Mary's Men (8 page)

The idea of telling the faceless woman about her relationship, the one Mary was still getting used to, gave her the cold sweats. “Or we could not tell her the details.”

Thomas frowned. “What do you mean? Don’t you think it’s best if we start how we mean to go on?”

Mary groaned and put water on to boil. “I honestly don’t know. Paul? What do you think?”

“I think I’m tired and want to eat,” Paul said, obviously uncomfortable with the topic and even more obviously exhausted. “We can figure out what to do with Mom tomorrow before she gets here. If she pisses you off too much I’ll tell her not to come over again.”

Thomas frowned at his brother, but didn’t protest.

Mary stirred rice into water. “I don’t want to cause trouble. She’s your mother and you both love her.”

“Well, you’re my wife and I love you too. She had her time as the main woman in my life and now that’s you.”

Thomas nodded. “He’s right. We’ll tell her what’s going on and leave it on her shoulders.”

“Tell her?” Mary squeaked. “We can’t tell a woman who is already not going to like me that I’m in a relationship with both of you. We’ll ease her into me being married to Paul, and once she’s past that shock we can share a little more. Good golly, what is she going to think when Duane gets home?”

Thomas’s face pinched up. “One thing at a time.”

Paul kissed her cheek. “From the constipated look on Thomas’s face, I’m sure you can infer that won’t go well. We’ll follow your lead, baby. Now can we please eat? I have to drop off that check and hit the barn again before bed. A few of the cows were bloating. I told the guys I’d head down after dinner so they could take a couple of hours off.”

Maybe she’d join him. And just stay in the barn until after their mother’s visit. Bloated cows sounded like better company.

Chapter 8

Finding the grocery store in little Morris presented no problem at all. Finding the perfect meal to please a mother-in-law already determined to hate her proved much more challenging.

Mary grabbed a box of stuffing from the grocery store shelf and put it back. If she wanted to make a good impression, she had to bring her A-game. She’d make garlic bread and then make stuffing from it like her mom had for family dinners. Mother Paraby would certainly notice the difference.

Mary had only slept a few hours the night before, despite the twins’ reassurances. Even sandwiched between them, surrounded by their love and presence, she’d felt alone in preparing for the upcoming event. Their loyalty meant the world to her, but the thought of causing tension, or even adding a rift, between mother and child hurt her heart. She missed her family enough to know she never wanted another to go through such a separation. After not seeing her mother in five years… She put the thought away. The visit would be lovely.

With her mother close on her mind, Mary stopped in the baking aisle for ingredients for banana pudding. A little taste of home would be a comfort, no matter how the evening went.

She toted her basket to the front of the small grocery store. Thursday mornings looked like the time to shop because the place was deserted except for a young man and woman waiting at the checkout lanes.

“Hello there.” The woman offered a pleasant smile to an already peaches-and-cream pretty face. “I’m Gerty. Come on over here and let’s get you rung up. Sam, can you bag for her, please?”

“Of course.” The tall, gaunt, young man rounded his lane and opened a paper bag. “Are you new around here?”

“Yes.” Mary forced herself not to count pennies as the total increased. She had cash from her share of the phenomenal berry crop, Thomas had a regular paycheck coming, and Paul would do better soon. She could afford to splurge on a nice meal.

“Is it true you married one of the Paraby twins?” Gerty asked as she rung up sugar.

“It is. Paul and I eloped a few days ago. I’m meeting his mother tonight.”

Gerty’s smile faltered. “Oh dear. Hmm.”

“Oh dear?” Mary asked. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Gerty looked over the food in front of her. “Is this for tonight? What are you making?”

“I’m doing a braised beef roast, potatoes, beans, and stuffing. Oh, and banana pudding,” Mary replied, but the excitement she’d felt about the meal fell away. “Why?”

Gerty shook her head. “You know, if you were having me over, or my mother, that would be fantastic. Helen…”

“She doesn’t like bananas,” Sam said. “Tells us every week we’re wasting shelf space. She doesn’t like beef either, contrary to what her sons think. And she says bread gives her digestion problems.”

Pure panic welled in Mary’s guts. The meal would be a nightmare. She’d make her future mother-in-law sick and they’d never have a chance to make nice.

