Sam hung on to his patience, remembering that these men were two generations older than he was. “It’s not that easy to get a woman pregnant today, since they invented contraceptives.”
Sean snorted. “That’s when the world went to hell in a handbasket, all right.”
“And even if I did manage to do as you suggest,” Sam continued, “having a baby no longer means a wedding automatically follows. The rules have changed since any of you got married.”
“I still say if you want to get her to the altar, just get her pregnant,” Phil asserted loudly. “It’s the best thing that could happen to that girl, anyway. It’s unnatural to be nearly thirty and still running around loose.”
These guys talked as if it was the nineteenth century!
Paul Dubay pointed a gnarled finger at Sam. “Your grandfather knew what he was about, by God. You just gotta hold Willamina to that bequest. If’n she’s your wife, she’ll have to support your business, because it’s the law. Wives can’t publicly contradict their husbands.” Paul shrugged one bony shoulder.
“They might even let her start coming to the town meetings again.”
“You’re getting your laws mixed up, Paul.” Avery chuckled. “Wives can’t testify against their husbands. Ain’t no law about them contradicting us in public or private.”
“It don’t matter,” Sean said to Avery. “Paul’s still right about Abram’s will. Sam just has to hold Willamina to it.”
Sam sat back in his chair. How in hell had his grandfather fallen in with these throwbacks? Grammy Rose had had more power than Bram at home, and she damn well hadn’t been shy about using it.
“I still say getting her pregnant would kill two birds with one stone,” Phil said. “Not only will she feel obliged to marry you, but a baby will take some of that fight out of her.”
“I sort of like that fight,” Sam said, leaning his chair on its back two legs. “It keeps things interesting.”
“Uh-oh,” Sean Graves said, picking up his coffee mug. “Here comesDoris . If she hears us talking about this stuff, we’ll get an earful, all right.”
Sam set his chair back on its legs, and the four men suddenly got busy drinking their coffee.
“Morn’n,Doris ,” Sam said, standing up and pulling over a chair from a nearby table for her. “Where’s Mimi this morning? She’s not ill, is she?”
“Her daughter went into labor last night, and she has to babysit the other three for the next few days,”Doris said, smiling at Sam as he helped her out of her coat.
“I see you’ve brought your sketch pad,” he said when she set it down.
“I was up half the night designing our new label,”Doris said excitedly, sitting down and opening her pad.
“That’s why I’m late this morning. I also tried to come up with a list of names for our product.” She opened the pad on the table and turned it toward Sam. “I figure it should be something catchy. This label,” she said, tapping the page with a pink fingernail, “is one we could use if we decide to call them Angel Cakes.”
“Angel Cakes!” Phil sputtered. “Ain’t nothing angelic about lobsters. They’re one of the ugliest creatures God ever created.” He reached over and turned the pad to see for himself. “Why, this isn’t a lobster dressed like an angel, it’s a kid.” He pushed the pad back. “What’s a half-naked, fat little kid got to do with lobster cakes?”
“He’s not a kid, he’s an angel. And if you weren’t so tight with your dollar and would go to the doctor and get stronger glasses, you’d see that he’s eating the lobster cakes.” She flipped to the next page. “Or we could make it look like the cakes themselves are angels. See, I put wings and a halo on this one.” She smiled at Sam expectantly. “What do you think of my ideas?”
Sam picked up the pad and studied the labels, flipping to the first page and then back to the second. His first thought was that he was going to have to apologize to Willa. He could see now how her seniors had completely usurped her authority, since his own little gang had certainly taken over his idea to open a business.
Yesterday morning, on the way to the warehouse he hoped to buy, he’d found out that Sean Graves had already negotiated the price with Avery Ingall the night before, over beers at Avery’s home. Sean probably got the property for a lot less than Sam would have, but he’d been looking forward to going up against one of these Yankee traders.
Then, yesterday afternoon at the auto dealership, Phil Grindle had grabbed Sam by the arm and dragged him away—twice—from the deal he was being offered. Who knew there was so much negotiating room in the price of an automobile?
Apparently, Phil did.
Just how was he supposed to tell an eighty-year-old grandmother he really wasn’t all that enamored with angels?
“Sam. Sam!” Phil said, his voice rising along with the force of the smacks he was giving Sam’s arm.
“Willamina’s out there pacing back and forth. If you don’t want to spend the day bailing her out of jail, you better get out there before she works up the nerve to come in looking for you.”
“Oh, heavens.”Doris gasped. “She’s not allowed in here, Sam. If she steps one foot inside that door, it’ll cost her seven hundred and forty-three dollars.”
“And sixty-four cents,” Phil added.
Sam tore his gaze from Willa, who had stopped pacing and was now eyeing the door handle. “Why?”
“She broke a few things last time she was here,”Doris said, pushing Sam to his feet. “The owner said he wouldn’t press charges and she wouldn’t have to pay for damages if she promised never to come in here again.”
Sam headed for the front door but stopped when he saw Barry Cobb reach around Willa and open the door for her. The man then placed his hand on her back and ushered her inside, completely ignoring her protests.
Sam heard several gasps behind him, and all conversation suddenly stopped. Barry Cobb spotted Sam, and he grabbed Willa by the wrist as she tried to scurry around him and dragged her toward an empty table in the front window.
Sam walked back to his gaping seniors.
“You just gonna let her sit there with that gangster?” Phil asked in disbelief when Sam sat back down. Sam didn’t know who had started the rumor that Barry Cobb might be tied in with the mob. He picked up his cup of coffee, took a sip, then smiled at his table mates. “I’m curious to see what might happen,”
he said, glancing toward Willa’s table.
She was standing now, darting glances toward the back of the diner, then whispering something to Cobb. Cobb still had hold of her wrist, trying to get her to sit back down.
“Here comes trouble,” Avery said, and Sam followed his gaze toward the kitchen. Trouble appeared to be a rather large man wearing a tight white T-shirt and a dingy white apron, standing in the kitchen door, glaring at Willa. Sam took another sip of his coffee, noticing that every last person in the diner had gone silent except for Barry Cobb.
“Oh, come on, Willa,” Cobb scoffed, holding her wrist. “They can’t stop you from coming in here; this is a public diner.” He leaned forward, still not realizing he had an audience. “Will you relax? I’m glad I ran into you this morning. I want to ask if you’ll go to the dance at the high school with me tonight. We could have dinner in Ellsworth first, if you’d like.” He smiled. “I’ll even buy you a corsage. What color dress will you be wearing?”
Sam smiled. Whatever the color, it would definitely be wrinkled.
“Willamina Kent !” a gruff, challenging voice called from the back of the diner. “You’d better have your purse with you!”
Barry Cobb finally shut up. Willa took advantage of his being distracted by the man walking toward them and jumped to her feet to dash for the door.