Chapter 6
Chapter Six
T he next day I met old man Truman Winters at my mailbox out front on Lighthouse Lane. Truman was nearly blind and a bit forgetful. Even with his coke-bottle glasses, he still delivered the wrong mail to people on a daily basis. He really should retire, but he was the nicest man in town, and being Mayflower’s mail carrier gave him a purpose since his wife passed away years ago.
Zoe hooked him up with pies each week, Harm gave him a different essential oil each week, Morti had coffee talks weekly, and I had my staff give him a therapeutic massage monthly. He was a special man to us all.
“Good morning, Ms. Eisenhower.” Truman tipped his head gallantly, his mailbag slung across his body and over his shoulder.”
“Good morning, Truman.” I smiled wide. “How’s the back?”
“Right as rain, I supposed, though I don’t know how right rain is. All I know is it’s going to rain soon. My knees are telling me so something fierce.”
I looked at the cloudless sky, but past experience told me Truman knew best when it came to the weather. “Glad to hear that massage is helping. Come back any time. We’ll get those knees fixed.”
“You girls are so good to me.” He shook his gray head and pushed his thick glasses up his nose. “Don’t know what I did to deserve all the love.”
“Look at you.” I winked. “What’s not to love?”
He blushed. “Speaking of love, I hear congratulations are in order for you and Mr. McGinnis. Twins! Isn’t that somethin’?”
The rumor mill in Mayflower was about as rampant as they came. I should have known everyone would know by now, especially since Gerty and Gabby Rogers had been at the doctor’s the same day as me. Nothing got by those two.
“It sure is something.” I smiled through clenched teeth.
“Best of luck to you both. Babies are a miracle if you’re lucky enough to be blessed with them.” His eyes grew misty. He and his late wife had never conceived. This town was all he had left. “Oh, before I forget, I got a package for you today.”
I took the padded envelope from him and discreetly checked the name to be sure it belonged to me. It did, so I smiled. “Thank you, Truman. You have a good day…despite the rain.” I glanced at the still cloudless sky.
“Gonna be a doozy,” he said, and hurried on his way just as a rumble of thunder sounded way off in the distance.
I just shook my head and opened my package as I walked back toward my front door. And stopped. And stared. I sat down on a chair on the front porch of my building. A scarlet letter, only this one was an H instead of an A. The word Harlot was written across a single piece of paper. No signature. Cowards.
I wasn’t an adulteress or a harlot. I was simply an unwed mother.
This town was so old-fashioned. Most likely Gerty and Gabby—the town’s resident busybody troublemakers—had heard that Matt had proposed, and I said no. If you could even call it a proposal. It had been more like an order. Nothing romantic about it. This wasn’t the seventeenth century, for crying out loud. I wasn’t going to marry a man who didn’t even love me.
I wasn’t going to marry a man, period.
End of story.
Amen.
All I wanted was the same respect they had shown my grandmother. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so, yet they expected me to continue supporting her causes with my inheritance. I sighed, feeling emotional. I wasn’t a weepy kind of woman, but ever since my diagnosis, I felt on the verge of tears constantly.
Diagnosis .
I chuckled inwardly. A diagnosis implied there was something wrong with me. Babies weren’t a disease, but pregnancy was a condition. And being pregnant with twins at forty was a high-risk condition at that. Chocolate. Maybe that was what I needed. I stood and was about to enter my house when I saw Bitsy Beaumont walking down the street.
Bitsy was a party planner, but she was more the traditional kind, which this town was all about. Not long ago she and Zoe had been competing to win the bid to plan the Labor Day Bash for the mayor, and he had been looking for something fresh and new. Zoe had turned her catering business into a full-blown modern party-planning business, winning the bid.
Bitsy left town shortly after. She normally looked so put together, like Martha Stewart, but the competition had taken its toll on her. She’d left town looking frazzled. We all had assumed she needed a break from Mayflower and had taken her business somewhere else to start over.
