Pretend Mom Page 4

  "Of course I haven't forgotten. But for your information, my mother put everything in Dad's name a few years after they were married. It was her decision. So it was his then. Now it's Emily's—Mom's."

  "You dare to call her your mother?"

  "Why not? She's practically raised me, Uncle Paul. Emily's like flesh and blood to me."

  "I want you to know that I'll do everything in my power to see that she doesn't keep the house."

  "But why?" Dixie countered. "You have a big beautiful home up on Beacon Hill. It's all you could ever want. And your children want for nothing. Why this house?"

  "Because, girl, I was born in this house, raised in this house. I'm entitled! It means something to me that your mother lived here, too. I would think it would have meant the same to you."

  Dixie studied the big burly man in front of her with new understanding. Compassion for the situation swamped her. Was the same Uncle that used to carry her piggyback to the store when she was a little girl? How could it be? That man had been so kind, so gentle, so understanding.

  He'd changed, drastically. Even his taste in clothes and refinements were different. Now, he wore business suits and crisp white shirts. No dirty overalls for him any longer. He was a big-shot landlord in town, a very hard to deal with landlord, according to Emily. It was hard to believe this was the same man who took the time to read children's stories to her on Saturday afternoons.

  Dixie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to comprehend the situation and handle it rationally. Her good business sense taught her to control her temper, to weigh the facts.

  "I was born here too, Uncle Paul. But that was a long time ago. There is nothing to settle, and I have nothing left to say to you, until you're ready to apologize to Mom and me."

  Something jolted momentarily in her Uncle's face. "I owe no apologies. Just don't get in my way, girl. I aim to fight for what's mine."

  "Give it up, it's not worth it," she murmured dully.

  For a moment he was quiet, and then he looked her up and down. "You—you have no right talking to me like this. You come home after all this time. You just pull up stakes and leave when your family needed you most. When your sister dies. When your father was getting sicker. Well, let me tell you something, kid, you are no Kincaid or Johnson in my book! You deserted your folks in their time of need, and folks here won't be forgetting that so soon."

  Part of what he said was the truth and it hit home with a sting. Dixie's eyes rolled to the ceiling, preventing her tears from flowing and giving her a chance to control her rioting emotions. How could mere words cut so deep, and leave such a sharp wound? She knew it was coming; only she didn't think it would come from family.

  Emily rushed to her side. "Don't let him upset you, dear."

  Dixie gathered her strength. "Don't worry, Mom, it's just his way of saying, welcome home."

  "But I do worry," Emily huffed, pulling Dixie to her. "I've always worried about you, dear. The sweet, little girl who wouldn't let anyone help her get over her mother's death. I remember how you'd sneak away to cry so no one would hear you. The only reason you couldn't stay was because it hurt you too much to see them dying. I knew that. I thought everyone did. You've always kept things so bottled inside you. You were so unlike Audrey. As if you were afraid to burden anyone with your problems. You're so thin, and you look so tired. And … your voice ..."

  Dixie started to say something, but her uncle brushed past her in a flame of fury. "She doesn't deserve even your pity, Emily. Now, mark my words on the matter, you haven't heard the last of this. I'm sorry for you, Emily—you and the boys, but I can't just let this thing go on. You're a woman, apt to do foolish things. I can't let this house go."

  Did everyone think women incapable of thinking for themselves?

  He stalked out the door, slamming it so hard the walls vibrated throughout the house.

  Dixie stared after him, and suddenly the whole incident seemed ridiculously funny, and she and Emily burst out laughing as they looked at each other.

  ***

  That same afternoon Dixie went outside to the small garden. Bored, she wanted to get out and see the countryside, feel the sunshine, smell the good clean earth again. She loved the fresh scent of her mom's small rose garden.

  Deciding what she wanted to work on, she went into the kitchen for her gardening supplies, surprised and delighted that everything was still in its place. Nothing had changed; a comforting thought. She sighed. She found the garden gloves in the same old drawer along with a string to tie her hair back from her face.

