Free The Man She Married by Ann DeFee

changed since the sixties—same appliances, same color scheme and the same pine table that had been the epicenter of the family for years.
    “Please tell me you didn’t pay money for that…abomination.” She handed Maizie a steaming mug of coffee and put a plate of homemade chocolate-chip cookies on the table.
    “I did,” Maizie admitted. “Quite a bit in fact.”
    Mama refilled her own mug and joined her daughter. “Is it supposed to be a joke?”
    “No, actually it isn’t. I paid Trina Carruthers fifty bucks to put it together.”
    Eleanor gave an eloquent snort. “That girl’s taste is all in her mouth. The only reason she’s still in business is because folks don’t have a choice.”
    “Yeah, it’s pretty gross, isn’t it? She really doesn’t like me, so I suppose that didn’t help.”
    “You never told me what she has against you.” Mama cocked her head. “It started in high school, didn’t it? What did you do?”
    Maizie assumed an innocent, wide-eyed expression. “Me? Why would you think I did something?”
    Mama didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.
    Maizie held her hands up. “Okay, I give. I sort of hijacked her boyfriend at the prom. It wasn’t all my fault, really it wasn’t. Ask Liza, she was there.” She’d gone to the prom without a date and no one would ask her to dance because of Clay. So she took matters intoher own hands and asked Arlon Higgenbotham—Trina’s on-again, off-again boyfriend.
    “Lordy, girl.” Mama shook her head. “Oh, well, that’s water under the bridge. So back to the problem at hand, do you have any plans for winning your husband back, other than showering him with ugly gifts?”
    “Not really. I’ve left him a couple of messages.” More like hundreds, but who was counting? “And he hasn’t returned any of my calls.”
    Mama got up to freshen her coffee. “He’s not too happy with you, but I suspect he’s more hurt than mad.”
    “So what do you suggest?” Maizie bit into another cookie.
    “I have an idea, but let’s get your sister over here and see what she thinks. In the meantime you can help me with these pies for the bake sale.”
    Maizie had been so immersed in her own problems she hadn’t noticed the desserts in various stages of completion. “What’s the charity and how many did you promise them?”
    “Just ten and they’re for the Humane Society.”
    “What do you want me to do?” Maizie rummaged through the drawer looking for an apron. Baking wasn’t her forte but she was a good helper.
    By the time Liza arrived Maizie was covered in flour and had a smudge of blueberry pie filling on her face.
    “You can’t stay clean when you’re cooking, can you?” Liza asked, wiping blue goo off her sister’s cheek. “What’s the big emergency? I was in the middle of something.”
    “Something wicked, I hope.” Lately Maizie had aone-track mind. Just because she wasn’t getting any didn’t mean she couldn’t live vicariously.
    And Liza was a mind reader. “Nope, afraid not. We were raking leaves.”
    “Oh. You want a little of this.” Maizie held up a spatula with the remnants of the chocolate pie filling.
    “You go ahead. You probably need it more than I do.”
    Maizie saluted as she licked the plastic utensil. Liza was right. If she couldn’t have love, by God she’d have chocolate.

Chapter Fifteen

    As usual, Liza didn’t mince words. “So why are we here?”
    “I started my courting campaign and I’m afraid I’ve already hit a snag.” Maizie joined her sister at the table.
    “What’s the problem?” Liza pulled the plate of chocolate-chip cookies closer and helped herself.
    “I bought him a gift basket and left it on the porch.”
    “So?”
    “Go take a gander,” Mama chimed in. “It’s the tackiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
    “You bought him something tacky?” Liza shot Maizie a “what’s up” look. “I thought you were trying to get back in his good graces.”
    “I am.” Maizie popped