Suzanne’s reception of Margot was so cool, it jolted me back to my senses. “Margot is visiting for a week or so and getting to know the business better,” I said, feeling an odd need to defend her.
“Yes, and I just tagged along today to see what this was like. I’ve never been to a farmers market before.” Margot’s smile remained genuine, her tone friendly. Sticking her hands in her back pockets, she rocked onto the balls of her feet. “I’m excited.”
“How nice,” Suzanne said flatly.
“What about you? Are you here with your mom?” I turned to Margot. “Mrs. Reischling sells homemade jellies and jams and baked goods at these markets sometimes.” Yet another reason I avoided coming to them. She never said as much, but how could she not blame me for everything that had happened? Wasn’t she dying to scream at me? I knew exactly what she’d say: If it weren’t for you, she’d be a doctor right now, probably married to another doctor, living in a nice big house with a baby on the way.
She’d be right about all of it.
“I am here with Mom, and I know she’d love to see you. Come over and say hi?” Suzanne cajoled.
I glanced at Margot. Did she realize who this was? If she did, her face didn’t show it. She was so good at keeping calm, at holding her tongue. I could use a lesson in that. “Maybe later. We need to finish setting up here.”
“OK. Don’t forget, though. We’re still your family, aren’t we?” It almost sounded like an accusation.
“Sure.” I stuck my hands in my pockets, hoping she wouldn’t try to hug me again.
She smiled with Steph’s mouth, and it made my spine stiffen. “See you later, then.” Without another look at Margot, she ambled off.
When she was out of hearing range, I exhaled and dropped into my chair. Picked up my water bottle. Took a long drink.
Margot slowly lowered herself to the edge of her seat. “Steph’s sister?” she asked gently.
“Yeah.”
She nodded. “Thought so. They look alike, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s gotta be tough.”
I shrugged. “Steph was really different than her sister.”
“How so?”
“Different personalities. Different interests.” I looked at her. “And Steph never would have treated you that way.”
Margot’s lips tipped up in a sad smile. “I got the feeling she didn’t like my being here with you.”
“Probably because this is something I used to do with Steph.”
Margot tilted her head side to side. “So her reaction is understandable.”
“Maybe. That doesn’t make it OK, though.” I sighed, closing my eyes for a second. “You know, when Steph was alive, her family never even liked me that much.”
“Really?” Margot sounded shocked. “Why?”
I shrugged. “They felt she could have done a lot better than stick around here and marry me. Fuck, she could have done better. I told her that a million times.” Angrily, I chugged my water again, wishing it was whiskey.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I don’t know why,” I said bitterly. “You’ve seen firsthand what an asshole I can be.”
“Because you’re a good man, Jack. Yes, you get angry and lash out. You get pushed, you push back. And hell yes, I’ve seen you be an asshole.” Her voice softened. “But I’ve also heard you apologize. I’ve seen you treat people and animals with love and kindness. I’ve seen you treat dirt with love and kindness.”
I almost smiled, and she caught me.
“Plus,” she said, leaning over to whisper in my ear. “You’ve got good hands, an amazing tongue, and a big dick. What more could a girl want?”
Reluctantly, I allowed a small grin and shook my head. Did she really believe a big dick made up for everything I couldn’t offer? Margot, of all people? “Uh, stability? Financial security? A nice car? A big house? Expensive jewelry?”
“You told me yourself she didn’t care about those things.”
“But you do.” It came out of nowhere. Why the hell would I compare Steph to Margot? “Fuck. Forget I said that.”
“No, listen.” She put a hand on my leg. “You’re not wrong. I do care about those things. I’ve never lacked for them, or anything else money can buy. But you know what?”
Christ, we are so different. “What?”
“Something is missing from my life.”
I looked at her. “Like what? What could possibly be missing from your life when you have everything you ever wanted? And if you don’t have it, you can go out and get it?”
She rolled her eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but they don’t sell happiness at Bloomingdale’s, Jack. Plenty of wealthy people are miserable and plenty of poor people are content.”
“I guess.”
“Were you and Steph rich?”
I snorted. “No.”
“But you were happy.”
“Yeah, we were. Too happy.”
She cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
Jesus, why had I said that? Working off sexual tension with her was one thing, but I didn’t want to reveal too much of myself. “Nothing.”
“You meant something, Jack. Tell me.”
I exhaled, feeling weight return to my shoulders that hadn’t been there all day. “I just meant that it can’t last, the kind of happiness that we had.”