“I’m going to cancel this order.” Gerty put the items back in the basket. “You and I are going to put our heads together to figure out what to make to start you off on the right foot.”

“Really? I don’t want to be a burden,” Mary said.

Gerty waved her hand. “No burden. This will be fun. I can’t imagine having Helen Paraby as a mother-in-law. She’s…strong willed, that’s for sure. How about a nice roast chicken? Maybe some dumplings? Come along, we’ll get you ready for tonight.”

* * * *

Three bites into the meal, Mary wanted to kiss Gerty. The chicken turned out juicy and succulent. The dumpling recipe Gerty passed along had been as easy as promised and so much tastier than even her mother’s mashed potatoes. The beans were her own recipe, but Gerty helped her find the freshest. So far, Thomas and Paul had barely come up for air, they ate so quickly.

Across the table Helen ate without a word. Not much came from her mother-in-law in way of criticism or welcome. She’d arrived exactly at dinner time and sat at the table. She resembled her sons, tall and blonde with a certain sturdy quality she made look elegant. Her bright blue eyes narrowed on Mary more than once, but she’d said very little.

“When you said you were making a chicken instead of roast I was a little disappointed, but you can make this again anytime,” Paul said, his second helping of chicken already gone.

“It seems a bit frivolous to spend money on chicken when you live on a beef ranch,” Helen said.

The barb hit, but Mary looked at Helen’s plate—completely devoid of chicken and nearly everything else. Her actions spoke louder than words.

“I take it since you two eloped and Paul’s finances are tied up in the ranch you won’t be having a proper wedding,” Helen said.

Mary didn’t wince, but the statement made a direct hit she didn’t anticipate. Finances weren’t discussed at the dinner table.

“Our wedding was fine, Mom.” Paul poured milk into his glass. “Mary, can you pass me more chicken, please? You’re a great cook. I’m a lucky man.”

She smiled at him, more grateful for him than ever. On her other side, Thomas sat, holding his peace while maintaining a friendly distance. She could use a hand squeeze from him, but they had to play the part for now.

“Maybe you two could have a big reception on your one year anniversary. It would be nice to do something, especially after Duane gets home so he can meet you,” Thomas suggested. “Or you could renew your vows somewhere exotic.”

Their mother snorted. “Don’t mention that cur at the table. It is my sincere hope that Duane stays in Vietnam. And Thomas, let’s be serious. They eloped after nearly no courtship and without any familial support. I’ll be shocked if they last past tax season.”

The gloves were off. She’d hoped the twins underestimated Helen, but Mary had to be practical and deal with the cards dealt, not the ones desired.

“Mom, you don’t have to like it,” Paul said, still showing no sign of anger. “But you will respect my wife in my house.”

“Of course,” Helen said. “For however long this poor decision lasts I will be supportive. The day it ends I will help move her things out of here. I take it, Thomas, you’ll be staying with me again?”

When Helen looked to Thomas, Mary did too. Mary could handle hiding her relationship from Helen, could even tolerate the blatant disapproval, but she refused to lose Thomas.

“You know I’m not kicking you out,” Mary said quickly. She grabbed Paul’s hand when she really wanted to take Thomas’s. “Tell him, Paul. We’re happy to have him here.”

“Of course we are,” Paul said. “Mom, it makes more sense for him to be here. We’re half the distance to his new job.”

“And where does he sleep?” Helen asked almost too sharply for Mary’s taste.

The boys said their mother knew nothing of their preference, but in that moment Mary seriously questioned if they were right.

“I’m in the bunkhouse, but I have my meals here,” Thomas said, easily deflecting her question. “Don’t worry about it. How are things at the diner?”

Helen scowled, not at either of the boys, but directly to Mary. She wanted to be tough, wanted to be the woman of her house, but she broke eye contact and took another bite of chicken instead. She couldn’t win Helen over, not today at least.

“The diner is as it always has been,” Helen said. “Thomas, I need you to come to the house later this week. My sink is leaking. While you’re there I’ll introduce you to my new neighbor. She’s lovely, renting the house while working as a secretary. I’ve been showing her the ropes of independent living—making her own wage, supporting herself—instead of living off a man who doesn’t make enough to support himself, let alone a wife.”