I studied her closer…
Bitsy Beaumont was pregnant!
But why were people stopping her, smiling, and acting like she was the town’s pride and joy? No scarlet letter for her. Meanwhile, the old gossips crossed the street when they saw me coming.
Principal Brimstone came out of a bakery and handed Bitsy a pastry and a glass of milk, then slid his arm around her as they walked my way. As they drew closer, I saw the last of the sunlight shine off the massive ring on her finger, and realization dawned.
Bitsy had said yes .
A flash of what my life might have looked like had I said yes to Matt was right in front of me. I could have had it all: a man to call my own, a family that was mine…respect. Instead, I was the town harlot, while she was the not-so-virgin Mary.
I turned toward the door to my salon, intending to raid my chocolate stash and eat it all in one sitting. Even if I had heartburn for days, it would be worth it. I reached for the doorknob when a voice rang out behind me.
“Tiffany Eisenhower, how nice to see you again,” the feminine voice purred.
I pasted on a smile and slowly turned around. “Bitsy Beaumont, what a surprise.”
“It’s Brimstone now. Bitsy Brimstone, right, darling?” She smiled up at the man beside her, running a hand over her rounded stomach. I didn’t know anything about babies, but if I was two months along, she had to be four or five.
His face flushed bright red, the thin strands of black hair combed over his bald spot slipping as he cleared his throat. Pulling at the collar of his shirt, he replied, “Uh…right, darling.”
“Congratulations to the both of you,” I said.
“Thank you. Isn’t it a miracle?” Bitsy shook her head in wonder. “I didn’t think I could have children.”
“Neither did I,” Brimstone muttered.
Bitsy went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “This town has welcomed me back with open arms, all because my Roger made an honest woman out of me.”
“Yes, well, a man of honor does the right thing.” He had the nerve to look down his nose at me. “Or tries to.”
“Well, I for one, don’t care to be in a loveless marriage just because I’m pregnant.” I looked at Bitsy, but my comment went completely over her head.
Brimstone narrowed his eyes, reading me loud and clear.
“Come along, darling.” He guided Bitsy across the street, talking as he walked. “We need to get you and the baby out of the elements.” He glanced back at me. “A storm’s coming, and I don’t want to be anywhere near it when it hits.”
A rumble of thunder sounded closer this time, and they picked up the pace until they disappeared down the street. The first fat raindrops began to fall, and I hurried inside my house to my apartment upstairs, feeling more alone than ever.
A couple hours later, a knock sounded on my door.
I frowned and looked through the peephole, then burst into tears as I gladly opened the door. Zoe quickly stepped inside, carrying the casserole she’d made me to my kitchen counter, and then giving me a big hug.
“What is wrong with me?” I asked. “All I do is cry…and throw up…and eat.” I inhaled the smell of chicken, cheese, stuffing, and seasonings, my mouth watering instantly.
“It’s called the first trimester, hon.” She patted my back before letting me go. “It’ll get better. I promise.”
I grabbed a couple of plates from my cupboards and some silverware from the drawer. “Thank you for dinner. I know how busy you are with running four kids around, organizing the Labor Day Bash, and planning your wedding.”
“True, but it’s finally summer. School’s out, so we don’t have nearly as many extracurricular activities going on. Not to mention, I’m not alone in this anymore. I have Chaz.” She smiled gently and declined the plate I tried to hand her. “I already ate, but I’ll sit with you while you eat. You don’t have to be alone, either, you know.”
“I am never getting married again.” I shoved a forkful of food into my mouth, still amazed at how hungry I could be after being so sick in the morning.
“I’m not talking marriage necessarily. Just letting someone help you. The girls and I heard about Matt’s proposal.”
“I was just about to text you all before you came over. It’s been a day. That’s for sure.” I refilled my plate and headed to the living room.
Zoe grabbed two bottles of water and followed me. “It sounds it. Twins? That’s incredible, Tiff.” She handed me one bottle as she curled up on the couch.
