“You don’t need to convince me.”
“You don’t know my aunt Harriett.” Jayne wiped the hair off her forehead. “She’s like a pit bull. I’ve never seen anything like it. She gets hold of an idea and won’t let go. She’s going to needle away at me, push all my buttons, and remind me of everything she’s ever done for me, and before I know how it happened I’ll give in.”
“Will you really?” Reba was more sympathetic than she sounded. In a number of ways Jayne’s aunt Harriett reminded her of her own mother. Ever since her falling-out with Vicki—although that was putting it mildly—Reba’s mother had hounded her to mend fences with her sister. Like Jayne’s aunt Harriett, Joan Maxwell didn’t give up easily, either.
Jayne glanced anxiously toward Reba. “Come to church with me on Sunday, will you?”
“Me?” If Jayne couldn’t dissuade good ol’ Aunt Harriett, it was unlikely Reba would do a better job.
“Steve won’t be able to come—he’s worked every Sunday for the last month, and Aunt Harriett is sure to corner me, especially with Steve not there. She has a way of getting to me.”
“And you want me there to ward her off?”
“No…well, yes. You don’t know my aunt Harriett. Before I can help it, she’ll have me backed up against a wall.”
Reba hesitated. “Maybe deep down you’re secretly dying to take over the Christmas pageant.”
Jayne mocked her with an abrupt laugh. “Read my lips. I refuse to do this just because my aunt Harriett thinks I should.” Her eyes softened and she looked imploringly at Reba. “You’ll come, won’t you?”
Reba didn’t refuse. This could prove to be downright entertaining. Besides, she’d like to formally meet Harriett. “I’ll be there.”
“Don’t let me down,” Jayne pleaded.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” Smiling to herself, Reba returned to the task at hand.
The phone pealed again, and since her other two employees were on their lunch break, and Jayne remained shaken after the confrontation with her aunt, Reba answered it herself. “Way to Go Travel.”
“Hello, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Mom.” So Reba was due to face her own nemesis. It must be the day for it, she reflected.
“I hate to pester you at the office. You’re not busy, are you?”
She opened her mouth to say that she was in the middle of something important. Her mother didn’t need to know it was merely alphabetizing her Rolodex cards. She wasn’t given the chance.
“I promise to only keep you a moment.”
“Mom…”
“It’s about Christmas.”
“Haven’t we already been through this?”
“No,” her mother denied. “Sweetheart, it’s less than a month away.”
Her mother held true to course: hurt, anger, guilt, in that precise order. It astonished Reba how the routine didn’t waver. Year after year, battle after battle.
Reba replaced the telephone receiver and released a pent-up sigh.
“Your mother?” Jayne asked.
She nodded. A part of her wanted to explain what had happened, but she bit her tongue. Few people truly understood, and deep down she feared Jayne would be like all the rest. She didn’t want advice, didn’t want to hear that it would be far wiser to settle her differences with Vicki. Nor was she seeking pity. All she wanted was for someone to recognize that she’d been wronged.
“I need to run some errands,” she announced suddenly. “Will you be all right by yourself?” What Reba really needed was a few minutes alone to compose herself.
“Sure,” Jayne assured her, although they both knew it wasn’t true. Office procedure stated that no employee should be left alone to deal with both the phone and the foot traffic.
“I’ll be back shortly,” Reba promised on her way out the door.
“Take however long you need.”
Sunday morning Reba arrived for the worship service ten minutes early, knowing Jayne would be waiting anxiously for her. She stood inside the vestibule as the organ music filled the small sanctuary.
She didn’t have long to wait. Jayne, with her two daughters in tow, arrived shortly.
“Thank goodness you’re here.”
“Have you met up with Aunt Harriet?”
“Not yet. I managed to escape her just now in the hallway outside the girls’ Sunday school classroom. I pretended not to hear her.”