in a place like this. The thought of me working in this dump was too much for him to handle.”
Luke’s lips twitched in an almost smile. “Mama didn’t like it much either.”
Did people really pay that much attention to pedigree these days?
Beatrice Brill would probably have a heart attack if she knew about Florence.
What made Corbin think she’d marry him? She’d never given him a reason to believe she was attracted to him, and the question of love had never come up. He’d kissed her a few times, awkward closed-mouthed kisses that seemed to embarrass him. Apparently he wasn’t experienced with women any more than she was with men. He’d talked about his mother often, about her plans for his future. He’d disappointed her by not getting accepted into law school.
If Laura had had a chance of going to college, she would have worked her butt off to get good grades. She was a reasonably good student in high school, although there were times when she was too tired to do her homework after working in the café all afternoon and evening. Queenie had never asked if she had homework or if she had a test to study for; she’d just expected her to work.
If she ever had children, they wouldn’t grow up working like she had.
Her children would have a better life.
Chapter Seven
I vy kept her room and Laura’s apartment clean, did the laundry and helped clean the café after Laura closed in the evenings. She came over for meals when there was no one else around, slipping quietly in the back door. She seemed afraid of something.
Laura knew she could be inviting trouble, but she couldn’t throw the kid out. It didn’t make sense to let Ivy wander around, starving, sleeping who knew where, and putting herself in danger when there were so many vacant rooms in the motel.
Ivy said she called her parents, but if she did, she called collect, because the only long distance charges on Laura’s phone bill were to Ocala, to her own parents.
The first Monday after she opened the café, Ivy put a coat of paint on the restroom walls. The next Monday, she put on the second coat. It looked great with the new floors. Laura inspected the work. “Good job, Ivy. If only I could afford to paint the outside.”
“It’s too hot to work out there.”
“It sure is. This is the hottest May I can remember.” It was too early for it to be this hot and miserable.
The hot sun should have burned off some of the moisture in the air, but it hadn’t. The air hung, heavy with heat and humidity, smothering every living thing. Flowers bloomed and wilted in the scorching sun. Mosquitoes swarmed from the palmetto bushes behind the motel, munching on every bit of exposed skin.
No, this was definitely not a good time to work outside.
<>
Chubby’s old furniture arrived Wednesday afternoon. Laura picked some pieces for the dining area and Luke stored the rest in a vacant motel room. As they moved the old furniture out and put the new in, the café was transformed. The blue carpet with the little pink and yellow flowers looked great with the dark furniture, and the slight pink tinge of the walls gave the room a warm glow. What would Queenie think? Would she still think Laura was lazy?
Yes, she probably would.
Luke and his delivery man loaded up most of the old furniture from the café to take to the dump, including the sagging chair Queenie used to sit in all the time. The legs were bowed out from her weight, the back angled back more than the others, and the stuffing from the seat cushion peeked out of the cracked vinyl. It was a wonder it hadn’t collapsed under her.
The men took one full load to the dump and came back for the rest. The truck was only half full the second time, so Laura asked, “Could you take a few more things? I need to get rid of Queenie’s old furniture, including the bed. Everything in that room needs to go. Room fifteen, right behind the diner. It’s not locked.”
Luke helped his driver load up and brought
Luke’s lips twitched in an almost smile. “Mama didn’t like it much either.”
Did people really pay that much attention to pedigree these days?
Beatrice Brill would probably have a heart attack if she knew about Florence.
What made Corbin think she’d marry him? She’d never given him a reason to believe she was attracted to him, and the question of love had never come up. He’d kissed her a few times, awkward closed-mouthed kisses that seemed to embarrass him. Apparently he wasn’t experienced with women any more than she was with men. He’d talked about his mother often, about her plans for his future. He’d disappointed her by not getting accepted into law school.
If Laura had had a chance of going to college, she would have worked her butt off to get good grades. She was a reasonably good student in high school, although there were times when she was too tired to do her homework after working in the café all afternoon and evening. Queenie had never asked if she had homework or if she had a test to study for; she’d just expected her to work.
If she ever had children, they wouldn’t grow up working like she had.
Her children would have a better life.
Chapter Seven
I vy kept her room and Laura’s apartment clean, did the laundry and helped clean the café after Laura closed in the evenings. She came over for meals when there was no one else around, slipping quietly in the back door. She seemed afraid of something.
Laura knew she could be inviting trouble, but she couldn’t throw the kid out. It didn’t make sense to let Ivy wander around, starving, sleeping who knew where, and putting herself in danger when there were so many vacant rooms in the motel.
Ivy said she called her parents, but if she did, she called collect, because the only long distance charges on Laura’s phone bill were to Ocala, to her own parents.
The first Monday after she opened the café, Ivy put a coat of paint on the restroom walls. The next Monday, she put on the second coat. It looked great with the new floors. Laura inspected the work. “Good job, Ivy. If only I could afford to paint the outside.”
“It’s too hot to work out there.”
“It sure is. This is the hottest May I can remember.” It was too early for it to be this hot and miserable.
The hot sun should have burned off some of the moisture in the air, but it hadn’t. The air hung, heavy with heat and humidity, smothering every living thing. Flowers bloomed and wilted in the scorching sun. Mosquitoes swarmed from the palmetto bushes behind the motel, munching on every bit of exposed skin.
No, this was definitely not a good time to work outside.
<>
Chubby’s old furniture arrived Wednesday afternoon. Laura picked some pieces for the dining area and Luke stored the rest in a vacant motel room. As they moved the old furniture out and put the new in, the café was transformed. The blue carpet with the little pink and yellow flowers looked great with the dark furniture, and the slight pink tinge of the walls gave the room a warm glow. What would Queenie think? Would she still think Laura was lazy?
Yes, she probably would.
Luke and his delivery man loaded up most of the old furniture from the café to take to the dump, including the sagging chair Queenie used to sit in all the time. The legs were bowed out from her weight, the back angled back more than the others, and the stuffing from the seat cushion peeked out of the cracked vinyl. It was a wonder it hadn’t collapsed under her.
The men took one full load to the dump and came back for the rest. The truck was only half full the second time, so Laura asked, “Could you take a few more things? I need to get rid of Queenie’s old furniture, including the bed. Everything in that room needs to go. Room fifteen, right behind the diner. It’s not locked.”
Luke helped his driver load up and brought
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