WILD OATS (29 page)

Chapter Twenty-three

Cora still lay quietly in Jedwin's arms in the parlor rocker when they heard the tapping on the door. Curiously, Cora hurried to the window. Her eyes widened and she turned back to Jedwin.

"It's your mother," she whispered.

Jedwin was as surprised as Cora and started to the door. She stopped him. "This is my house, Jedwin," she told him as she tried to repair the damage her hair had suffered with the repositioning of a few hairpins. "I will greet any guests we have."

Her chin raised defiantly, Cora opened the door.

"Good afternoon," she said, greeting Amelia with exaggerated politeness.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Briggs." Glancing past the young woman, she added, "Jedwin."

The two women stood facing each other at the threshold of the cottage.

"May I come in?" Amelia asked.

"Please," Cora answered, holding out her hand in welcome.

Stepping inside the Briggs cottage was something that Amelia Sparrow had never done. But she didn't waste time
looking around. She kept her eyes only on the young couple before her. She watched her son protectively slip his arm around the young woman's waist. Biting her lip, she swallowed the wave of loneliness that suddenly seized her.

"May I sit?" Amelia asked.

"Please do," Cora answered stiffly, offering her the divan. "Do you want tea?"

"Tea? No," she answered, then changing her mind, "Yes, Mrs. Briggs, I would love to take tea with you."

Amelia sat straight-backed and perfectly poised as she twisted nervously at her gloves. She couldn't even raise her eyes to look at her son, who was sitting across the room from her, almost as uncomfortable as she was.

"The tea will only take a moment," Cora said, returning to the room. She seated herself near Jedwin and glanced at him, silently begging for his strength.

Amelia cleared her throat nervously as she searched for a neutral topic of conversation. “I drove myself from the Bruders' parsonage," she began finally. "It has been such a long while since I've handled a team." She rubbed her elbows meaningfully. "I'd forgotten what a strain it can be."

"Someone surely could have driven you," Jedwin said.

“I wanted to drive myself,'' Amelia assured him quickly. “I think that perhaps I don't spend enough time in my own company, depending upon myself, thinking my troubles through."

Cora observed Mrs. Sparrow closely, before giving a hasty glance toward Jedwin. "I know just what you mean," she said. "My bicycle gives me the same sense of independence. Mrs. Millenbutter believes that physical exertion can help clear the mind."

Amelia nodded. "Mrs. Millenbutter? Oh yes, the reverend seems very high on her theories."

"There are ways to build up the strength in your arms," Cora told her. "So that you will have no problem controlling your own team."

Nodding, Amelia managed a deliberate interest in the subject. She posed enough viable questions to keep the conversation pleasant and continuous until Cora returned to the kitchen to make the tea.

Without Cora in the room, Amelia's bright blue eyes drifted to brown ones belonging to her son.

"What are you doing here, Mama?" he asked with quiet curiosity.

"I've just come from Miss Maimie's," she began finally.

"Oh?" Cora said quietly as she carried the tea tray into the room.

"How did she take the news?" Jedwin asked.

Amelia raised eyes to her son and then let them drift over to the woman that he loved. "She took it in a way that no one but Miss Maimie would."

Jedwin and Cora exchanged glances, but Amelia did not comment on that further.

Gracefully, displaying the etiquette she had learned at the Methodist Home, Cora poured tea for Jedwin's mother from the teapot Amelia had given her as a wedding gift.

Accepting the cup and saucer offered, Amelia nodded with both recognition and approval.

Cora's almost imperceptible sigh was one of relief and she looked at Amelia Sparrow with a new sense of hopefulness.

"Where are Luther's boys?" Jedwin asked.

"At Reverend Bruder's house," Amelia answered.

Jedwin raised his eyebrow in surprise and exchanged a glance with Cora.

"It was Tulsa May's idea," Amelia explained. "When she realized the boys had lost their parents and had no home, she immediately offered her own. It would have been absolutely un-Christian for the reverend and Constance to renege on such an invitation. So I suspect the boys will be there until young Greasy has had time to sort out what he wants to do."

"Maimie will have nothing to do with them?" Cora's question really didn't require an answer. They all already knew.

"No," Amelia said. "It seems that acknowledging her own grandchildren would be a great breach of social etiquette."

The young people nodded silently.

The silence lingered in the tiny little cottage. Again, Amelia cleared her throat.

"It seems, Mrs. Briggs," she said, "that I owe you a rather overdue apology." Determinedly Amelia raised her eyes to Cora's. Her sincerity was visible and genuine. "I have sorely abused you and spoken unkindly against you on too many occasions to even be remembered."

"You didn't know the truth," Cora said evenly.

"Ignorance is no excuse. I was purposely spiteful and vicious about your problems with Luther. And with only modest encouragement from Miss Maimie, I systematically made it my business to ruin your name in this town. For that I am truly sorry."

"Apology accepted."

Amelia looked almost startled at the ease with which she was forgiven. She had yet to feel like it was deserved.

"If these last eight years of abuse were not enough," she continued, “I spoke unkindly about you to my son, who loves you very much. I made unreasonable demands, cruel threats, and . . . and shed guilt-provoking tears."

Amelia's eyes went to Jedwin at this last.

"I've always said that I've done everything to bring my son happiness," she told them. "But when he found that happiness, I tried to take it from him."

"You don't have to ask for my forgiveness, Mama," Jedwin said. "You know you always have it!"

She lowered her eyes to her lap in shame, attempting to hide the tears that gathered in her eyes. Swallowing bravely, she raised her gaze once again to the young couple before her.

