Mother's Day Read Online Free PDF Page A

familiar, caustic tone that made Karen’s heart shrivel up inside. “No. It’s something I feel great about.”
    When Karen had tried to reassure her that she and Greg loved her more than anything, more than they could have loved their own child, Jenny had referred to this, in a bored voice, as “the party line. I’ve heard it before.” Karen shook her head, recalling the defiant look on that small, white, freckled face, the ill-disguised hurt in those blue eyes as she pushed her dark hair back off her forehead in a familiar, unconscious gesture. There was no getting through to Jenny these days. It’s a hard age, Karen reminded herself. It’s harder on her than it is on you. But secretly Karen missed the old Jenny—the winsome, affectionate child she used to be.
    Greg appeared in the dining room door, a grim look on his face. Karen’s heart swooped down in her chest. She watched him fearfully as he crossed the room.
    Greg resumed his seat and Karen could see at once that he was not worried, but angry. “What happened?” she said. “Was she there?”
    Greg shook out his napkin and picked up his menu. He did not meet her gaze. His voice was harsh. “I spoke to Peggy’s father. It seems that Jenny and Peggy went to an afternoon movie.”
    At first, all she could feel was relief. And then her cheeks began to burn. Jenny had shunned her celebration on Mother’s Day. There was no avoiding the blow.
    Greg lowered his menu. “Wait until I get a hold of her,” he said. His face was stony with anger, but Karen could see hurt and confusion in his eyes.
    “Maybe there’s some reason,” said Karen, her voice trailing off.
    “Don’t defend her,” he said. “There’s no excuse for this.”
    “At least she’s safe,” said Karen.
    “Goddammit,” said Greg. “I can’t believe she went trotting off to a movie.”
    “Don’t,” Karen whispered as the people at the next table turned to look at them. “It’s bad enough.”
    “I’m sorry,” said Greg, leaning back in his seat. “I’m sorry “
    “It’s not your fault,” Karen said.
    “Maybe she did forget,” he said lamely.
    “We both know she didn’t forget,” Karen replied.
    Greg stared out the window for a minute. Then he turned back to his wife. “Well,” he said briskly. “Let’s order our lunch.”
    “I can’t,” said Karen. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
    Greg leaned across the table. “Sweetheart,” he said.
    “Don’t let her ruin it for you. Just because she’s not here. It’ll be like a date. Just the two of us “
    Karen looked at him helplessly. “It’s Mother’s Day,” she said.
    Greg sighed, defeated. “I know.”
    “Let’s go home,” she said.
    “All right.”
    Karen groped for her purse and stood up as Greg scanned the room for the red hair of their waitress, caught her eye, and summoned her. Karen felt as if everyone in the restaurant were staring at them as Greg gave the waitress a tip and a hurried excuse. Karen trained her gaze on the floor as they left the inn.
    Neither one of them spoke as Greg opened the door for her, then went around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel. “Put your seat belt on,” he said gently as the motor idled. Karen did as she was told.
    Just as Greg started to back out of the parking space, their waitress appeared at the doorway to the inn and waved to them. For a moment Karen’s heart lifted as the woman trundled toward their car.
    Jenny had called. It was all a mistake. She was on her way. Karen rolled down the window as the woman reached the car, her coppery hair agleam in the afternoon sun.
    “You left this at your place,” said the woman breathlessly.
    Karen looked down at the box holding the locket that the woman extended to her.
    Karen took the box and put it in her lap. “Thank you,” she said numbly. She stared down at her gift.
    “Hope you feel better,” said the waitress kindly. She waved as they pulled away.
    Greg turned down their street and up the