Uncharted Territory by Betsy Ashton

Author:Betsy Ashton
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781633930520
Publisher: Koehler Books
Published: 2015-01-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Mississippi, week of October 31

A week after the picnic, Emilie sought me out for another almost-midnight talk. “Have you ever felt out of place?”

Where the heck had that come from? The question had multiple layers. “Often. How about you?”

What a stupid question. The expression on her face was a pronounced “du-uh.”

“I can’t imagine you not fitting in ever.”

I smiled and told her about my first visit to Davies Enterprises’ boardroom after Reggie died. Awkward was an understatement. One board member didn’t recognize me. He told me to fetch coffee for the group. I did. When it was time for the meeting to begin, I sat at the head of the table. The man who mistook me for an administrative assistant didn’t have time to feel out of place. He resigned from the board a day later. I neither knew nor cared about his reason.

“If I said I was never uncomfortable, I would either be super human or super stupid. Remember, the girl who grew up on a farm outside Richmond is the head of an international company. It makes for uncomfortable moments.”

“I thought you were raised in a suburb like Riverbend.”

“I lived in an old farmhouse down the road from my grandmother and across from your aunt and uncle. About as far away from your old suburb as possible.”

My family had farmed a plot of land since the mid-1750s. Although the original farm had shrunk to a couple hundred acres, we had a working enterprise with milk cows, beef cattle, and a clucking-good egg business.

“Your uncle Carl runs the place. He and my brother Sam own it together.”

“Why not you? Don’t you have part of it?” Emilie didn’t know anything about grandparents’ generation or how property might be divided.

“No. When I married, I agreed to give up any interest in the farm. Seemed fitting since I moved away and set up life with your grandfather. My brother Dan made a career in the marines. He gave up his interest as well.”

Emilie smiled. “Yes, it was fitting.”

The current house was built in the 1840s. Never a Gone with the Wind plantation, the two-story brick dwelling had been remodeled and expanded over the years. The bones of the house were unbroken, though; dependencies grew outward like wings from the original foursquare structure.

“I was often the pickee from the snobby in-crowd.”

“But you’re rich.” Emilie protested.

“Now. Not then. I remarried well. It was rather a giggle, you know. Grandfather Frank’s mother taught me how to behave in society in Richmond. Confused the heck out of a lot of people who remembered me from high school.”

Time to get back to why Emilie asked the question in the first place. “Now what has prompted this midnight chat, dear child?”

“I don’t feel right around Marianna. She’s afraid of men.”

I moved over on the couch to let Emilie snuggle close. “At the picnic she had fun with Charlie and Alex until they began playing volleyball. She fled to the blanket near her mother. She didn’t say anything to Dad except ‘thank you’ when he handed her a hot dog.

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