"I know that it may be too late," she said. "You are probably thinking that now that Cora is technically a widow and that the story will come out and she will be vindicated through the whole town, I have nothing but my own gain to achieve here. I'm sure there is some truth to that. But I wanted to openly tell you both that I am sorry. I was wrong, all wrong, completely wrong from the beginning. Perhaps you can never forget what I have done, I will understand if you feel that way. But I'm hoping . . . praying . . . begging, I suppose, that you will not shut me out of your lives together."

Jedwin wanted to assure her that such a thing would never happen, but he turned instead to Cora. The decision was hers.

Cora looked back at him for a long moment, before a warm and loving smile came to her lips.

"I have no family of my own, Mrs. Sparrow. Of course we want you in our lives. All children need a grandmother."

The relief on Amelia's face was visible as she dabbed at the comers of her eyes with a handkerchief.

"You are quite right," she said. "Being a grandmother would certainly give me a chance to be the kind of parent I've always wanted to be."

Jedwin grinned at her. "Maybe one of our children will grow up to love the mortuary business."

The laughter was a little strained, but it was genuine.

"About the mortuary, Jedwin," Amelia said. "Your father truly did leave that to you. He loved you and wanted to leave you all that he'd achieved in his life."

"Mama—" Jedwin began.

Amelia held up her hand to interrupt him. "It is not the life for you. That is plain as the sun coming up in the morning. But I can't allow you just to hand it back to me as if it is nothing. It is a very profitable business, and I've some money of my own. I believe, given long-term installments, that I will be able to buy you out."

"Now Mama—"

"Thank you, Mrs. Sparrow," Cora piped in. "We certainly will need some money to get the farm back into shape. Jedwin is hoping to start a commercial floriculture venture. It would be the first in the state. A bit of capital could help him get the business off to a good start."

Jedwin looked at his future wife and raised an eyebrow, but he did not gainsay her.

"I'm sure," Cora told Amelia cheerfully, "that your son can work out some very fair arrangements. He is the most kind, honest, trustworthy man I have ever known. You can be very proud of yourself for raising him right."

It was nearing dark when Amelia left the cottage. The tea had been very nice, and she and Cora were now on a first-name basis. When talking of the wedding, the young couple had suggested a simple service with just themselves and Reverend Bruder. Amelia had dissuaded them.

"Just leave the details to me," she told them. "This will be the biggest, most beautiful church wedding that Dead Dog has ever seen."

Her mind full of wedding details, she had just set the team to a trot when she saw Haywood Puser waiting for her at the end of the fence.

"Oh! Haywood, you frightened me," she said, pulling up. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you, Mellie," he answered. "I came to see if Mrs. Briggs had scratched your eyes out and you'd have to be led home."

Amelia smiled brightly and shook her head. Without invitation, Haywood climbed onto the seat beside her.

"Cora and I are not yet the best of friends, but I think that someday maybe we could be. And that's a good thing for a mother and daughter-in-law."

Haywood grinned. "It's not a bad thing for sons and mothers, either."

With very improper familiarity, he wrapped his arm around her as the horses pulled the buggy at a leisurely pace.

"I went over to the preacher's about the funeral."

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow. We decided just to get it over with for the sake of them kids. They need to get their grieving done and get on with their lives."

Amelia nodded. “How are the boys?''

"They seem to be doing okay," he said. "That little Tulsa May has taken those two on with the same kind of enthusiasm for the project as building those flower boxes for Miss Maimie. And the boys themselves have already managed to win over Constance."

"Really?" Amelia was almost giddy with delight.

"I suspect the reverend will be coming around soon. He already told me that a childhood sorrow such as this had turned many a man to the cloth. And that little Arthel took to juggling the reverend's new Indian clubs like he was a professional."

Amelia's eyes widened with exaggerated glee and they laughed together easily.

Haywood gave her a little squeeze and Amelia pulled away with a look of censure. "Mr. Puser!"

His grin didn't appear particularly apologetic.

"I've decided to buy the mortuary from Jedwin," she said, changing the subject.

"Now that's a damn good idea, Mellie," he said. "It will get this burden off that boy's back once and for all, and give him a little money for his farming to boot."

Amelia smiled at him. "I'm glad that you approve," she said. "Of course, Mr. Puser, I will be keeping you on. You don't have to worry about your job, I assure you."

Haywood shrugged. "Oh, I ain't worried," he said. "They's plenty of jobs on down the line. I'll just be heading out to see what I can find."

"What?"

"I said I'd be heading out."

"Why?" Amelia asked, almost dumbfounded.

'"Cause it's your funeral parlor now. I've always worked for Jedwin, you know."

Amelia's expression hardened. "You won't work for a woman?" she asked, fury glistening self-righteously in her eyes.

"Oh, I don't mind working for a woman, Mellie," he assured her easily. "I just mind working for you."

Amelia's mouth opened in shock and she found herself too stunned to speak. A million thoughts ran through her head, none of them particularly happy.

"Where will you go?" she asked finally.

"Oh, I don't know," Haywood said. "Place don't matter much. I've got this idea to own my own mortuary."

"To own your own mortuary?" Amelia was stunned. "I didn't realize you had the money to start your own business."

"Oh, a man don't always need money," he said. "Lotsa men got themselves a business without putting up a penny."

Amelia shook her head. "I don't know how."

"It's simple, really," Haywood told her. "I just need to find me a widow woman that's got her own mortuary business. I marry up with her and I got my own business, no cash, no carry."

Amelia pulled the horses to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street and gaped at him. She stood staring at Haywood in the center of town.