  The twins had just bought Emily a new rose bush, and it needed to be planted, so she merrily continued with the task. Engrossed in her work, she was unaware of anyone joining her until a shadow loomed. Placing a hand over her eyes, she squinted.

  "Dixie," came the deep voice that haunted her days and nights lately. "Is everything all right over here?"

  "Yes … of course it is, why?"

  "From the phone conversation I had with Emily earlier, I wasn't sure. I got tied up with Ed Newton, but I came as soon as I could."

  So Emily called Mike when Uncle Paul was over, Dixie surmised.

  "Ed Newton?"

  "Yeah, I bought some cows from him."

  "I never asked, but you're still working your dad's spread, I guess."

  "It's mine now. Kevin wanted no part of it. And yes, I'm still working it. It's Amanda's and my home."

  "Well, there really was no need to disturb you, Mike. Everything is fine." When he said nothing, she went on. "Do you always come flying over here when there's trouble?"

  "So there was trouble?"

  "Not really, we took care of it ourselves. I suppose Mom is a little intimidated by Uncle Paul. Most people would be. He is overbearing," she said, not bothering to put aside her work for his company, and hoping her voice would hold out. She didn't want to blow things out of proportion.

  "I see, so you're finally calling Emily, Mom?"

  "I'd say it's about time, wouldn't you?"

  "Absolutely." He smiled, making her ultra-aware of her senses again. But he was silent a long time and he hadn't moved a muscle to leave, so she looked up at him again.

  Unprepared for the increase in her pulse rate at the sight of him, she glanced away. Dear God, was he always this attractive, or was she just now noticing?

  "Since I'm here, can I help?" He bent down beside her, his masculine scent flaring her nostrils, and she shot him a disproving glance.

  Go away, her mind screamed. "I think I can manage."

  His hand touched hers as he reached for some dirt, and she jolted as though he'd shot her. Their eyes met, and she got to her feet. Usually in control of her emotions, she didn't understand this electricity between her and Mike, and the way it disconcerted her. Every time he touched her it caused sparks. Had it been there before? Had she ever reacted to him this way? Who was she fooling? She realized it had always been there, deep down, some primitive emotion she couldn't define.

  "I saw Kevin today," he said quietly as he rose.

  "Did you? How nice." Why couldn't he let it alone just for one afternoon? Every time she'd seen him lately she'd reacted, but his constant reminders of Kevin always seemed to ruin the moment.

  "Reverend Lewis wanted me to ask you if you'd sing a solo in church, next Sunday."

  "Are you trying to be cute?"

  "Hardly." His eyes penetrated hers. "Just because you sing rock doesn't mean you can't sing spiritual, does it?"

  "Why didn't he just come over and ask me himself?"

  "He probably would, but he's got a funeral this afternoon and is pretty tied up."

  "Is he sure the congregation would appreciate my singing in church?"

  "You've run into Mrs. Butie, haven't you?"

  "How'd you know?"

  "Town gossip."

  "It doesn't matter. I guess I'm out of the habit of paying attention to gossips. But I didn't come here to wreak havoc on anyone."

  "Dixie, he aske
d because you used to sing solos in church a lot. You're still a member there. Everyone pretty much expects you to. You're a singing sensation. Unless you're afraid to for some reason."

  "Of course I'm not afraid. I just don't see the point. But just to prove to you that I'm not afraid, I'll do it. I'll be there, next Sunday."

  "I'll tell him." He sighed heavily, as though he'd lost some battle. "Dixie—I'm as sorry about that night as you are."

  She moved away, pretending an indifference to the subject. "What does that night have to do with my singing in church? Does the whole town know about it?"

  "Of course not. I just thought we should talk about it."

  "I really see no point in discussing it. It was a long time ago. I was young, and foolish, it's over. No real harm done. Surely even the great Mike Dalton has done something he wasn't too proud of?"

  "I think there was harm done. And yes, I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. Look, I shouldn't have interfered. I know that now. I should have walked away. Stayed out of it. I knew how you felt about Kevin—Audrey told me. But dammit, you were just a kid, still wet behind the ears. And Kevin—"

  "Was mortified."

