Page 11 of Jensen

Red brick walls surround the yard. The house is modern, built about ten years ago. It sprawls out bigger than any house has the right to be. Big, white columns hold up the multiple porches. A silvery driveway winds over the hill, right to the front door. Everything is decorated in white roses wilting in the heat.

The driver pulls up and helps me out. Before I can get my bearings, a dozen women spill out the front door and pull me away to the back room behind the kitchen. There’s a vanity set up. My dress hangs on the back of the door. A little plate of frosted strawberries and a bottle of sparkling water sit by the mirror. Hands push me to the bathroom and help me into the tub, not caring if I might want privacy.

Then, it’s back to the vanity. I sit still while they do my makeup. These aren’t my friends. They’re all women hired by Leland.

I have no one coming today. My people aren’t refined like his family and friends. Today, it’s just me and Mama from my side.

And my baby. He’s half Cooley.

Fists clenched, I sit perfectly still while they put me together. My dress is zipped up my back, and they rearrange the overlapping silk to cover my stomach like it’s shameful. He doesn’t want anyone to know he jumped the gun. Running drugs is fine in the Caudill family, but God forbid somebody gets pregnant out of wedlock.

The women dissipate when I’m done. I stand, my hips cracking. I’ve noticed they do that more now I’m pregnant. Things ache where they didn’t before.

My lungs constrict. I need air.

Pushing open the door to the back porch, I step out and take a deep breath. The air is different here. Everything smells like the Magnolia grove to the left of the house. Carefully so I don’t stain my dress, I sink down to sit on the concrete stoop. I’m not a smoker, butI’ve stolen a few from the corner gas station before. And my daddy was a smoker, big time. I think it would get my head on straight if I could just hold a Camel and feel it burn between my fingers.

Deep inside, there’s another flutter. A kick. I just started feeling those, almost like a hiccup suspended in the nothingness between my hips.

I lift my head and touch my stomach with my fingertips. A faint warmth stirs higher, in my heart area. I might not love Leland, but I think I could love his baby. Maybe he’ll look like me, or my daddy—just so long as he doesn’t look like a Caudill.

The door behind me swings open. I know without turning that it’s my mother.

“Come on. We need to go,” she begs.

I stare at my heels, pearl white. My perfect face is sealed under a mask of setting spray, my body carefully concealed in a tiered silk wedding gown to keep the little bump in my lower belly a secret.

Why it has to be a secret, I don’t know. Everybody is going to know when I give birth months early.

I stand, brushing off the back of my gown. My mother is in blue silk, looking stunning. Ever since Leland put a ring on my finger, my mother has blossomed. Maybe that makes it all worth it. I don’t know. I know for certain she’s so much happier than she was trying to raise me alone.

I give her a weak smile. “Sorry, it’s just hot in the back room.”

“You need your makeup fixed?” Her brows crease.

I shake my head, moving past her into the house. It’s so opulent, it makes my head spin. It towers over the river like Mount Olympus on a hill. When I stepped through the doors for the first time, it felt like somebody was squeezing my lungs. This will be my home. A hundred rooms. A hundred windows to look out and wonder if I’m a prisoner or a wife.

“My makeup is fine, Mama,” I whisper. “Can you get my flowers from the cooler?”

“Sure. Why don’t you meet me in the hall?” she says, gathering her skirt’s train. “Don’t go any further than the door, or Leland will see you.”

I nod. She disappears through the side door. I know I have at least fifteen minutes because the cooler is in the basement. Carefully, I touch my hair to make sure it’s perfect. Then, I step into the huge hallway to the living room.

They said Leland was doing right by me, marrying me after he knocked me up. I wish he’d be satisfied with being a deadbeat.

I never wanted to marry him, baby or not.

Sunlight falls through the paneled windows. Through them is the magnolia grove. They’re young but already blooming. The wind picks up, blowing a few white petals into the sky, taking them away.

I could be like that. I could pick up my heavy skirts and run through the grove, over the hill, just keep going until I’m in a new place where nobody knows me. I close my eyes, leaning on the windowsill.

That sounds like heaven.

“Darling.”

I turn to find my almost-husband standing just inside the door. He shuts it, coming close. I swallow the lump in my throat. Leland is handsome, like a movie star—big, broad, with a nice jawline, wavy dark hair, and blue eyes. He’s got a white smile, a deep, rich voice, and everybody wants to be him or be with him.

Except me, the one person he’s hellbent on getting.