Page 37 of Silver Lining
"I'm not ma'am, I'm Livvy." Livvy gave the reins an irritable flap. "Since we're going to have three Mrs.
McCords, it'll go easier if we drop the formalities and use our given names. Are you agreeable?"
"I am. Except I don't feel like Louise. That doesn't seem like me." She couldn't remember back far enough to recall a time when anyone had called her Louise. And she didn't care much for the name.
Louise impressed her as too soft and feminine for a rough number like her.
"Well, you can't be called Low Down. Max told me how you got that nickname," Livvy said, pressing her lips into a line. "I'm not going to have a daughter-in-law with a name that makes her sound worthless.
You're a McCord now."
In fact, there was an element of safety and comfort in her old name. No one expected much from a person called Low Down. She didn't expect much of herself. But Louise McCord… that was different.
Louise McCord sounded like a woman of consequence who might be expected to know about things like sewing a dress.
"And you don't strike me as a person without opinions."
"I have opinions. But it ain't—it's not my place to jump into a family matter." Especially as she was acutely aware the trouble had begun with her.
But it was easy to be wise after an event. When this whole thing started, she'd had no inkling how many people would be affected by her longing to have a baby. Grinding her teeth together, she told herself that it was not her fault that Wally was about to marry the woman Max had wanted to spend his life with. She couldn't possibly have guessed that would happen.
"This is your family, too. And that means you have as much right to an opinion as anyone else." Irritation infused Livvy's voice and expression, and she released a long breath. "Nothing is working out the way I thought it would. Suddenly I'm going to have two new daughters-in-law. One's pregnant and wishes she wasn't. The other probably isn't and wishes she was."
"Mama," Gilly said, tapping Livvy on the shoulder. "Little pitchers have big ears."
"Sunshine isn't a fool. She knows things aren't working out the way anyone wanted them to."
The McCords were the only family Louise was likely ever to have. But that didn't mean they accepted her. Accepting the fact of Max's marriage was not the same thing as accepting the woman he'd married.
She'd do well to keep that truth in mind.
Turning to glance at Gilly's softly rounded profile, she cleared her throat and remarked, "How long have you been married?"
"Mr. Weaver and I have been married for six years."
" Gilly , for heaven's sake. I think you can call him Dave in front of your sister-in-law."
"Six years," Louise repeated. But Gilly had only one child. That was discouraging. On the other hand, as nearly as she could piece together, Max had been with Philadelphia once and that had been enough. The whole business of sex and pregnancy was mysterious and frustrating.
"Well, here we are. Your new place."
As recently as this morning she had reread her copy of Max's letter describing the house, so she had some idea of what to expect. Nevertheless, the house surprised her. To her relief, it wasn't as large as she'd imagined or as she would have thought it was if she hadn't seen the main house first.
Max's house sat on a rise, and seemed tall and narrow with no landscaping in place to soften the angles.
What Max had referred to in his letter as simple translated to clean lines and no wasted space.
"It's rather spare," Gilly murmured. "It will help if you plant some lilacs come spring and put in trees to break the wind."
"I like it," Louise said softly. The house didn't pretend to be grand or impressive. But it might become so in the future if wings were added to accommodate a growing family. But the future didn't concern her.
For the moment, she was awed to think that she would be living in this house.
"Since you didn't come with a trousseau, I've brought extra linens and dishes and the clothing I mentioned earlier. Also, more food staples to get you started," Livvy said, walking around to the wagon bed and letting down the gate. She lifted Sunshine to the ground. "Don't anyone go inside empty-handed."
Carrying a box filled with pots and baking utensils, Louise climbed the porch steps of the house where she and Max would live for the duration of their marriage.
The foyer was large enough that she could have pitched her Piney Creek tent on the polished wood floor. A quick peek to the left revealed a parlor with a bay window. To the right was a dining room with a matching window. A staircase led upstairs; a paneled hallway ran back to a kitchen, pantry, and what Livvy called the mudroom.
