Mrs. Whelan’s words hurt the most. “Alex can do better.” She knew Mrs. Whelan’s words were only meant for her friend, but the reality of the situation struck Jorden hard.

Alex called up to Jorden, “Looks like the tire is okay—they all seem fine.”

Jorden wiped the tears away with a determined swipe before she scurried back down the steps.

Alex looked toward Jorden. “What were you doing in the bushes? Are you all right?” He seemed to notice a difference in Jorden.

“I’m fine. I lost my footing and slipped off the top step. I heard voices and looked to see where they were coming from.” She could never tell him what she just heard—at least not now.

“Come on! Let’s go in.” The aroma of the Cornish hens filled their noses as they entered the kitchen.

“There you are,” Alex’s mother said. “Come in, Sarah’s here.”

Margo introduced Jorden to Sarah. Jorden tried to make small talk, doing her best to conceal her anguish. Jorden couldn’t stop Margo’s words from running through her mind and tearing her apart. She couldn’t look at Alex’s mother.

After a half hour, Sarah excused herself. “I’ve got to run. I promised my daughter I’d pick Jeremy up at five thirty. It was nice to meet you, Jorden. I’m glad you’ll be joining this family.”

“Thank you.” Jorden wanted to hug Sarah; if only, Alex’s mother felt the same as her friend. At least Jorden knew where his parents stood. Alex would be gone for months—time was on her side. She wouldn’t give up!

Soon after, Sarah left. Alex and Jorden made their way upstairs to change for dinner.

As Alex turned to head up to the third floor, he stopped. “Oh, Scot and Carrie will probably get here around six.”

Jorden kept her head down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be. They’re just family.”

Chapter 41: January, 1970

Chapter 41

January, 1970

The plane flew to Los Angeles as did Jorden’s memories of Saturday evening. She couldn’t get the tightness in her stomach to ease up.

***

Previous Year – Saturday evening, Albany, May17, 1969

“Just family,” Jorden mumbled. She stood at the threshold of the guestroom. The name fit. She was a guest—not family. Now she had an inkling of what she had to face. Mrs. Whelan said it plain as day to her friend. Jorden doubted whether Alex’s mother or father would ever accept her. She loved Alex and wanted the marriage to work despite their differences. Maybe after a year his family would come around and see her in a different light. She was going to do her best to turn them around.

A knock at the door startled her. “I’m on my way down.”

“Thanks, Alex, I’ll be right there.”