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Erin lifted the pot in her hands as an explanation for not reciprocating the shake. “I’m so glad to meet you, Priscilla.”
“You can call me Sissy.”
“Okay.” Erin looked at Pawpaw. “You must be Ben.”
“I am Ben,” Pawpaw said with a delighted grin. “It’s nice to meet you, Erin.”
Brock just stared at her, wondering what she was doing standing in his pawpaw’s living room, inserting herself smack dab into their awkward family reunion. “Can I help you with something?”
Erin shook her head and smiled as if she’d forgotten she was carrying the pot. “Oh, this, yes.” She passed the pot to Brock. “I wish I could say I made you some soup as a welcome gift,” she said to Pawpaw. “I met Brock the other day when we dropped off the official welcome basket. I made some soup for a sick neighbor, but I just found out she’s been admitted to the hospital.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Pawpaw said.
“I am too. Anyway, I figured with you coming into town from Nashville, you might like a home-cooked meal.”
“Thank you, Erin,” Pawpaw said. “That’s very nice of you.”
His mom got that look on her face, the one that told Brock he was going to have to do damage control. “That’s super sweet of you, Erin,” she said and wrapped her bony arm around Erin’s shoulder. “I bet you thought a little homemade soup would help you get into my son’s pants and eventually his wallet.”
Erin blanched, blinking her big brown eyes.
Pawpaw shook his head. “Sissy …”
Brock stood frozen in place. She’d more than embarrassed him. She’d rendered him mute.
“I …” Erin stuttered and backed out of his mom’s grasp. She thumped her hand against her chest. “That’s not my intent. I … I didn’t even make the soup for Brock. Or Ben. I … I just didn’t want it to go to waste.”
“They’ll eat it, honey,” Sissy said in a sexy stage whisper that made him want to vomit. “They’ll eat it up good. But you should know from the get-go. I raised that son of mine on handouts, but he’s not very good at sharing with others.”
“That’s enough,” Brock said to his mother in a timbre he barely recognized. “Get your keys and get out.”
She tsked at him and shook her head. “See what I mean? Not worth the effort for a pretty girl like you.” Sissy brought two fingers to her lips like she was smoking a cigarette, kissed the tips, and then flicked her fingers in the air. “It’s been real. But it ain’t been real fun. I’ll see ya later, Paw,” she said as she slithered out the door.
Shame crept up Brock’s neck and set fire to his face. He placed the pot on the countertop and looked directly at Erin. “I’m sorry about my mother. She’s …”an embarrassment, a fool, the most unhappy person alive.“There’s no excuse.”
“It’s okay,” Erin lied, inching toward the door. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have stopped by without calling.”
Ben stepped forward to rescue Brock. “I’m glad you did, Erin. Brock and I appreciate the soup and your generosity.”
Pawpaw didn’t even try to explain his daughter’s behavior. How could he?
“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to get settled. Hope to see you around soon.” She disappeared out the door.
Brock was tired. After four consecutive fourteen-hour days spent putting the house together and trying to run his business, every muscle in his body ached. But nothing exhausted him more than encounters with his mother. He hung his head and rubbed the all too familiar pain in his chest.
“I’m sorry, Brock,” Pawpaw said. “You were right. She shouldn’t have come.”
“Don’t apologize for her. She meant every word.” He stepped into the small foyer, grabbed his coat from the rack he’d hung just that morning. “I’ll be right back.”
ChapterSeven
The chill stungErin’s lungs as she gulped air in and out, in and out, trying to calm her humiliated heart. She couldn’t process the events of the morning, not yet. Emotions swirled in her belly—too many to name—and left her feeling sick.
The guilt she’d felt after discovering Darlene was in the hospital for pneumonia. The soup she’d made—not with a giver’s heart but with intent to bribe—felt like poison in her hands. She was on her way home to toss it down the sink when she’d spotted the car in Brock’s drive. She figured she’d try to salvage the welcome committee’s reputation—and her conscience—with one grandiose gesture.
The whole outing had been a colossal disaster.
“Erin!”
