Spring Fever by Mary Kay Andrews

Author:Mary Kay Andrews
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-06-04T22:00:00+00:00

25

Mason felt his neck and shoulder muscles tighten as soon as he drove through the wrought-iron gates at Cherry Hill. The smell of freshly mown grass wafted through the open windows of his car, and small birds and large yellow butterflies hovered over the splashy ribbons of pink, white, and purple azaleas that lined the long drive, but he was too distracted to enjoy the sights of a beautiful spring day.

The message Sallie had left on his phone was brief and succinct. “Son, I need to see you this morning. I’ll be at home until noon.”

He massaged his temples with his fingertips. His mother’s agenda could have any number of unpleasant items.

Mason parked his car and trudged slowly up the front steps of the Greek Revival house. The white paint gleamed in the sunshine. He paused at the front door. Normally, he just walked inside and announced himself. After all, this was his family home. He’d lived here right up until shortly before he and Annajane married and had moved back here, briefly, after their split. But somehow, today felt different. He was poised to ring the doorbell when the door opened and his mother greeted him, her voice decidedly cool.

“Since when do you ring the doorbell here?” she demanded, offering her cheek to be kissed.

He kissed her lightly, inhaling the familiar scents, hairspray, Chanel Number Five, and yes, cigarettes with an after-note of cinnamon-flavored chewing gum. His mother had been a closet smoker for as long as he could remember. You’d walk into a room at the house, and there she’d be, guiltily fanning the smoke out opened windows or spritzing the air with room freshener.

He followed her into the high-ceilinged entry hall, and her heels clicked on the black-and-white marble-tiled floor. “You look nice,” he said, hoping to establish détente. Her hair had been freshly done and she wore a yellow silk pantsuit and a gleaming gold-link necklace and matching earrings.

“I had altar guild this morning,” she said, leading him into the study. She sat down behind the dainty walnut French provincial desk she’d installed there in the place of his father’s massive oak desk. “And I can tell you it wasn’t a very pleasant experience, walking into a room full of buzzing women, all of whom fell silent the moment I entered. And what do you suppose they were talking about?”

Mason stayed standing. “Is that why you asked me over here? Because of a bunch of gossipy old biddies?” He turned and headed for the door. “You’ll have to excuse me, Mama. I’ve got a business to run.”

“I’d like you to stay,” Sallie said. Her voice was steady. She seldom raised it, because she seldom had to. All her life, Sallie Bayless had been a force with which to reckon.

He slouched down into the pale blue damask wing chair facing the desk and instantly felt like a schoolboy called into the principal’s office.

His mother fidgeted with a pen on the desktop, rolling it back and forth beneath her fingertips.

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