Mary's Men (24 page)

“Let’s go.” Paul took Mary’s arm.

“What about the groceries?” Mary asked as he all but dragged her from the store.

“Screw them. Sam can put them back or let them rot for all I care.”

Her husband sounded much angrier than she’d anticipated. Power surged through her veins. She’d faced Gerty and done a damn fine job. She’d gotten a smile from a woman who knew the Parabys, and if there wasn’t approval, there didn’t need to be because she’d at least been civil. Thomas took the keys and started the truck while Duane helped her in again, Paul climbing into the back seat.

“Is that the way it’s been?” Paul demanded.

“The way what has been?” She examined her stinging palm, liking it much more than the stinging cheek of the previous encounters.

“The insults. That little bitch,” Paul sneered. “I knew people were saying crap…was that what you were dealing with alone?”

Thomas and Duane looked at her, their eyes cold and hard. She didn’t like the interrogation, didn’t like feeling on the ropes. “Um, well, yes. Ever since Walter started talking about what he saw the reactions have been more Gerty than Ms. Maple. At least no one propositioned me this time.”

“What’s the guy’s name?” Paul’s tone promised retribution.

“I don’t remember.” She sat further back in the truck. “And it only happened once. I’m sure after today it won’t again. None of it will happen again I hope.”

Paul looked to Thomas and Duane. “I had no idea. Did you guys?”

Thomas shook his head. “I didn’t. Mary, I’m sorry we let this go on. I honestly didn’t think people would be so outwardly confrontational. You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

“But I did.” She turned to Duane when the twins remained impassive. “I faced her, Duane. You get that? I felt bad this whole time, thinking I was doing something wrong. Thinking I was giving them a reason to think badly of me. But it’s not me. It’s them. They’re the ones who choose to be mean to me. Ms. Maple didn’t. Gerty did. And I smacked the mean off her when she wouldn’t stop throwing it at me.”

He ran his hand over her hair and tucked a piece behind her ear. “So now what? Do we smack the mean off anyone who gives you flack? I’m fine with that.”

She shook her head. “No. Now… I don’t know. Now I do what I do without regret or apology. I can’t change the way my family feels. I can’t change how Helen acts. But I can adjust how I feel and respond. Yeah, that makes sense.”

She considered the last few months. She’d been building to this moment, but she’d been so worried about other people’s opinions. She’d worried about it before committing and never put it aside even when the relationship proved to be everything she wanted.

Though she wasn’t ready for kids, talking about being pregnant even in passing the day before put an inkling of something in her mind. She had to be stronger if she wanted to bring children into the world she enjoyed so much. She couldn’t turn into a puddle at every ugly stare. If she learned to be strong…she could do the same for her children. Eventually.

“So now what?” Paul asked. “I still feel like an ass. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how bad things were. I’m glad you’re making the decision to not care as much, but I hope you know I’m always here to ride shotgun. If a man ever talks to you like Gerty did, I want to know immediately.”

“Me too,” Thomas said. “Women too, especially if they’re married. I wouldn’t ever hurt a woman, but if a guy’s wife is spouting crap, he’s going to hear about it too.”

A new balance settled over them, familiar but with a new twist. Her parents didn’t have this sort of understanding. Her father led the pack with the wives following his lead. She wouldn’t have that world. She wanted her men and their support, but didn’t necessarily need them to fight her battles. If Gerty kept up her nonsense though, she might need them to hold her purse for a real scuffle. Violence had never seemed like a solid answer in the past, but the Montana mindset called for action beyond words.

Thomas pulled the truck into the town’s only diner. Mary had yet to eat there, but knew the twins’ mother worked the counter. When she looked at him her stomach dropped. Getting in touch with her badass side thrilled her, but she wasn’t suicidal.

“What’s on your mind, Thomas?” she asked.

Paul and Duane shifted in their seats as if Thomas’s move was unexpected to them as well.

“I need you to come in with me.” Thomas lifted her hand to his lips. “Please.”

She’d rather face four Gerties and a rattlesnake than visit face to face with her mother-in-law, but the earnest and slightly scared look on Thomas’s face made her decision.

She glanced over her shoulder at Duane and Paul as she scooted out the driver’s side. Neither man moved from their spot. She hoped they could stop at the liquor store when they were done.

