She glanced around at the old-fashioned lobby.Not that much had changed.On one side of the building stood the teller windows, on the other, the desks for the various departments.The marble floor had been imported from Italy and would outlast the town.The walls looked like they’d received a recent coat of paint, and the woodwork gleamed from constant care.Everything was exactly as she remembered.Even the old couple waiting by the safety deposit box cage looked as if they’d stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting.Going Banking, she thought, giving the imaginary artwork a title, then giggling nervously.Beside her Billie danced from one foot to the other.
“This place is cool,” Billie said, her loud voice drifting up to the arched ceiling and echoing.
“Shh,” Jane warned, before her daughter could exercise hervocal cords in a serious way.“People are trying to do business here.No talking.”
“You’re talking,” Billie pointed out.
Jane prayed for patience.Taking a deep breath, she located the desk with the New Accounts plaque and headed that way.
The woman behind the desk looked up and smiled.Then her smile faded, and a faint frown appeared between her eyebrows.Jane struggled to put a name to the semifamiliar face.Oh, no.Old Miss Yarns.She’d taught Jane’s fourth-grade Sunday School class and had been stern with her requirements and free with her discipline.
“Jane?Jane Southwick?”Miss Yarns rose to her feet and held out her hand.“It has been several years, has it not?”
“Yes, Miss Yarns.”The walls of this old institution would probably crack and fall if Miss Yarns used a contraction, Jane thought.“Nine.Years.”She grabbed Billie’s hand and drew her closer, as much for protection as to be polite.“My daughter, Belle Charlene.”
Billie glared at her mother.“Billie,” she said, then smiled.“I bet you can slide real good on this floor, huh?”she said, staring at the marble tiles.“You ever take your shoes off and—”
“No.”Miss Yarns blanched and resumed her seat.“I had heard you were back in town, Jane.Do you want to open an account with Barrington First National?”
No, Miss Yarns, I came over to New Accounts because of the stimulating company.“Yes,” she said demurely, sitting in one of the cloth-covered chairs in front of the woman’s desk and pointing to tell Billie to do the same.“I have an account in San Francisco that I’ve closed.”She slipped her purse off her shoulder and onto her lap, then pulled out a cashier’s check.
“Very well.”She reached into her desk and withdrew an application form.Miss Yarns didn’t believe in rings or bracelets, and she would rather be flogged than wear earrings.Just a plain gold watch and a suit so conservative she’d look at home sitting in on the Supreme Court.“Will this be a joint account?”
“No, it’s—” Oh, God.Jane clamped her mouth shut.It was too late.Miss Yarns’s perfectly plucked brows rose, and she glanced from Billie, bouncing in her seat, to Jane’s bare left hand.Damn small towns, Jane thought.And herself for being fool enough to come back.
“You will be the only person signing on this account.”It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“I see.”
They should have gone to the pool right after lunch and taken their chances with drowning.It would have been more fun.
“And the name on the account?”
“Mine.”
“I know that, dear.Thelastname.”
Jane took a deep breath.In San Francisco, no one had known her well enough to realize Southwick was her maiden name.Everyone assumed she was divorced.Or didn’t care.But this wasn’t San Francisco.It was her hometown.Maybe Miss Yarns would think she’d gone back to her maiden name because—Yeah, right.It shouldn’t matter what this old relic thought of her.In a way it didn’t.But rumors got started so easily.And Billie would be the one hurt by them.
“Southwick,” she said at last.“Jane Southwick.”
Those perfect brows rose a notch higher, as the older woman glanced speculatively at Billie.“I see.”
Did she?Jane wondered.What if the town of Orchard figured out the truth before she got the courage to tell Adam?
“Why does that lady keep looking at me?”Billie asked in a stage whisper.
Miss Yarns had the grace to flush slightly and glance away.
“I don’t know,” Jane lied, knowing she could never explain this to her daughter.Not yet, anyway.
“Need any help here?”
Jane looked up and saw Adam standing beside his employee’s desk.
“Adam!”Billie scrambled out of her chair and raced to him.With the trust of a child who knows she will never be allowed to fall, she launched herself upward.He caught her under her arms and swung her around.
