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Quaid had gently run one of his towels over Luna, drying her fur.
It had made her wonder what it would feel like to have those big hands on her.
Instead of finding out, she’d taken a shower and changed into the PJs and robe she’d shoved in her overnight bag. She would pick up the rest of her things when her mom was working.
“It’s a volunteer thing,” he replied. “I don’t know. I don’t understand it, either. And she married my father because she hadn’t married anyone else. At least that’s what I suspect happened. She went to college to find a husband because that’s what wealthy women did in those days.”
She wrinkled her nose at the incredibly sexist idea. “That’s so hard to even think about.”
His lips quirked up. “Of course it is to you, but it still happens. Especially around here. Anyway, she made it through and graduated, but without a husband, and for her that was a horrible failure. I once heard her telling a friend that she was perfectly horrified that she might have to get a job, but then my father came along and saved her from the ignominy of employment.”
The sheer irony swept over her. “Yes, well, my mother firmly believes that using anything but your hands to work is elitist and makes you one of those arrogant rich people.”
“What happened tonight, Jayna?” Quaid asked, turning serious. “What did you fight with her about? Your job?”
“She doesn’t think I do work at all. No. We fought over Sienna’s new job. It’s stupid and she’s done this all my life, and I still don’t understand it.” She wasn’t going to cryagain. The minute she’d seen Quaid standing in that doorway, she’d felt safe and she’d lost it. Everything that had happened crashed in on her, and she’d hugged him tight.
She kind of wished she was still hugging him.
“She doesn’t think Sienna should take the job?” Quaid asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No. It’s completely illogical. I never once thought my mom would be a problem. I knew she would fight like hell if she thought I was trying to get Sienna to move or something, but that’s not what’s happening. She’s still going to be right here in Papillon, so I have to wonder what my mother’s problem is. Then I find out that my uncle offered to pay for my college tuition and she turned him down. Do you have any idea how hard I had to work to make it through school? How long it took me to pay off my student loans?”
“Do you think she did that to try to keep you in town? There aren’t a lot of kids who are willing to bet on themselves the way you did.”
“I worked hard. I wasn’t about to go to community college. I had scholarships and grants. All I needed was like eight thousand a year. It took everything I had to get my degree. She could have made it easy on me. She could have...” She was close to breaking down again. “I guess it doesn’t matter. You know, I never once considered the possibility that my mom is a mean person. I always thought she didn’t understand me and I excused her behavior because life was pretty hard for her. But what she did to Sienna tonight, I don’t think I can ever forgive.”
He seemed to think about the situation, the quiet sitting easily between them. Shouldn’t it be awkward? Shouldn’t she feel odd sitting here with a man she didn’t truly know?
“She’s a single mom, right?”
“Yes, our dad left when we were kids, though I think my mom was relieved when he was gone.” There was more tothe story that she normally didn’t tell anyone, but somehow she wanted him to know. “He died in prison. I found out because I went looking for him to help me pay for college. I was pretty much willing to do anything. He was in for involuntary manslaughter. The DUIs weren’t enough to stop him.”
He nodded, absolutely no judgment on his face. “That had to be hard on your mother, and it likely made her feel some shame.”
“My mother’s never felt an ounce of shame.” Her mother was the most prideful woman she’d ever met.
“Honey, you can’t believe that.” He winced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay. It’s nice to hear an endearment. Most of the time if someone isn’t calling me by my name, it’s not affectionate. And yes, I can believe it. She thinks she’s better than everyone else.”
“Or she puts on a show because she knows there are people who look down on her because she’s poor. There are people who strike first if they think they’re going to take a hit. Even if no one was ever going to hit them in the first place. I suspect your mother’s like that. And my mother is a shining example of why.”
She would have to think about that. Was her mother’s identity so tied up with her class that she couldn’t see past it? Quaid’s mother certainly didn’t seem to be able to. “So why aren’t you? Like your mom, I mean.”
His lips curved slightly, but it was a bittersweet expression. “I was not a debutante, and I was not raised by a debutante.”
“You didn’t live with your mom?”
“Of course I did, but she didn’t exactly raise us,” Quaid corrected. “She was an affectionate mother who enjoyed having us around the dinner table and showing us off to friends, but Paul and I were raised by nannies and my father,when he was around. Mom was more interested in us when we got older, but by then I was my father’s shadow. In some ways Paul became her playmate. And growing up rich in a place like Papillon is different than in the city. It wasn’t like there were fifty kids with my parents’ kind of money to socialize with, so I played and hung out with kids of all kinds. My father used the money he made from working for the wealthy to fund his pro bono work. He was very comfortable around all kinds of people. He used to tell me that the law, when properly applied, was the great equalizer. The law in its purest form should see neither race nor sex nor economic disparity.”
She wished that was true. “Your father was a dreamer.”
He shrugged. “He was an idealist. But he always put that ‘should’ in there because he also believed we can’t fix problems if we don’t acknowledge they exist.”
“Your father was a good man.” She owed a lot to Wilson Havery. Many people in the town had, and it appeared Quaid was carrying on that tradition.
“He was. He was also a little rough around the edges, so he thought my mom could teach him how to be more comfortable in society, how all of us could. My grandmother on my dad’s side wasn’t prepared for any of it. She came from a family of eleven, straight off the islands. She was a Drummond.”