“Thanks, doll.” I took the bottle from her and drank deeply. I thought about her words. “It is incredible and terrifying!”
“You’re a rockstar. You can do anything.” Zoe studied me. “I take it your talk went well with Matt if he proposed. How romantic.”
“He didn’t ask me to marry him.” I blew out a big breath. “He stated we would get married as if it were a fact. Nothing romantic about it.”
“And you said no,” she said softly.
“Of course, I said no . I have my own money. I don’t need his. I’m all for him having rights and being a part of his children’s lives, but that doesn’t require me marrying another man who doesn’t even love me.”
“How do you know he doesn’t?”
I looked her in the eyes. “Because he barely even knows me.” I thought about that. Did he have an ulterior motive? “There has to be another reason he’s so adamant about marrying me.” I didn’t trust men after all the men in my life had let me down.
“Um, you’re having his babies.” She grinned wide and chuckled. “I think he knows you quite well.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed, then sobered. “He knows me physically, but he has no clue what kind of person I am. He judged me because of my divorce, slept with me anyway, and now he wants to do the right thing by marrying me. I’ll pass, thank you very much.”
“I don’t blame you, but I hope you know you have us.” She rubbed her hands together. “We’re going to be the best aunties to your beautiful babies. They are going to be gorgeous with you and Matt as the parents.”
“Well, there is that.” I laughed, trying to see the bright side to my situation. “Seriously, though. I am grateful to have you girls in my life.”
“Always.” She squeezed my hand. “So, what’s next?”
“I don’t have a clue. I was hoping you would tell me.” I was in way over my head when it came to babies.
“We go shopping for maternity clothes.” Zoe nodded.
My eyes widened with a very real understanding of what was to come. “Oh, no, you mean I actually have to wear the dreaded granny panties?”
“Hey, my undergarments are not granny panties. At least not now. And no, you’ll be wearing maternity panties.”
I groaned. “I don’t see much difference.”
“Hey, trust me, when you get in your last trimester, you’ll appreciate having comfy clothes.”
“Oh, and don’t bother throwing me a baby shower. I’m wealthy and old enough to buy my own things. Besides, no one would come except you girls and my employees. I don’t need that kind of hit to my self-esteem.”
“The town will come around. Look at how they were after Max left me. I thought they would never see me as anything except the ex-fire chief’s wife. No one took me or my business seriously until I won the Labor Day Bash.”
“All I know is they loved my grandmother, and I am most definitely not her.” She was fierce and independent like me, yet traditional like the town.
“They loved her because she spent her money on Mayflower. You’ll figure out what’s important to you and do the same.”
“That’s just it. They didn’t ask me if I wanted to do the same, they just expected me to. That’s the frustrating part. I had already planned to keep Grammy’s investments going because they were important to her, but the least they could do is treat me with respect.”
“How have they disrespected you? Did something happen?”
I walked over to my desk and pulled out a piece of paper. “I got this in the mail today.” I showed her the red H.
Zoe gasped. “Who sent that?”
I shrugged. “There was no name or return address. I have a hunch it was the Rogers sisters.”
“Well, that would explain it. Remember the petition they organized for a lower curfew because of the scandal surrounding Lexi?” Zoe’s daughter had been accused of spreading indecent pictures of herself around, but the rumors weren’t true.
“Yes, but the truth came out in the end, thank goodness, and the curfew didn’t stick.”
“True, but it wouldn’t surprise me if those old biddy hypochondriacs were up to their crazy antics again. That’s just so wrong. Not to mention unfair and not true. They shouldn’t get away with it.” Zoe shook her head. “What are you going to do?”
That seemed to be the question of my life lately. “Beat them at their own game.” I stared at the envelope on the table. “I have an idea. My Grammy always said, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade …with a splash of gin, of course.” I shrugged. “I just have to find my gin.”