  "I didn't say that. He was still a little green back then himself."

  "When I saw his face, I wasn't sure what to do. Like he was afraid I was going to jump his bones or something. What a scandal that would have been, huh?"

  "The town would have hung him if he'd have touched you. I would have hung him."

  "You? You hated me!"

  "You're wrong, I never hated you Dixie. I knew why you were there. You wanted to talk or be with Kevin. I should have stayed the hell out of it. Let you two hash it out, then."

  "It doesn't matter, that was a long time ago." Not wanting to rehash that whole business about her and Kevin, Dixie changed the subject. "So, where's Amanda?"

  Mike's look of surprise delighted her. "I have a housekeeper who looks after her in the day time. I'm sure you remember her, Ms. Ferris. I hired her to take care of Amanda and the house for me. Besides, when Emily said there was trouble, I thought it best not to bring Amanda with me."

  "Oh, I wish you had. She's lovely, and could easily help Mom forget about Uncle Paul. Must take after her mother." Dixie smiled.

  "A little."

  Dixie's raised her head and their eyes met on the same level for the first time. Her mouth flew open and his eyes glided to it like a bird looking for a perch.

  She sucked in a breath as though it were her last. Mike was going to kiss her again and in her heart she wanted him to, just to compare it to the first kiss—the one at the airport. It had jolted her mindless, and she wanted to know why. His head bent, and she thought she tiptoed just a bit—until she heard a voice. Mike pulled away slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

  Garbled emotions ran rampant, making Dixie feel remarkably clumsy. What was wrong with her? This was Mike, Kevin's brother. A man she'd vowed never to tangle with. Yet, she wanted him to kiss her, wanted it as much as he did.

  "Out here, Mom," she called her face flushing as she turned her attention back to the chore of gardening. Ignore it. Things get blown out of proportion by not ignoring them. The kiss was probably just a fleeting thought, brought on by his apology, she told herself.

  "There you are. I hope you aren't overdoing it, Dixie. Oh, hello, Mike, I'm so glad you stopped by. Paul was over earlier and upsetting Dixie, I'm afraid. I just didn't know what to do about him. I never dreamed he would come here and disturb her with his problems. I admit, I can't handle him, never could. He just barged right in and somehow managed to take over. I suppose Dixie has already told you all the insulting things he accused her of?" Emily prattled.

  Dixie turned about long enough to cast Emily a questioning look.

  Mike caught the interplay and a slow, burning smile spread across his handsome face. "No, actually, I'm afraid we didn't get to the heart of the matter."

  Cute, really cute, Dixie thought, shooting him a disapproving look.

  At least Emily had no idea about what had almost taken place a moment before she arrived in the garden. Dixie still couldn't believe she was about to kiss Mike. He was definitely off limits. She knew that deep down Mike hadn't approved of her love for Kevin, only she didn't know why. What had she ever done to earn his disapproval?

  "He had his nerve, I'll tell you. Why, do you know he came over here to accuse Dixie of being here for the sole purpose of reading the Will? She's never even mentioned such a thing since her father died. In fact, I'm a little embarrassed that I haven't mentioned it to her. When she explained to Paul that there was only a handwritten Will, Paul didn't believe it. Poor Paul, he's always wanted this house. But he's never had the nerve to come out and ask me about it, and I never had the nerve to mention it either. He as much as said he plans to do everything he can to rectify the situation in his favor."

  Mike listened closely, occasionally glancing down at Dixie's bowed head. She deliberately ignored him. Dixie simply reasoned this wasn't Mike's problem, even if Emily had come to rely on him.

  "Now don't worry, Emily." Mike directed her toward the house. "I'll do some checking with Amos Fletcher. He should know if there are any legal actions Paul can bring. I honestly don't think there's anything to worry about."

  "It's just that the Will wasn't drawn up by a lawyer or anything. That has me a little worried. At the time it seemed the thing to do, but now, I don't know. And if I lose the house, I'll need to start thinking about another place, somewhere. Although I'm not sure I could handle another mortgage payment."

