With a heavy thud, Jeannette dropped to her knees before Blanche. "Blanche, please—don't let Mrs. Brown send me away," she pleaded, her voice trembling.
The rear window of the car slid down, and Healy poked his head out. "Mom, why did you say bad things about Miss Jean in front of Grandma?" His words stung—he was accusing her.
Blanche's gaze fell on Jeannette, kneeling in the muddy driveway, looking as delicate and pitiful as a little white blossom battered by the rain.
This was exactly why Blanche had brought Healy here today—to drive a wedge between him and his mother.
"Healy, don't yell at your mom. She would never say a bad word about anyone," Eddy's voice cut in, protective as always. Blanche met his deep, tender eyes.
If she hadn't known the truth, she might have been moved by that look. Now, it just seemed laughable.
"If Mom didn't say anything, then why does Grandma want to fire Miss Jean? It must have been you, Mom!" Healy refused to believe otherwise. He scrambled out of the car, helping Jeannette to her feet. "Miss Jean, come on—stand up, your jeans are soaked."
Blanche watched as Healy fussed over Jeannette's wet clothes, not sparing a glance for his own mother, who stood shivering, rain-soaked and chilled to the bone.
Something twisted painfully inside her.
Jeannette bit her lip as if holding back tears, but the glint in her eyes and the smug tilt of her mouth betrayed her.
"Healy, I'm fine. As long as Blanche doesn't send me away, I'll stay on my knees as long as it takes."
Blanche forced patience into her voice. "Healy, how many times have I told you? You shouldn't accuse people without proof."
Healy's mouth quivered. "Then tell Grandma not to fire Miss Jean and I'll believe you."
Miss Jean was so good, even Dad liked her. Besides Mom, who else would have complained about Miss Jean?
Blanche could hardly believe her own son could make such a demand of her—all for Jeannette's sake.
She'd spoiled him too much, let him believe a mother's love meant he could do anything he pleased.
"Healy, no one can change your grandma's decision. You can't make unreasonable demands on your mother like this," Eddy chimed in, sounding as if he supported Blanche, but really giving Healy yet another idea.
"Then I'll go ask Grandma myself! Dad, let's go, let's hurry back to the house!" Healy grabbed Jeannette's hand and tugged her into the back seat, Jeannette only pretending to resist.
Blanche watched the two of them together—her son and Jeannette, as close as if they were mother and child. She kept telling herself she'd be leaving soon, that none of this would matter, but she couldn't quiet the ache in her chest.
She was jolted from her thoughts by the touch of warm fingers on her frozen hand. Eddy's voice was gentle. "Don't take what Healy says to heart. It's just a small thing, not worth your worry. Once my mother lets Jeannette go, everything will go back to the way it was."
Back to the way it was?
That was impossible.
"My mother just called. She wants us to come home right away."
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