The Other Side - J. D. Robb [140]
“Well, it’s not a moniker I’ll forget anytime soon.”
She simply nodded, simpered, and followed her aunt into the house.
“Mother, how could you?” she asked before the door was closed completely. “Is nothing sacred to you? Telling family secrets to perfect strangers . . . Who else have you told?”
“Oh posh, your name is not a family secret, darling.” She waved diamond-encrusted fingers in the air. “It comes from the Latin Mabel, meaning lovable, as both your father and I believed you to be the moment we laid eyes on you.” She threw her arms out wide. “And you filled us with such joy. What else could we name you but Maribelle Joy?”
“Jane, Susan, Linda . . . Mabel?”
Her mother laughed. Even Imogene and Odelia wore indulgent smiles.
“You would have hated Mabel much more than Maribelle, darling, trust me. Besides, you looked like a Maribelle Joy as a child. A little fairy named Maribelle Joy, with your soft brown curls and your big green eyes and you were so perfect . . . everything was so perfect. It was the happiest time of my life. Just you, me, and your daddy.”
Adeline sighed contentedly, and a look of happiness and . . . peace settled in the fine slopes and planes of a face that had always been beautiful and animated but now radiated with an inner glow and verve M.J. couldn’t recall seeing before.
“But then Daddy died in the accident, and I could never quite live up to your expectations, could I? Instead of the perky, cheerleader-type daughter you wanted, you got a shy, awkward math nerd.”
“I just wanted you to have some fun, darling.”
“You paid my stepbrother to take me to my prom.”
“He told you?”
“I guessed, and you just confirmed.”
“Ow. She gotcha,” Odelia muttered as she sorted out bruised apples.
“That’s not fair.” Adeline looked indignant. “And it would have been wrong to miss your own prom, sweetheart.”
“It’s more wrong to meddle in my life simply because it doesn’t meet with your standards, Mother.” Also, Adeline hadn’t denied M.J.’s original statement—that she’d never once lived up to her mother’s expectations. Despite the fact that she’d known this for most of her life, it hurt. A lot. “I have a headache. I’m going for a walk.”
She could hear the sisters chattering as she snatched up her purse and left through the front door.
She walked down the hill into the town of Johnnie’s Bend, noting how far up the hill the town had spread in the past few years. Hedbo Street, named after the man and the house, had been rezoned for commercial use and was now an oddly appealing mix of older homes and new businesses of every kind.
She didn’t expect to recognize anyone; she hadn’t lived in Johnnie’s Bend for years and hadn’t attended school there as a child for more than a few months or a single academic year between her mother’s marriages. So it was a surprise to her when halfway through the club sandwich she ordered at King’s Café, she heard her name ring out loud and clear.
“Maribelle Joy!”
She flinched and began to slide deeper into the shadow of her booth before she saw who was calling her and decided to stand her ground. She shook her head at Ryan Doyle, refusing to answer to that name, and picked up another triangle of the first food she’d eaten all day—it was going a long way to curing her headache.
He waved and patted the shoulders of other people he knew as he made his way across the room to her table. With laughter still ringing in his voice, he tried to cajole her.
“Ah, come on, don’t be mad. It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Tell you what—we came in for hot fudge sundaes. Let us buy you one.”
“We?”
“My son, Jimmy.” He half turned and, sure enough, standing behind him was a small boy with shaggy black hair and wide, almond-shaped brown eyes that looked much too clever and much too old to belong to someone his age. He had on