Free The Hot Flash Club Strikes Again by Nancy Thayer Page B

milk and poured himself a glass. “What did you think of him, Mom?”
    “Oh, darling, he’s beautiful. I’ve never seen such a beautiful baby, except, of course, when you were born.”
    “Thanks, Mom.” David smacked a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going up to see them.”
    “Take off your boots first!” Katrina reminded him.
    “Oh, yeah, sure.” David dropped down into a chair to unlace his boots.
    Katrina rose, smiling at Polly with the noblesse oblige of someone putting change in a hobo’s cup. “It was good of you to come out, Polly. We’ll call you again, when everyone’s feeling a little stronger.”
    Polly stared at Katrina. Surely she didn’t mean Polly should leave now? “I’ve brought some gifts for Jehoshaphat and Amy,” Polly said. “I’d love to give them to her.”
    Katrina bristled. “Those
things
in the wicker basket?”
    “Yes. I brought clothes and blankets I’ve been saving for years. They were all David’s.”
    “Oh. I see.” Katrina’s jaw set. “I’m sorry, Polly, but I’d rather Amy didn’t use old things on little Jehoshaphat.”
    Polly gaped. “But Amy said you only wear clothing from thrift shops.”
    “Yes, but we know which shops are hygienic.”
    “Well, Katrina, I washed them all in hot water. They’re—”
    “Very well.” Katrina sighed. “I’ll check them to see if they’re all cotton. Amy was always allergic as a child, and Jehoshaphat might be, too.” With her eyes still on Polly, she said, “David, wash your hands before you go up.”
    “Oh, yeah, right.” David washed his hands, then pecked a kiss on his mother’s forehead and headed for the stairs. “See you later, Mom.” Off he went in his stocking feet, up the back stairs, taking them two at a time.
    “I’ll walk you to the door,” Katrina said to Polly.
    ——————————
    Polly wept as she drove back to her house. She felt helpless, frustrated, and furious. At home, she stomped through her hall to her study off the kitchen at the back of the house. She would pour herself a glass of wine and phone Franny and vent.
    Familiar bumps sounded down the stairs. Roy Orbison waddled in to greet her, looking hopeful.
    “Hello, old friend,” she said. “I’ll feed you in a minute.” The message light on her answering machine was blinking.
    “Polly.” Her mother-in-law’s ringing voice sounded loud and clear. “This is Claudia. I wonder whether you might be able to come to tea tomorrow. Anytime in the afternoon. Let me know as soon as you can.”
    Tea? With Claudia?
    ——————————
    From the first moment they’d met, Claudia had made Polly aware that Claudia did not approve of her. In fact, Claudia had disliked every single thing about Polly and never hesitated to make this crystal clear.
    To start, Polly was from South Boston, which in Claudia’s view signified that Polly was hopelessly unsophisticated and, worse, completely unimportant. This was so embarrassing for Claudia, really it was, to have a daughter-in-law who was so
common.
    Then there was the matter of appearance. Polly should have been, as Claudia was, regally tall and slender, with straight, obedient hair. Instead, Polly was short, buxom, and freckled, with rebellious curly red hair. In high school and college, Polly’s cheerful, bouncy good looks won her the position of head cheerleader. As an adult, her mature curves drew admiring glances from men and easy hugs from children. Around Claudia, Polly wore her most modest, nunlike clothes, and still the older woman’s face pinched with disapproval when she looked at Polly.
    “I can’t hide the fact that I have breasts!” Polly had wailed to Tucker one night.
    “And thank heavens for that!” Tucker had assured her.
    But what Claudia abhorred most about Polly was that she was a seamstress, spending her days working on other people’s clothing. Claudia’s disapproval turned to bitter resentment when Polly continued with her business after