The hit didn’t just smack Mary, but all three, whether Helen realized it or not. She set her fork down, truly unable to believe Helen didn’t understand the barb bit all three, Paul the most. From what Mary had gathered, she thought Helen loved her boys very much, that she protected them above all, but maybe things were more complicated than the surface showed.

Paul caught her eye and gave a slight shake of his head, as though asking her not to make the scene her instincts told her to make. They’d promised to set their mother straight if she insulted her, but so far the insults had been mild in her direction. The ones toward Paul stacked up. But if Paul didn’t make the move, she understood it wasn’t her place…yet.

“How about some dessert?” Mary stood, not waiting for a reply.

“I’m afraid dinner isn’t setting well, so I’ll pass,” Helen said. “Thomas, tell me about your new job. It’s so nice to have something to hear about other than cows.”

“Paul, I need your help please,” Mary called, ready to snap in a way she’d never experienced.

“Who needs help with dessert?” Helen muttered, but in the small space, every word carried.

Paul abandoned his plate and joined her, his expression pained and apologetic. “How can I help, honey?”

She grabbed him by his shirt front and pulled him down until her mouth met his ear. “She’s going to break me. I don’t want her to break me on our first meeting.”

“She’s usually not this bad,” he whispered. “It’s surprising me how far she’s going. Thomas will wrap things up and we’ll decide on a plan for the future. I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”

She kissed his cheek and let him loose. Her hands shook with fury, but she channeled that into fixing the pie she’d baked. Apples and cinnamon in a flaky crust should have been the perfect end to the meal, but nothing could save it. Nothing.

“Hey, Paul? I’m going to walk Mom to her car and follow her into town to check the sink,” Thomas said, already helping Helen into her coat.

Mary looked down at the slice of pie she had ready for Thomas and realized what else he would do when he went to town. He’d meet the neighbor woman Helen thought was so wonderful. She clenched her teeth together harder. The night had spiraled out of control.

“Thanks for dinner, Mary.” Thomas didn’t look happy to be going. “I’ll be back before too long.”

“Why not stay the night?” Helen said. “Pack a bag, no need to interrupt the newlyweds.”

“Work, Mom,” Thomas said. “I’ll be back. Thanks again.”

He hustled his mother out the door. Mary didn’t know if the other woman would have said ‘thank you’ or any sort of goodbye, even to Paul, but Thomas closed the door before she could.

Mary dropped the pie on the counter, disgusted with herself, with Helen, and with the situation.

“That went pretty well,” Paul said.

She looked up and he had the good grace to blush.

“Well, it did. She didn’t hit you or scream for you to leave or anything like that.”

There were no words. She pushed away from the counter without reply and began clearing the table. Not much food remained, assuring her at least that had been a success. Paul joined her, but didn’t speak. He had to know—had to—that the night hurt her.

They washed the dishes and cleaned in silence. As the chicken pan soaked, Paul turned on the television and watched the news. Mary sat beside him, but couldn’t enjoy it, couldn’t enjoy him…not when Thomas was away doing only God knew what.

Mary chewed her thumbnail, checking the door every few minutes. She wouldn’t sleep tonight, and though he most likely didn’t deserve it, Thomas was in for one hell of a lecture on worrying her. She’d made a mistake wanting to keep them secret. Now she wanted to brand both of her men. Paul probably had the equipment to do it.

“Come on, sweet stuff.”

She stiffened when he rubbed her arms. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just going to fix a pipe and then he’ll be back.”

“I don’t like that he left,” she muttered. “Do you think I was wrong to not want to tell your mother? Maybe we should have told the truth.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I think the night ended a lot more peaceful this way. This was really a win, all things considered.”

She snorted. “How was that a win? She insulted both of us and took Thomas.”

He kissed her cheek. “She didn’t really mean the insults, so shrug them off like I do. The meal was delicious, the pie—awesome. Now you and me are alone in our home for the first time. How is that not a winning combination?”

Mary didn’t want to worry, and since Paul seemed willing to be her distraction, she followed him to the bed. She pressed her lips to his for a hard, smacking kiss and pulled away. His previously easy smile turned carnal. Yes, this was exactly the kind of distraction she needed.