Thomas held her hand as they entered the small diner. Between the breakfast and dinner rush only a few locals sat at the counter, lingering with cups of coffee in front of them. Smoke trickled through the air from the cigarettes in the ashtrays, but bacon and coffee overwhelmed even the smoke. It seemed like a perfectly nice diner. One she would never, ever have a meal at.

“Thomas! Look at you all spiffy for work. I love when you visit me in your nice duds.” Helen froze when she caught sight of Mary. “Thomas, come back here to the kitchen, please.”

Thomas held tight and led Mary through the café. The men at the stainless steel counter cast a glance their way. Gossip mongers had fresh feed. Mary bolstered herself and gave the men a friendly smile. They wouldn’t see her sweat. The townsfolk had seen enough of fodder from her. If she wanted them to treat her like the happy wife of Thomas, Duane, and Paul, by golly, she’d have to start acting like it.

He led her through a swinging door, the humidity of the kitchen immediately making her hair frizz and sweat trickle at the back of her neck.

“What in the world are you thinking bringing that…that, I don’t even know what to call her, into this town?” Helen demanded. “And not just to town, but to the place I work. Do you want me to get fired?”

Mary bit back the reply that jumped to her tongue. Helen had gotten Thomas fired and now she was worried? The irony sucked.

“No one is going to fire you because of us,” Thomas said. “Actually, Mr. Watson stopped me the other day and told me to mind my tax returns with our arrangements.”

Mary didn’t know who Mr. Watson was or why he cared about their taxes.

“The owner of this place is an old fool and his opinion doesn’t matter. This woman is trouble. Get rid of her, Thomas. If your fool brother and cousin won’t, then you move in with me, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

Mary swallowed her protest. Thomas needed to be the one to set the course with his mother. It hurt her to see him struggle, but he stood straighter, facing his mother. “This is Mary. She is my wife. I love her. God willing she’ll be the mother of my children. Now you know the score and how I’m invested. It’s up to you how the rest of this plays out, Mom.”

“Up to me?” she sneered. “If it were up to me she’d be buried under a pile of rocks.”

Thomas squeezed Mary’s fingers and without a word turned from his mother and started for the door.

“Where are you going? We’re not done here,” Helen said.

Thomas looked over his shoulder with a sad smile. “Yeah, Mom, I think we are.”

Mary bit her lip to keep the tears back. She found no joy in separating mother and son, but she respected Thomas too much to undermine his decision.

“No, we’re not.” His mother grabbed Mary’s arm.

Mary spun around, adrenaline still high from when Gerty attempted to harm her. She’d already taken abuse from Helen, and she refused to do it again. When their eyes met Mary recognized the anger in Helen’s eyes, but also the pain and fear. The other woman had been hit with a brick. Though Mary had been sideswiped by the same, Helen…was different.

“We’ll be fine if you let us,” Mary said as Thomas stood tense beside them both. “We can make it through holidays and birthday parties and planning little things as they come up. I don’t want to take your boys away. I’m willing to try.”

Helen’s eyes narrowed. “I’m never going to like this.”

“I’m never going to call you ‘mom’.” Mary stood straighter. “But we’re family. We can’t choose who becomes family, but we can choose how to treat them.”

Helen dropped her arm and looked squarely at her son. “I’m not giving my blessing. I never will. I think this is a big mistake you’ll regret. We’ll have Thanksgiving at my house. The cabin is too small.”

Mary’s heart sped. She truly hoped Helen was ready to try, to ignore if she had to, but to live and let live.

“Mary and Duane are invited?” Thomas asked.

Helen scowled at Mary again, irritation but grudging acceptance in her expression. “Of course. My daughter-in-law and nephew are always welcome in my home. If they have to be.”

The words were right and that’s what mattered. Thomas nodded and led Mary out of the kitchen. The men at the lunch counter started their conversations again. Mary hoped they’d heard enough to let the rumors of her being a homewrecker die.

Thomas pushed through to the sidewalk, leaving the cigarettes and grease behind them. The brisk fall breeze nipped at her cheeks and by their next trip, she’d need to find her jacket. She’d have to have Aunt Marcy send her old one up, or maybe have Marcy visit. Her aunt loved the fall as well and she couldn’t wait to show her Paraby Mountain.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas said. “I really am. I didn’t plan—well, I did. I planned on making the statements to my mother, but in my head I saw me doing it alone or maybe with Paul and Duane.”