  "Don't fret. A handwritten Will is actually the best kind, I'm told." Mike smiled at her. "Paul's bluffing."

  They seemed to have forgotten Dixie for the moment and she was silently glad. She needed time to assimilate what had just transpired between her and Mike. Perhaps she was being swayed by his kindness to her and her family, which could account for it. She was a soft touch. Truth is, she wanted that kiss if only to satisfy her own curiosity.

  Nevertheless, she was home to help her mom and the boys, not get involved with another man. She'd made a fool of herself over his brother. She wasn't foolish enough to try it with him.

  Mike was probably right about her uncle though. However, Dixie knew her uncle was full of duplicity, capable of upsetting Emily's utopia with mere words. She needed reinforcements.

  So, this was why her mom had called her to come home. She couldn't blame her, this was important. If Uncle Paul succeeded, Emily and the boys would be homeless. No, she'd never let that happen, even if it meant supporting them by herself. She needed to reassure Emily that she could take care of them, no matter what the outcome.

  At least Mike had managed to expunge Emily's fears before he left. And at the back door he paused and smiled recklessly at Dixie. "Take care of yourself, sweetheart. I'll see you later."

  He winked and was gone before she had a chance to tell him not to call her sweetheart. Not that it meant anything.

  After toiling about the new rose bush for a while, pulling weeds from the area, Dixie went inside, washed her hands and went upstairs to take a shower. Gardening was a dirty sport, she decided with a laugh.

  She was taking herself much too seriously. From now on she wanted to have a little fun while she was home. The house looked deserted by the time she came downstairs again. She found a note from Emily on the refrigerator when she went to get a Coke. Dressed in her thick cotton robe and rabbit slippers, she plopped in her father's favorite chair to read the newspaper, propping her feet on the end table. God, how long had it been since she'd read a paper?

  Before long she was pushing aside the paper and closing her eyes. She hadn't been this relaxed in years. She wouldn't go to sleep—she'd just rest a while.

  Sometime later, something shook her arm and she shot up with a grunt.

  "He, sis, don't you think it's about time we had a little fun, don't you think? You are on vacation so you should enjoy it. Don't you think? Have you called any of your old
friends yet?"

  Dixie relaxed and smiled contentedly at Tom who stood by the arm of the chair, staring down at her with concern. "Now that sounds like a marvelous idea. I'll try to get hold of Carol. I haven't seen her since I've been back, and we used to have a ball. We've got a lot of catching up to do, I suppose."

  "Carol Ramsey?" Will strolled into the room with his hands in his jeans pockets, and his face screwed up.

  "Yes, Carol."

  "She doesn't live here anymore. She married John Tucker Jr. a while back, and they moved to Dallas last month. Didn't she write you?"

  Dixie slumped back into the chair. Had she written? There had to be a ton of mail at the apartment, but Dixie seldom had the time to relax and read mail.

  "She probably did. I'm afraid by the time I get around to reading my mail, it's six months old or more. I'll bet most of my old friends are married and gone by now. Did Carol have a big wedding?"

  Tom scratched his head, a red strand falling forward as he did so. "Yeah, I think so. I don't pay attention to those things, much. Mom went. She can tell you all about it. And you know Mom—she never misses a wedding. Cries at every one of them. I don't know what she sees in weddings, they're all the same."

  Dixie smiled lazily up at her brother. "Maybe you will some day when you have one of your own. And she married old man Tucker's boy, huh? He used to be such a snob. Carol couldn't' stand him in high school. I guess that just goes to show you. You never know. Well … there's always Ann …"

  Will glanced up again, shook his head. "Nope … Ann Williams ran off with the sheriff's son two years ago and no one has heard from either one of them."

  Dixie giggled and swatted him in the face with the paper. "Go on, get out of here. I can't imagine Ann running off with anyone. But then, on second thought, why not? Everyone used to say she'd never find a man. Good for Ann."

  "Don't nobody do nothing in this town without the rest of us knowin' it."

  "I suppose not," Dixie murmured softly. No one but her. Maybe she owed Mike something after all. He managed to keep a secret for seven years.