Shadows of Yesterday
Page 38

Leigh didn’t want to broach that subject yet. She would learn to cope with Chad’s career, and cope with it she would. Loving him as she did, she was determined to overcome her antipathy for his work. Besides, her mother was asking about Chad’s profession for another reason entirely—to determine his financial and social status. She had never quite forgiven Leigh for marrying a mere government official. Would she ever be surprised, Leigh thought maliciously.
She smiled. “Yes, Mother. He has a job. He… uh… he works on oil wells.”
“A roughneck!” her mother screeched. “Leigh, think, for God’s sake! You’re intending to marry a roughneck who comes from God knows what and God knows where and will treat you God knows how. Harve,” Lois repeated, grinding out the name in an effort to urge him on.
“Leigh, honey, we’re not saying to call the wedding off, but it might be wise to postpone it until we’ve all had time to get to know each other. We can’t dictate what you do, you’re a grown woman, but you’re acting rashly. We don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve got not only yourself, but your baby to think of.”
Leigh took his objections one at a time. “First, we’re not postponing getting married. We’re not going to live together until we do, so we can hardly wait as it is. Second, you’ll both have a chance to get to know Chad today. He’s invited you to his house for lunch and I’ve accepted for you.” She ignored her mother’s distressed wail. “Third, I’m glad you recognize that I’m a grown woman, old enough and mature enough to make my own decisions. I’m telling you now that I’ll marry Chad whether you approve of him or not. And last but far from least, he adores Sarah and she him. Now, I think that’s everything. Chad will be here in half an hour and I still need to dress. Excuse me.”
There was a triumphant smile on her face as she left them in stunned silence. She put on a blue jersey sweater-dress Chad hadn’t seen before. The soft cowl collar caressed her jawline and that particular shade of cobalt blue deepened the blue of her eyes and enhanced her coloring. She awoke Sarah, who had been taking her morning nap, and dressed her in a frilly jump suit with legs like old-fashioned pantaloons.
When Leigh returned to the living room, her parents were where she had left them. Harve Jackson shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Lois sat in stern rigidity on the sofa.
“Will you sit in your swing like a nice girl until Chad gets here?” Leigh asked of Sarah.
“I disapprove of those contraptions, Leigh. I held you when you were a baby. You modern mothers think so little of your children.”
Leigh bit her lip in an effort not to lash out at her mother that no one could love a baby more than she loved Sarah. Instead, she answered levelly, “I know that holding and fondling are important, Mother. I spend hours with Sarah each day rocking her, petting her, but I do it at my whim, not hers. That way she doesn’t get spoiled into expecting me to drop everything and pick her up when she cries.”
“There’s nothing wrong with—”
The doorbell had never been such a welcome intrusion. “There’s Chad,” Leigh said quickly, going to the door and all but falling into his reinforcing arms. Now she wasn’t the only soldier to fight the battle at the front.
“Hi,” he said, catching her to him and, not caring that her parents were watching, kissing her thoroughly.
“Hi,” she responded when he released her. Her eyes warned him to prepare himself. He winked at her. Taking his arm, she pushed him forward. “Mother, Father, this is Chad Dillon. Chad, my parents, Lois and Harve Jackson.”
He turned to Lois and acknowledged the introduction with a nod of his head. Leigh’s mother didn’t extend her hand to be shaken. “Mrs. Jackson, I’m pleased to meet you. I hope Leigh has your recipe for potato salad. I ate some of yours here once. It was delicious.” He leaned forward to whisper, “Even better than my own mom’s, but don’t ever tell her I said so.”
Completely taken aback, and not knowing quite how to respond, Lois Jackson sputtered, “Well… th… thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said with more civility than warmth.
Chad turned to Harve. He was smiling on the young man who had managed to fluster his wife. “Sir,” Chad said, shaking Harve’s hand firmly. When the introductions were over, Chad knelt down to speak to Sarah, whose chubby, lace-bordered legs were pumping with excitement at the sound of his voice.
Leigh saw her mother taking in Chad as a skeptical insurance assessor would a wrecked car. Chad lacked nothing in the manners and grooming departments. That he was arrestingly handsome was apparent at a glance, and that he knew how to dress took only a little longer to determine. His camel-colored slacks fit him in a way only custom tailoring could achieve, and the cut of his dark brown coat had the unmistakable hallmarks of a noted French designer. Beneath the coat he wore a cream-colored cable-knit turtleneck sweater that accented the darkness of his hair.
He stood and rubbed his hands together in a gesture that was achingly familiar to Leigh. “I hope Leigh extended my invitation to lunch.”
“Yes, thank you, Chad,” Harve said before Lois could open her mouth in either acceptance or refusal.
“Then is everyone ready?” Chad asked.
Leigh could almost pity her mother as surprise after surprise unfolded, the first of which was the Ferrari. Leigh thought her mother’s eyes would pop out of their sockets at the sight of the gleaming blue sports car.
“Say, Chad, that’s some car!” Harve exclaimed as they trooped down the sidewalk.
“You’ll have to drive it sometime,” Chad offered graciously.
“I’d love to.” Leigh was surprised at her father’s enthusiasm, for he always drove a conservative Buick himself.
“I’m sorry it won’t hold everyone. Do you mind following us?” Chad asked.
“Not at all, not at all.” Harve steered his awestruck wife toward their car while Chad helped situate Leigh and the baby in the Ferrari.
When they were on their way, Chad glanced toward her. “Well?”
“They were adamantly opposed to the whole idea until you came in. Potato salad, indeed!”
He grinned. “Hell, I could tell right off I needed to come up with something terrific and ‘I can see where your daughter gets her good looks’ is such a cliché.”