to sting her eyes. She felt absolutely broken for reasons she couldn’t even articulate. “Have you always known I was Julie’s daughter?”
“Yes. You and your sisters look just like her, except her hair was a little darker blonde.”
“Dad was the towhead,” she said numbly.
Bette nodded. “He was very handsome. He caused quite a stir in town when he arrived.”
“You remember all that?”
“I do.”
“And you never thought to tell me any of this?”
“In all fairness, I thought it was Patrick’s story to tell, not mine.”
“Why? My mom doesn’t matter? She’s not allowed to have a voice?”
“Well, why didn’t she tell you about Patrick? Why didn’t she tell you about me? Have you never talked about me? Has she ever been to your salon and seen the chair with my name on it?”
“She has,” Amanda answered in a low voice.
“But she didn’t comment on it? She didn’t ask questions?”
“No.”
Bette said nothing, and Amanda was on her feet again, pacing the length of the dining room. She felt chilled and she rubbed her arms, trying to warm herself and yet the block of ice in her chest just seemed to grow larger, and colder. “I don’t understand any of this.” Her words came out broken. “I wish I didn’t know any of this.”
“It’s why I never told you—”
“But why did you come to me in the first place? You were Nell’s customer for thirty-five years. You were so loyal to her, and then I started there, and you switched to me and I never questioned it. I realize now I should have, but I was nineteen, just a college sophomore. It didn’t cross my mind that there was any connection between us, other than you thought I was a talented stylist.”
“You were, and are.”
“But that’s not why you switched from Nell, was it? You switched because I was Julie’s daughter.”
“I wanted to get to know you better, yes.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me then that you’d known my mother? Why never mention her all these years?”
“I cared about your mom. I had grown very close to her during those years she dated Patrick. When it all fell apart, I took it very hard. I missed her. I missed having her in my life. I missed having a girl in the house. Julie had become like a daughter to me—”
“Please. Please don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s the truth.”
“I don’t know, but it’s uncomfortable. And upsetting. Because if she was like a daughter to you, wouldn’t you have had a relationship with her? If she was like a daughter, why don’t you and she speak?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Or did your husband put his foot
down, and you just fell in line? You and Patrick?”
“Patrick loved her.”
“Right. Everybody loved her.” Amanda could barely see through the tears. She was close to losing it, but she wouldn’t do that here. She couldn’t fall apart here, not in Bette’s house. “I have to go. I can’t listen to any more tonight. It’s too much. Please tell Tyler goodbye.”
Tyler was glad to have time alone in the kitchen while Gram and Amanda talked in the other room.
He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on his grandmother’s revelations during dinner, but now that he had some time to himself, he was shocked by what he’d learned. His dad and Amanda’s mom had dated in high school, and not just dated, but by all accounts, had been deeply in love. They’d been nearly inseparable for two and a half years. But then his grandfather had objected to Patrick’s attachment to Julie, and so his dad left Montana, going to California for college to escape his father and his control. It explained plenty of things about the past, but not all.
Tyler stopped wiping down clean counters to listen as the living room had gone ominously quiet. He couldn’t hear anything anymore. Dropping the dish towel he headed to the living room and found his grandmother still sitting at the dining room table, face covered, crying into her hands.
“Gram,” he said, crouching next to her. “Sssh, don’t cry. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” she choked. “It might not ever be.”
“Nonsense. Where did she go?”
“Home.”
He lifted his head and looked to the door, surprised, and then not, that Amanda had left without saying goodbye. “It’ll be fine. It will sort out soon.”
“You didn’t see the way she looked at me. She looked at me as if she didn’t even know me… the same way Julie looked at me all those years ago after she and Patrick broke up. One day she was the daughter I’d never had, and the next, she was a stranger.”
“Amanda’s not going to cut you off. I promise you that.”
“She’s so hurt, Tyler. She’s so hurt and it’s all my fault.”
