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She thought again about Eli saying Momma had been cooking for the last few days and Sylvie scratched her itchy palm.
“Dinner’s ready!” Momma yelled into the other part of the house, and Sylvie winced.
She thought again about how she hadn’t been able to really prepare Heath in the event that her mother was on the hunt, out of control, ready to shoot first and ask questions later. Sylvie almost laughed out loud, her nerves nearly getting the better of her.
Whatever happened, Sylvie fervently hoped that Heath wouldn’t decide that he would never see her again after that evening.
She shook herself. Momma wasn’t out to ruin their relationship. She was simply concerned about Sylvie and the boys’ welfare, which wasn’t the worst thing ever.
Eli and Heath entered the dining room. Each man had a baby in his arms, and she watched Eli give her mother a small kiss on the cheek as he presented Jadyn for her inspection.
Momma gave Jadyn a quick squeeze, but her smile fell as she took in Heath. She muttered something under her breath as she moved to give Quentyn a similar greeting as his brother.
The whole thing was embarrassingly awkward. Heath tried to give Momma his hand to greet her as well, but it was clear when Momma sniffed and turned away that she didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Sylvie felt a headache coming on and had a burning desire to tell her mother off for being rude to Heath.
Heath gave her a look that said he wasn’t upset by what Sachet had done. Sylvie’s cheeks were burning from the snub, though. She tried to remember her new positive attitude, to hope for the best. It was just dinner and it would be over in just a couple of short hours.
It was feeling more and more, though, that a positive attitude was a hopelessly naive approach to take with her mother.
Chapter Twenty Six
MOMMA PUT THE TWINS IN a bassinet Eli had set up so the babies could be close by while everyone ate.
After they were all seated, Momma reached out and grabbed Eli’s and Sylvie’s hands. Momma liked to say grace before the meal. Sylvie wasn’t sure what Heath was going to think about this either.
Heath took her hand, and Sylvie saw the twinkle in his eye. Despite everything, he was enjoying himself. She knew that he and Eli got along well and talked about sports, cars, and all of the other things that men found endlessly fascinating, but most women did not.
After Momma said grace, everyone began filling their plates.
“Mrs. Jones … I’m sorry, Mrs. Ford,” Heath said, correcting himself, “this looks delicious.”
Sylvie grimaced at his screw-up. He was so used to everyone referring to her mother as Momma Jones that he forgot that her last name was actually Ford now.
She saw the look of exasperation cross her mother’s face. Sylvie looked at Eli, but it wasn’t clear if the older man had even noticed; he seemed so intent on the food on his plate.
“Thank you,” Momma said. That was all.
That was when Sylvie started to realize that perhaps her optimism had been misplaced. The looks that Momma threw in Heath’s direction definitely didn’t indicate a welcome of any kind. And then, the fact that she wasn’t saying anything at all was very uncharacteristic of her. Sylvie started to suspect a set-up.
“Good eating, Sachet. You are a dream in the kitchen. I’m a lucky man,” Eli said.
Sylvie appreciated his efforts to get Momma was in a better mood.
They ate in silence. It was awkward. Heath made several attempts to draw her mother out in conversation, but each time Sachet answered with a single word. It was clear that she had no interest in being engaged in any conversation at all.
Heath shot questioning glances at Sylvie several times, but she could only shrug. If Momma wanted to talk, she would talk. So she and Heath started exchanging stories about the latest cute and/or smart and/or gross thing that the twins had done.
It didn’t matter if it was a silly story about them rolling over, or smiling at them, or a new toy that both boys seemed to like. Sylvie was aware that really it was just the two of them filling empty air. Eli would occasionally stop them and ask a question, but it was always a mundane one.
Finally, Momma’s head snapped up. Sylvie guessed that whatever she’d been holding back was about to come erupting forth. She sent a prayer out to the universe that all would survive the deluge, whatever it might be.
“So where did you say you two met again?” Momma asked in a snippy tone.
“Chicago,” Sylvie and Heath said at the same time, in stereo.
Momma pointed her knife in Heath’s direction. “You’re not from Chicago, though. You’re from where again?”
Sylvie’s intuition was going crazy. Everything was turning bad. Damn. That’d teach her to think positively.
“I’m from Seattle,” Heath answered politely, even though Sachet didn't deserve his politeness.
“That’s right. So you have family there in Seattle?”
“Oh, I don’t come from a big family,” he said. He had neatly avoided the question and given a semi-answer as well.
“That’s interesting,” Momma said. “Because you look really familiar. I swear I’ve seen a picture of you recently.”
“You wouldn’t have seen him anywhere before,” Sylvie said. “So Eli, how are things going at the shop?”
Eli opened his mouth to answer when Momma interrupted him. “No, no, Sylvie. I have seen him before. But the funny thing was the pictures said his last name was Collins. Not Cartwright.”
Sylvie’s heart dropped all the way down to her lower stomach.
Heath carefully placed his silverware across the edges of his plate. He didn’t look at anyone or say anything.
Momma bulldozed onward. “And Heath Collins, as it turns out, is some kind of big shot, who makes all sorts of big business deals. So yo
u’re sure you don’t know who Heath Collins is? Still gonna stick to this Cartwright lie?”
“I knew it would come out sooner or later,” he said. “I am Heath Collins.”
Sylvie couldn’t breathe. Her chest had constricted or all the air in the room had somehow evaporated. She didn’t know what to do to control the situation.
And that was when Momma rounded on her.
Sylvie’s eyes widened at the catlike move.
Sachet pointed at Sylvie. “You’ve known all this time that he was lying to the whole family and you didn’t say anything. I’m so disappointed in you, Sylvie Jones. You’ve known all this time and you didn’t have the decency to tell your own mother the truth.”
“That’s not fair,” Heath said, his face flushing, red streaking across his cheekbones. “I haven’t told Sylvie my real last name either.”
Sylvie hung her head. Heath hadn’t hesitated to defend her while she had allowed her mother to attack him without stepping in to stop it. She felt like an ass.
And a liar. Again. Damn.
Once again, by hiding the truth, she had put herself in hotter water than ever.
She focused on the issue at hand. Right now, her mother was making a great big mess of her entire life.
“Where are you getting all this, Momma?” she asked.
Momma crossed her arms over her bountiful bosom and curled her upper lip in triumph. “I had to use your computer the other day to look up something for the twins on Web MD. I saw there was a folder on your home screen called Chicago. You’ve said you met Heath in Chicago, so I was curious and clicked on the folder. And guess what I found? All sorts of articles and notes about Mr. Big Shot Heath Collins. And they went back all the way to before the babies were born.”
Sylvie couldn’t look at Heath, couldn’t bear to see his expression. She set her fork down with a trembling hand.
Momma went in for the kill stroke. “You knew who this man was this entire time, all through your pregnancy. And you never told us the truth. Shame on you! On the both of you!”
Sylvie dared to sneak a glance in Heath’s direction. He was staring down at his plate as if he thought that he could find the meaning of life on it. He was very still.
