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“God no.” Anne lowered her basket to the floor, her expression humorless. “I can’t imagine Cheryl’s very fond of you. She’s never been a fan, excuse the pun, of attractive single women. If she knew you used to be famous, or the scandal you were involved in, spreading it around town would be her personal crusade.”
Disheartened, Jenna sighed. “So you know all about it then.”
“I do.”
“And?”
A gentle and surprising glow of compassion shone in Anne’s eyes. “And nothing.”
Jenna blinked her surprise. She remembered seeing nothing but malice sketched on teenaged Annabelle’s face. Before Jenna could assign word to thought, Anne held up her hand to interrupt. “I doubt if there’s one alum from Pinehill High whodidn’tfollow your career. I’ve read everything that’s ever been written about you.”
“Not everything was true.”
Nodding, Anne tightened her lips as if to blanket any emotion on her face. When she finally spoke, her tone was gentle and hushed. “I know all about what happened to you and your husband…his trial and all that. It was big news even here on the east coast.”
The broken fluorescent light picked that moment to act up. It hummed from above, and white light flickered to pale yellow before the aisle was cast in a gloomy gray. Anne cleared her throat and resumed speaking. “After he was acquitted, those crap tabloids said you were pregnant. They claimed it was the result of an affair you had with the man your husband beat up. You were always too much a goody-goody, so I never believed it.”
Chills broke out on Jenna’s arms and she rubbed at her sleeves. It had been years since she’d had a conversation about the events that tore her life apart.
Anne gently reached for her hand. “Other stories said you had been ra…” Anne closed her eyes and released an onerous breath. “I can’t even say it out loud.” She dipped her head toward a bin filled with tubes of hair glitter and fingered the plastic containers as if they aroused a sudden interest. “It kills me to think that bastard never had to pay for what he did to you.” Rubbing at her eyes she continued. “You were never my favorite person back in school. You or your friend, Randi Freed…both of you so blonde, so pretty.” On a sigh Anne muttered, “jealousy…what a ridiculous emotion.” She walked to the front of the store and placed her basket on the counter.
Jenna followed in disbelief. “Are you saying you came here today to tell me you’re not going to give me away?”
“As far as I’m concerned, you’re just another mom and the owner of this store.” Anne snatched a pair of bright orange sunglasses from a rack to add to her purchases. “You can also consider me a customer. My daughter will love these things.”
“Tell me about her,” Jenna begged. “What was Cheryl trying to get at?”
Anne lifted her head at a proud angle. “My daughter is beautiful. My daughter is smart and kindhearted. My daughter has Cerebral Palsy.”
Blindsided by the admission, Jenna fought to keep pity from altering her expression; but Anne stood looking unaffected and composed. “You don’t need to say anything. It’s classified as mild and she goes to recreational therapy when she needs it. The condition primarily affects one side of her body and she walks with a slight limp. Riley occasionally drops things, and her speech is a little slow when she’s tired. Still, some people mistake the slurring for stupidity.”
“People like Cheryl Baldwin.”
“Exactly.” Anne clucked her tongue. “And that nasty little brat of hers Tiffany. Ironic, isn’t it? My daughter being the victim of the class bully. But whose shoulders are better than mine when Riley needs a good cry? There isn’t a soul on the planet with a clearer understanding of what goes on in the mind of a spoiled brat.”
Appearing tense, angry almost, Anne took a beat before resuming. “My daughter understands that Tiffany and her bitchy, little friends aren’t the only game in town. There are other children in the third grade, and my baby will make some friends. She’s a good kid and doesn’t care about being in the right clique.” Smiling, Anne winked. “Kind of like a girl I knew back in high school.”
Teary-eyed, Jenna grasped Anne’s hand. “Let’s go in the back and rummage through the new stuff I haven’t put out for display yet.”
****
It was both a relief and a happy surprise to learn Annabelle Walker hadn’t grown up to be an adult version of the spoiled, insensitive teenager she had once been. Motherhood often taught a woman a life’s lesson she could learn nowhere else.
Jenna met her for coffee the next day. They took a corner table at the gourmet shop in town. It was a place, brand new, but designed to transport customers back to their grandmother’s kitchen. Antique coffee grinders and cannisters were on shelves, and a rainbow of color glinted off depression-glass creamers and sugar bowls in a display case. Chintz curtains hung from each window.
Jenna listened as Anne confessed to rebelling in college and hooking up with a boy her parents hadn’t approved of. “The only thing he did quicker than get me into bed was disappear after I told him I was pregnant. You see, I had my own secret back then.”
“I never heard anything about you having a baby.”
After dumping a heaping spoonful of sugar into her coffee, Anne stirred with urgency. Dots of red bloomed high on her cheeks. “My mother hid the news like she used to hide her mad money from my father.” Anne bit into a muffin fat with chocolate and walnuts. The angrier she looked telling her story, the more vehemently she chewed. “My parents made me leave school and sent me away as if I’d gotten pregnant during the damned Eisenhower administration. They wanted me to give my baby up for adoption. I still haven’t totally forgiven them.”
Jenna rested a comforting hand atop Anne’s. “But you’re married and happy now, right?”
“I am. I met my husband right after Riley was born and he adopted her. He also encouraged me to go back to school and get my degree. He’s wonderful.” Anne’s smile returned, and she pushed her plate away. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
It was Jenna’s turn to let life and circumstance creep silent into her memory. Tearing a ribbon of pastry from a cinnamon roll, she gave her shoulders a glum shrug. “When you’ve moved around as much as I have, relationships never really stick.” She slowly rotated her spoon in her coffee. “I haven’t had a real date since forever, unless you count a couple of friendly lunches with Ash Baldwin. I’m going to the Chamber of Commerce dinner with him.”
“Really?” Anne drew out the word musically. “Ash is the prime catch around here. He’s pretty hot…richer than God, too. Just be careful of Cheryl.”