Mary snaked her arm around his waist as they walked down the empty sidewalk toward the truck. “What’s there to be sorry for? We have Thanksgiving already planned. You’ll have to ask her what we can bring. I make a mean green bean casserole.”

Thomas stopped at the truck door and frowned. “But the things she said about never—”

Mary pressed her finger to his lips. “She invited us for Thanksgiving. Let’s allow the rest to go off into the past where it belongs.”

Thomas kissed her palm. “You’re an amazing woman.”

“Of course I am,” she said with a bright smile. “You’re damn lucky to have me. Now, I really do need to get groceries today if you boys want to eat this week. Think we can make it through the creamery without any more fist fights or confrontations?”

Thomas held the door for her. “I sure hope so.”

Chapter 24

Easter

Helen checked the clock for the fifth time. If that woman didn’t flip the pancakes, they were going to burn. Pancakes, for Easter dinner. She didn’t like it and would make certain she hosted Easter next year.

Her table mate sat down her wine glass. “Hey, Mar? Remember when I went to Michigan last summer? Well, turns out we aren’t that unique for having pancakes and turkey at holidays. I guess they do something with fried chicken and waffles. I prefer ours, but poultry and pancakes seem to belong together.”

Mary’s aunt was visiting and Helen couldn’t imagine where she slept. The house Paul was having built only had two rooms, the kitchen and bathroom, finished. They still lived in the cabin for the most part. Helen offered to house the relative as any good in-law would do, but she’d declined.

Mary turned from the stove. “You’re kidding. Here I thought we were so unique. Oh well. Duane thinks we’re as crazy as bedbugs and refuses to try out the concoction, but I say it’s his loss.”

If Duane wouldn’t try it, she certainly would. Her damn nephew…always a pain in her side. The door to the unfinished side room opened and the irritating scoundrel and her firstborn stood with big smiles on their faces.

“Mary, it’s ready for you,” Thomas said.

Mary flipped off the gas stove, ruining the pancake, and tossed her apron aside. Helen shook her head but held her piece. They should have eaten at her house.

“What’s going on?” Helen asked Marcy as her daughter-in-law ran to the open door.

“The boys are giving Mary her present,” Marcy said. “If you’re not wanting to witness an excessive amount of kissing and hugging, you should stay here with me.”

Helen maintained her place and when the kitchen cleared, she turned to Marcy. “How do you deal so calmly with this all?”

She laughed. She wasn’t quite Helen’s age, but wrinkles and lines from working in the sun showed on her face along with a smattering of gray in her dark brown hair. She looked a bit like Mary, but more refined and delicate.

“It’s not my place to judge, just to love. Mary has always had a heart too big to contain. I see no reason to try to tie her in now, especially considering how well all of them work together. I’ll admit to being skeptical, which is why I wanted to stay with them, to see what their relationship was like. I’m impressed.”

Helen snorted. Even though what Marcy said about the four of them working well together was true, it was still too bizarre, too impractical to last.

“Of course,” she continued, “I know firsthand what it’s like to be rejected over a relationship. My father and mother did it. I can’t do that to Mary.”

“Did you run off with a bunch of brothers?” Helen asked.

The other woman smirked. “Nope. With the neighbor lady.”

Helen let that soak in for a moment and genuinely wished she hadn’t asked. The seventies couldn’t come soon enough. Hopefully by then the craziness stopped and people could go back to normal relationships.

“Don’t worry, Helen, you’ll get used to it.” Marcy stood and cocked her head to the side for Helen to follow. “I’m sure they’re about done being mushy. Let’s go have a peek.”

* * * *

They’d finished it. Mary gazed around the living room. She’d asked for a giant space, large enough to keep them all comfortable, along with kids and grandkids. When she saw her men she saw her future. When she looked at the house…she wanted the walls to see the rest with her as well.

“Well?” Paul ran his palm over his head. “Next year we can decorate more—by Christmas for sure we’ll be able to have a tree and all the lights you want. I brought your egg stuff over though.”