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Meg already knew that, but she hated being ordered around. “Contrary to popular belief, none of you get a vote. And I’m going back to the church.”
Torie snorted. “Do you really think he’ll let you do that after what happened?”
“Ted doesn’t let me do anything.” She stomped back to the cart. “Thank Shelby for her generosity, but I’ve made my plans.”
Torie came after her. “Meg, you can’t move in with Ted. You really can’t.”
Meg pretended not to hear and drove off.
She wasn’t up to working on her jewelry while she waited for customers, so she pulled out a copy of American Earth she’d borrowed from Ted, but not even the words of the country’s most astute environmentalists could hold her attention. She set the book aside as the first foursome of women appeared.
“Meg, we heard about the break-in.”
“You must have been terrified.”
“Who do you think did it?”
“I’ll bet they wanted to get to your jewelry.”
She scooped ice into paper cups, poured drinks, and answered their questions as briefly as she could. Yes, it was scary. No, she didn’t have any idea who’d done it. Yes, she intended to be a lot more careful in the future.
When the next foursome appeared, she heard more of the same, but it still didn’t sink in right away. Only after they were all out on the fairway did it occur to her that not one of those eight women had mentioned Ted’s kiss at the luncheon or his declaration that he and Meg were a couple.
She didn’t understand it. The women in this town loved nothing more than to pry into other people’s business, especially Ted’s, so politeness wasn’t holding them back. What was going on?
She didn’t put the pieces together until the next foursome began pulling their carts up to the tee. And then she understood.
None of the women she’d spoken to had been at the luncheon, and they didn’t know. The twenty guests who’d witnessed what had happened had formed a conspiracy of silence.
She sank back into the cart and tried to imagine the telephone lines buzzing last night. She could hear each of Francesca’s guests swearing on her Bible, or the latest issue of InStyle magazine, not to breathe a word to anyone. Twenty gossipy Wynette women had taken a vow of silence. It couldn’t last, not under normal circumstances. But where Ted was concerned, it just might.
She served the next group, and sure enough, they only talked about the break-in, with no mention of Ted. But that changed half an hour later when the final group, a twosome, pulled up. As soon as she saw the women getting out of the cart, she knew this conversation would be different. Both of them had been at the luncheon. Both of them had seen what had transpired. And they were both coming toward her with decidedly unfriendly grimaces on their faces.
The shorter of the two, a leathery brunette everybody called Cookie, got right to the point. “We all know you’re the one behind that break-in at the church, and we know why.”
Meg should have seen this coming, but she hadn’t.
The taller woman yanked on her golf glove. “You wanted to move in with him, and he didn’t want you to, so you decided to make it impossible for him to refuse. You trashed your own place before you went to work that morning at Francesca’s.”
“You can’t really believe that,” Meg said.
Cookie yanked a club from her bag without getting her customary drink. “You didn’t really think you could pull this off, did you?”
After they left, Meg stomped around the tee for a while, then slumped down on the wooden bench by the tee marker. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock, and ripples of heat already hung in the air. She should leave. She had no prospects here. No real friends. No job worth doing. But she was staying anyway. She was staying because the man she’d fallen so stupidly in love with had jeopardized the future of this town he cared so much about to let the world know how important she was to him.
She hugged the knowledge to her heart.
Her cell began to ring not long after. The first call came from Ted. “I hear the local female mafia is trying to get you out of my house,” he said. “Don’t pay attention to them. You’re staying with me, and I hope you’re planning to make something good for dinner.” A long pause. “I’ll take care of dessert.”
Her next call came from Spence, so she didn’t answer, but he left a message saying he’d be back in two days, and he’d be sending a limo to pick her up for dinner. After that Haley called asking Meg to meet her at the snack shop on her two o’clock break. When Meg got there, she found an unwelcome surprise in the form of Birdie Kittle sitting across from her daughter at one of the green metal bistro tables.
Birdie was dressed for work in an aubergine knit suit. She’d draped the jacket over the back of the chair, revealing a white camisole and plump, lightly freckled arms. Haley hadn’t bothered with makeup, which would have improved her appearance if she hadn’t been so pale and tense. She jumped up from the table like a jack-in-the-box. “Mom has something to tell you.”
Meg didn’t want to hear anything Birdie Kittle had to say, but she took the empty chair between them. “How are you feeling?” she asked Haley. “Better than yesterday, I hope.”
“Okay.” Haley sat back down and started picking at the chocolate chip cookie lying on a square of waxed paper in front of her. Meg recalled the conversation she’d overheard at the luncheon.
“Haley was with that Kyle Bascom again last night,” Birdie had said. “I swear to God, if she gets pregnant . . .”
