Free His Good Girl by Dinah McLeod Page B

Kevin with a raised eyebrow. Have you seen enough yet , I asked him silently.
    Seeing that he would get no help from me, he reached forward and opened the screen door. It groaned as he pulled it open, barely hanging on by the one metal hinge that kept it attached to the door frame. He knocked firmly on the door and took a step back, at which point I moved past him and opened it. Mama liked a warning; that was all. She'd never actually get up to answer the door, which was why she never kept it locked.
    "Ma?" I called out as I crossed the threshold. I didn't bother to look behind me to see if he'd followed—since we'd made it this far despite my pleas and warnings, I knew he'd be right behind me. "It's Cara! Ma?" I could smell her before I saw her—all my eyes had to do was follow the heavy scent of cigarette smoke and there she was, leaning against the wall, eyeing me with something akin to disdain.
    "'Course it's you," she said, blowing smoke out of her mouth. "Who else would it be?"
    I tried to smile, tried to think of something nice to say, but both attempts were useless.
    "Woulda been nice if you'd called to say you was comin', though."
    I could feel Kevin's eyes on me, but didn't turn to meet them. "Ma, I came because I have some news." With anyone else, you'd say good news, or great news, even. With my mom, you portioned everything out in only the information you had to give. "I'm getting married." I extended my arm, my fingers splayed for her to see the gleaming pearl, but she hardly glanced at it before turning her attention back to her Virginia Slim .
    "I see. And I suppose this here is your fella?" she said.
    I nodded, smiling tightly at my husband-to-be.
    Kevin acted as if not a thing in the world was wrong as he stepped toward my mom and embraced her.
    She laughed, which I'm sure surprised the mess out of both of us.
    "He's certainly a… handsy thing, ain't he? Say there, handsome, why don't you scoot to the kitchen? There's a nice, cold pitcher of iced tea in the fridge. Cara and I's gonna excuse ourselves to the patio and have us a little talk."
    Kevin nodded agreeably and went to do her bidding, because that was the kind of gentleman he was. Not that my mother would appreciate it.
    She didn't even wait until we'd reached the backyard, nor did she trouble to lower her voice. "Why'd you go and get engaged , huh? What do you want to get married for?"
    I sighed. I hadn't expected any better, but it still hurt. "I know you think all men are evil and marriage is a clever ploy of the Enemy, but—"
    "What are you talkin' about? I was married, wasn't I?"
    "He's a nice man, Mom."
    "Oh, I can see that. I can see that from right here." She was craning her neck to look into the kitchen, and I could feel my hackles rising.
    "Mom, please. I'm begging you, be nice."
    "Nice?" she echoed, with her trademark wide-eyed innocence. "Who said a thing about not bein' nice, Darlin'? I'm always nice, baby girl."
    Yep, I thought, smiling tightly. Always—to everyone but me, it seemed.
    When Kevin slid the door open to join us, he was carrying two glasses of iced tea which he set down on the table. "I'm sorry," he said, "I looked for some lemon to slice up, but couldn't find any."
    "Why, aren't you the sweetest thing?" My mom practically purred as she leaned forward and touched his arm. "I'm afraid I need to do some grocery shoppin'."
    "I could run out and—"
    "No, y'all just got here, I don't wantcha runnin' around and tirin' yourself out. Never you mind, just have a seat here, next to me."
    I struggled not to roll my eyes. That was my mom; sweet southern belle to every stranger she met, but a vicious critic where her only daughter was concerned. That summed it up in a neat little package. Suddenly, I desperately wished I'd opened up to Kevin about my mother. If I'd told him, maybe he wouldn't be looking at her like he was eating out of the palm of her hand. Right then, I didn't know who I was more irked at; her, for being her usual