“I never wanted a big wedding, Aunt Treva,” Kim said, choosing her words carefully. “That has nothing to do with money. My idea of the perfect wedding for myself has always been an intimate ceremony with just me and the man I love. Big weddings are fine for most people, but you know I’ve always been a bit more private.”
“I’d say so,” Treva muttered, still looking disgruntled. “Since we hardly ever even see you.”
“Did I mention that Tate’s writing a book?” Betsy asked rather loudly, drawing the attention back to herself.
Finally, her mother had said something that was true. Kim wasn’t sure how Tate felt about his activities being discussed this way in front of a crowd of strangers, but at least he could acknowledge this one without compromising his ethics.
He started to say something, but then Betsy just had to elaborate. “He’s already got a deal with a major publisher. I’m sure it will be a bestseller, so that means book tours and television interviews. Isn’t that exciting?”
Noting that no one looked particularly excited by yet another boastful update from Betsy, Kim shook her head sternly at her mother in a silent command to stop.
Tossing her head, Betsy looked prepared to continue, but this time Tate interceded. “Actually, my business partner and I are working on a photo-based instruction book for urban vegetable gardening. We don’t actually have a publisher yet, though we’ve had a few promising nibbles.”
Betsy pouted a little that Tate had gently shot down her story. “You’re just being modest, Tate.”
“Now, Betsy, I’m sure everyone knows that you tend to exaggerate a bit,” he shot back.
Biting her lower lip to suppress a smile, Kim wondered if her mother recognized the hint of warning in Tate’s voice. Tate would allow himself to be pushed only so far—and Betsy was getting very close to the limit.
Several barks of laughter, some quickly stifled, followed Tate’s challenge of Betsy’s exaggerations. Kim was pretty sure she heard her brothers’ voices among that outburst. Betsy’s cheeks went pink, though her chin remained high.
Treva, of course, made no effort to hide her gleeful amusement. “Exaggeration is a polite term for some of Betsy’s outright—”
“Not at the table, Treva,” Grandma Dyess cut in firmly, effectively ending the brewing quarrel. Both her daughters subsided into seething looks at each other.
Somewhat inevitably, Betsy took out her annoyance on Kim in a last-ditch attempt to save face. “You’re the one who told me about your husband’s book deal.”
Kim caught Daryn’s hand when the baby reached for Kim’s fork. “I told you Tate’s working on a book, Mom, but I didn’t give you any other details.”
“Well, yes, but you said—”
“You really don’t want to take this any further, Mom.” Kim hoped she injected the same amount of subtle warning in her tone that Tate had earlier. If it worked for him, maybe it was something she should try more often in the future.
“But—”
“Who made this delicious vegetable casserole?” Tate asked quickly, nudging Kim’s knee with his own beneath the table. “Reminds me of one of the dishes on the Emperor’s Platter at my favorite restaurant.”
Taking the hint, Kim focused on her daughter again, though she vowed that if her mother continued to push, it was damn the consequences. Kim was getting close to throwing up her hands and blurting out the whole truth behind her visit. Though she was caring less and less about how her mother would react, she was keeping her mouth shut—for now—out of consideration for her grandmother. But she was making no guarantees even to herself that her patience would last the rest of the day.
Chapter Six
When everyone had eaten their fill, Betsy and Treva—and Bob, of course—headed for the kitchen to start clearing away while most of the other men escaped back to the family room and the ball games. Kim and her cousins tried to help with cleanup, but their offers were declined for lack of space in the kitchen.
“Why don’t you come watch the game with us, Tate,” Julian suggested. “I want to show you a website on my phone that I found last night. It’s got all kinds of useful information about classic muscle cars.”
Tate nodded. He’d barely had a chance to speak with Kim’s brothers since they’d arrived earlier, and while Stuart seemed no more interested in getting to know him than he had last night, Julian, at least, was making a reasonably friendly overture.
Patty and Cara Lynn decided to pour fresh glasses of iced tea and go out in the backyard with Abby, Harper and Lucas. Patty had brought an assortment of outdoor toys to entertain the kids, and she and Cara Lynn had both brought a stack of magazines for themselves. Treva, Betsy and Bob promised to join them out on the patio as soon as the kitchen was set to rights.
“Since you’re not doing anything else right now,” Grandma said to Kim, “you and I can go talk about my arthritis. My hands have been giving me some trouble lately. Maybe you’ll have some tricks my therapist hasn’t thought of yet.”
Kim agreed without hesitation. Though basically she was being asked to give a free therapy session on her day off, she didn’t seem to mind. Tate suspected both Kim and her grandmother were using the therapy as an excuse to interact a bit more during this rare visit.
“I’ll watch the baby,” Sandi offered eagerly, stepping forward with extended hands. “Maybe she’d like to come into the den and play on the floor with some toys while we watch the game. I’ll put out a blanket for her to lie on and I’ll sit by her while she plays.”
Kim’s pause was almost imperceptible before she said, “I’m sure she would like that. She’s probably tired of being held.”
As if in confirmation, Daryn kicked her legs energetically. Sandi crooned baby-talk gibberish as she carefully cradled Daryn in her arms.