Page 54

Chapter Fifty-Four

C lover rolled her eyes at herself. She should have put the tablecloth down before stacking all the dishes on the table. As she began moving the dishes to the sideboard, a knock sounded on the front door. She tilted her head. They weren’t expecting anyone until four o’clock. Surely, it wasn’t that late already.

Making her way to the door, she glanced at her watch. Her visitor was an hour early.

Clover blinked, confused to find Lina on her doorstep.

The older woman’s pale face was drawn and tense. “I’m sorry I’m so early, but…given the circumstances, I thought we might need some time to talk.”

Clover tilted her head, scrunching her brow in thought. Did I invite Lina to Thanksgiving dinner? Given the older woman’s situation, it was certainly something Clover would have done, but she couldn’t remember doing it.

“Sure, come on in,” Clover said, stepping aside. It doesn’t matter. We have more than enough food, and I’m not going to turn her away.

Stepping into the house, Lina’s eyes darted around the room as if expecting a ghost to jump out at her. Though that was a real possibility, she’d never acted so skittish before.

“I was just setting the table,” Clover said, heading back to the dining room.

“Clover, listen.” Lina’s voice was strained but urgent.

The tone from her friend made Clover pause and turn toward her.

“I’ve got something to tell you. Actually?—”

Footsteps from the kitchen announced Whit’s approach before his appearance. “Did I hear someone at the door?” he asked, entering the room.

Upon seeing Lina, Whit smiled warmly. “I see your track record of being early is yet to be broken.” Crossing the room, Whit wrapped his arms around Lina. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mom.”

The breath rushed out of Clover. She felt as if she’d just been punched in the stomach. Her head spun and tried to grasp anything about this interaction that made sense to her.

Releasing Lina, Whit turned to Clover. “I know it’s overdue, but, Clover, this is my mother, Melanie. Mom, this is my wife, Clover.”

Clover could clearly see the apprehension—the guilt—on Lina’s face, but she couldn’t seem to process it.

“Yes,” Lina acknowledged softly. “We’ve, uh, we’ve met.”

“What? When?” Whit’s voice was loud with shock.

Lina cleared her throat. “Before you came to see me at the house. I was out cleaning some of the graves when Clover found her way onto the property.”

Whit screwed up his face in thought.

As the situation finally sunk in, Clover felt sick to her stomach. She’d thought this woman was her friend. She’d talked about Whit with her—talked about their marital problems.

“You said your name was Lina.” Clover’s voice held a sharpness even she didn’t expect.

Whit’s eyes widened with realization. “Mom…you didn’t...”

“Lina is what my husband used to call me,” Melanie revealed.

Clover scowled. “I thought we were friends.”

Melanie frowned, her face crumbling. “I just…I just wanted to get to know you. I wanted us to be friends. I thought you?—”

Clover shook her head. This was all too much. She felt like she would die of embarrassment. How could I talk to my mother-in-law about how her son won’t have sex with me? No wonder she looked so uncomfortable. “I…I need to go get those pictures. I’ll, uh, I’ll be right back.”

Without another word, Clover raced up the stairs and into her room. She was pacing the space when she heard a soft tap at the door.

“It’s me,” Whit said from the other side. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Clover answered softly, stopping in her tracks near the dresser.

Whit approached her and rested his warm hands heavily on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Clover sighed, shaking her head. “I feel so embarrassed. You have no idea the things I divulged to her.”

Whit nodded though he truly had no clue at all. “What she did was wrong. She knows that, too. There’s no excuse for it at all. But we aren’t exactly innocent in this either. We got married without her even meeting you. It’s not a surprise she would want to get to know you.”

“Then she should have told me who she was.”

“You’re right. She should have.”

“I feel…deceived.”

“Understandable. But I can tell you she’s very upset with herself. She clearly didn’t think this through. How was she going to keep that going for any length of time? You would have met her eventually.”

Clover lowered her head.

“What’s that?” Whit asked.

Clover followed his gaze to over her shoulder. He was staring at the silver comb on her dresser.

“Lina—I mean, your mom gave it to me when she came over for tea the first time.”

Whit smiled warmly at the thing before meeting Clover’s eyes again. “Do you know what that is?”

“A comb?”

Whit huffed a laugh. “Yes, but this comb has been in my mother’s family for over a hundred and fifty years. It’s been passed down from daughter to daughter for generations.”

Clover’s throat tightened at the swirl of emotions inside her. She was still upset at Melanie, but clearly her mother-in-law had accepted her from the very beginning—when everyone else was still angry.

Clover sighed. “I guess I can forgive her, but it’s going to take some time for me to adjust.”

Whit nodded. “I’m sure she’ll understand that. Thank you for giving her another chance.”

Clover gave Whit a reassuring smile. “She’s your mom, right? You said it before: Your family is my family.”

Whit’s dark eyes softened as he looked down at Clover. In that moment, she thought he might kiss her. And though she wanted nothing more, she didn’t make a move to close the distance between them. Melanie’s advice may have been given under false pretenses, but she would know her son better than anyone else.

If Whit needed more time to get close to her, that was what Clover would give him. She would wait for him to come to her—no matter how much she wanted to feel him against her.