Page 32 of Henhouse
“I’m not sure that he will.” Hope sighed. “He deserved better from me and now it feels like it’s too late.”
Tibby halted her braiding, and Hope could feel her mother’s disbelief tangled in her hair. “I thought you told him.”
“I was going to, but something happened.”
“I thought Effie cleared all that up,” Grams insisted.
“She told you?” Hope prickled with anger. Suddenly she wanted to be anywhere but here. Preferably between the pages of a novel that looked nothing like her life.
“Of course not. You two were not being quietat allthe other night. He made a mistake, but it doesn’t mean you should continue making your own.”
“You don’t understand—”
“No. You’re right. I don’t. I only ever modeled a loving, respectful, joyful relationship, and yet somehow you are all so convinced that it is beneath you to need someone. Beneath you to be vulnerable even if you’ve been wronged. I don’t know where I made the mistake, but I can assure you, your grandfather is rolling in his grave at the lot of you tarnishing his memory by refusing to let love win.”
Dorothea bristled and rose from her seat. She shuffled across the room like a teakettle ready to explode. All eyes were on her. Even Ellen had the good sense to look like she’d taken the scolding to heart.
“Mom,” Tibby started, but Dorothea threw her hands in the air at the mercy of her rising emotions. She nearly ran into Effie who swept into the room in a tea-length cotton dress with a corseted bodice and pearls at her ears. Dorothea’s boiling grief evaporated into thin air as she grabbed Effie by the shoulders.
“And where are you off to looking so lovely?” Grams asked, but Hope was just as curious.
Effie bit her lip, a telltale sign she was nervous before she said, “On a date . . . with Theo.” Effie’s gaze locked on Hope, and the fear there roiled Hope’s insides. Effie was clearly desperate for Hope not to be mad that she was seeing him, involving herself with Brayden’s inner circle. Hope instantly regretted ever making such a demand, because Effie looked full of wonder, like she might fall into a romance novel of her own. Hope wished for nothing less for her dear cousin. Even if bitterness and envy clouded her vision, she could still see Effie for the effervescent ingenue she was.
Grams’s face lit up. She grabbed Effie’s with both her hands and pulled her forehead down for a proud, wet kiss. “Good for you! We want to hear all about it. No negativity, no bitterness, no doubt. Right, ladies?”
Nods from all around, though Hope wasn’t sure it was a promise they all could honestly keep. Not when she noticed hers wasn’t the only heart filled with envy in the room.
“Thanks,” Effie whispered. “Hope, can I borrow your denim jacket?”
“Of course!” Hope replied. Tibby tied off the second of her braids and Hope clambered to her feet, her belly forcing her to adjust her center of gravity more frequently. “I think I left it in the entry closet.”
Hope followed Effie into the foyer, admiring the cream, satin pumps that matched the little flowers patterning her otherwise pale pink dress. Hope rifled through the closet looking for her light-wash jacket that would dress down Effie’s outfit and give her just enough warmth for the evening. She found it and extended it to Effie. Hope held tight to the garment, demanding Effie’s attention for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Hope whispered. “I was cruel and had no right to tell you who to hang out with. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t listen.”
“I almost called and canceled four times,” Effie confessed. “No one is worth you hating me.”
Hope’s heart clenched. She was truly the worst. She could make excuses for herself all day long, but the fact was she let her own needs and her own fears get in the way of things. “I could never. Have so much fun.” Hope kissed Effie on the cheek and squeezed her hands before turning down the hall. Her curiosity baited her to hesitate. “Where is he taking you?”
Effie’s smile was a sunrise on mist-shrouded shores. “It’s a surprise. Do you think I’m overdressed?” Effie pinched a pearl between her thumb and forefinger, spinning it anxiously. Hope remembered that Effie had never been on a date like this. Had never gotten to know someone outside of coffee chats and neighborhood walks or phone calls after dark.
“No. You’re magnificent. So authentically Effie that you’ll have him stumbling over himself all night. I’m sure of it.”
Effie breezed out the door and Hope followed the urge to climb the stairs to her room. She pulled out her laptop and read through one of Brayden’s emails for the umpteenth time. She clickedreplybefore she could talk herself out of it. Fingers flying over the keys she let herself reveal as much as she dared behind the safety of the email.
Dear Brayden,
I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your attempts to contact me. My heart collapsed when Chloe told me she was your wife. I couldn’t bear to confront you about it, because I was afraid that I would blindly forgive you and wind up shattered all over again. I needed to separate myself from you because I didn’t trust myself to be discerning, not with how much you mean to me.
Effie did tell me that you are ensnared in a divorce battle that’s been wearing on you for years. While it lets me breathe again, it still stings to know that you didn’t tell me about her. All of this could have been avoided if you had, and I’m still angry with you for that betrayal.
But you haven’t deserved the silent treatment I’ve been giving you since. My own stuff has been clouding my judgment and making me retreat from you further, but I want to tell you all about it . . . in person. Meet me at our spot next Sunday at three? I know I’ve dragged you through hell withmy behavior, so I understand if you need some time.
I still love you.
Hope
