well, but Dinah knew she’d hurt her. It had always driven her crazy that Dinah showed no interest in any of her favorite civic or historical preservation projects.
“Okay, then, I’m off,” her mother said. “Will you be here for dinner?” “Of course,” Dinah said. “If that changes, I’ll call or leave word with Maybelle.”
“I’ll see you later, then.”
When her mother left, the sound of her heels tapping on the hardwood floors, the scent of Chanel lingered in her wake. Dinah felt the tension in her shoulders ease the minute she was finally alone.
Coming home had been harder—and easier—than she’d expected. She’d been welcomed like the prodigal daughter, pampered by their longtime housekeeper, and treated like a celebrity by her family’s friends.
The hard part was lying and keeping the pretense that she was just fine, that her career was perfect, her life amazing. She kept it up because she wasn’t ready to admit the truth, not to them, not even to herself.
Some days she could convince herself that she was fine. As if her body sensed that she was in a safe haven at last, she hadn’t had a major panic attack since she’d arrived. The nightmares had even diminished. She’d only awakened a couple of times in a cold sweat with her heart hammering so hard she’d felt it might burst from her chest.
She’d managed to accommodate her parents’ meet-and-greet dinners as well as the thankfully brief lunches at her father’s club. Increasingly, though, the mere prospect of leaving the house had made her palms turn damp. Although she’d been able to face the possibility of a roadside ambush or a car bomb a mere week ago, she now could barely stand the thought of walking down the comparatively safe, familiar streets of Charleston. She knew that hiding out wasn’t smart, or healthy. Nor was it one bit like her. Always full of energy, Dinah was determined to recapture some of her old spirit.
She decided to start by looking for Bobby. It would be good to see him, catch up a little, figure out if there was a single spark that could be fanned into a conflagration that might help her forget what she would have to give up to stay here.
She gathered up her dishes and took them to the kitchen.
Maybelle Jenkins, who’d run the Davis household Dinah’s entire life and her mother’s family’s before that, immediately rushed to take them from her. “What do you think you’re doing?” she scolded. “You trying to get me fired? Tidying up is what I do around here.”
Dinah grinned at her. “We both know you do a whole lot more than that. You keep this place running. You hold this family together.”
Maybelle swept her into a hug, one of many she’d readily dispensed since Dinah’s homecoming. “Lordy, but I’ve missed you. You’ve been away too long, girl. It’s about time you came back to see us. Some of us, we ain’t getting any younger, you know.”
Though she looked ageless with her smooth brown complexion, Maybelle had to be at least seventy-five. She’d been almost twenty when she’d gone to work for Adelaide Rawlings when Dinah’s mother was born. That was fifty-five years ago.
Dinah grinned at her now. “Who’re you kidding, Maybelle? You’ll outlive all of us.”
“Especially if you keep getting in the way of them guns and bombs,” the housekeeper chided. “That close call you had ‘bout gave me a heart attack. Never saw the sense of you doing such a thing. Thought we raised you to be smarter.”
Dinah met the dark brown eyes of the woman who’d been such a constant in her life. A sudden need to unburden herself nearly overwhelmed her. Maybelle had always patiently listened to every one of her childhood hopes, dreams and heartaches.
“Can I tell you something you can’t repeat to anyone? “ Dinah asked.
“You askin’ if I can keep a secret? I’ve kept enough for you and that brother of yours, don’t you think?”
Dinah laughed. “Yes, I suppose you have.”
“So what’s one more?”
“I might not go back,” Dinah said, testing the words.
“Well, praise the Lord and hallelujah!” Maybelle said exuberantly. “That’s the best news I’ve had in years. Why you want to keep such a thing a secret?”
Dinah regarded her sadly. “Is it good news?”
“If it means my baby’s gonna be safe, then it’s good news to me.” She gave Dinah a penetrating look. “You don’t seem too happy about it, though. You quit or get yourself fired?”
“I quit, but no one around here’s to know that. I don’t expect you to lie for me, but hem and haw if anyone asks, at least for now.” She gave Maybelle a stern look. “Promise?”
“I gave you my word, didn’t I?” She hugged Dinah again. “Whatever’s going on with you, you’ll work it out. I know how you like to mull things over in that head of yours. But if there comes a time when you need someone to talk to, I’m here, same as always.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
“And I love you, same as all those children I gave birth to, and those grandbabies and great-grandbabies that are coming along,” Maybelle told her. “You’re family to me.”
Tears welled up in Dinah’s eyes. She swiped at them impatiently. “Now you’ve gone and made me cry,” she teased. “I’ll have to redo my makeup before I go out in public or Mother will be totally humiliated.”
“Since when you put on makeup?” Maybelle asked wryly. “Your mama cares way too much about stuff that don’t matter a hoot to anybody but her and those social-climbing women she spends her days with.” At Dinah’s amused look, Maybelle added, “And don’t think I wouldn’t say the same thing right to her face. I knew her when she was in diapers, too.”
“Ah, Maybelle, you keep telling us like it is. Maybe one of these days we’ll all get our priorities sorted out.”
Maybelle laughed. “You, maybe, but I think it’s too late for that brother of yours. He’s fallen into the same pattern as your daddy. They’re both so full of themselves it’s little wonder they can never see eye to eye on anything.” She shooed Dinah toward the door. “Now get along out of here, girl. You might be unemployed, but I’m not. This old house doesn’t clean itself and it takes me a mite longer to get around than it used to.”
Dinah wandered upstairs, intending to freshen up and change her clothes before heading out in search of Bobby, but she found an old high-school yearbook and got distracted.
By the time she’d closed the book, it was past lunchtime. Still wearing the same old shorts and halter top, she added a pair of sandals, ran a brush through her hair, then begged a sandwich from Maybelle. It was nearly four o’clock when she finally set off to look for Bobby. Maybe once she saw him, some magical something would click and she’d know whether or not she was home to stay. In her experience, though, life was rarely that clear-cut.
All during the tedious meetings at Covington Plantation, Dorothy had been distracted. She couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was going on with her daughter. Dinah hadn’t been herself since she’d arrived home.
Her gentle resistance to all the dinner parties was to be expected. She’d always hated that sort of fuss. But isolating herself in the house and only reluctantly talking about her work made Dorothy think that the close call Dinah had minimized months ago might have taken more of a toll than she’d led them to believe.
Since there was never a chance to talk to Marshall about any of this—or anything else—at home, Dorothy made a detour to his office at the bank. Based on the stunned reactions of everyone she greeted there, she concluded it had been far too long since she’d paid her husband an impulsive visit. In fact, there had been little spontaneity in their lives for a very long time. It was just one worrisome aspect of their marriage lately.