A/N: I was going to have Skye's POV take it all the way to the end, because it really is easier for me to write, butttt I really, really, really wanted to be able to include the second half of this chapter in the story, so Jeffrey gets to finish it out
Jeffrey had hoped for a better morning. His parents' bickering hadn't put him in the greatest mood, and to add insult to injury, Skye had something to share that she obviously wasn't happy about. He didn't know what it could be, but he had a feeling he wasn't going to be happy about it either. She kept casting him apprehensive glances as they made their way to the house.
Skye turned into the first private room she found. Jeffrey closed the door behind them, and she settled into an armchair.
"Okay, here's the thing—" Skye dropped off with a heavy sigh and crossed her legs underneath her. "Are you going to sit?"
"Sure." Jeffrey took the chair across from her, only because she seemed to want him to.
Skye leaned back and held onto her knees. "Remember the other night, when you came outside because you saw me arguing with your mom?"
"Uh huh." It had kept him up for hours, thinking about how Skye had repeatedly put her hands on him, how much he'd liked it, and how poor of a friend he was because he had. It was almost funny now. If only he'd known that come morning, she would put more than her hands on him.
He was so used to wrestling his attraction to her. It wasn't as easy to break the habit as he'd thought it would be. More than once, in a room full of people, he had forgotten not to reprimand himself for noticing how good she looked when she laughed. It was a reflex, but it never took him long to remember he was allowed to think those things now. Actually, it was okay for him to think about how good she looked unclothed too. That one really knocked him sideways. He'd spent an awful lot of time reliving it.
Since it wasn't appropriate for him to do any of that reliving now, he didn't. Too bad. He preferred the fun parts of starting a relationship with her, instead of the complications. Complications were inevitable, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy them.
"I didn't tell you everything," said Skye. "I made it seem like she'd come to talk about my wedding – and I guess that wasn't a lie, but really, she came to talk about you."
"Alright," Jeffrey said slowly. She was making him uneasy, referring to half-truths.
"You're not going to like it," she warned.
"Alright." He lay his ankle over his knee and bounced his foot in the air.
Skye took a deep, preparatory breath and came out with it. "She told me that I couldn't get married at Arundel because you're in love with me. She said she wouldn't let me hurt you like that at your own house."
At first, Jeffrey didn't feel anything. Then, a slow rising heat to his face and the squeeze of an invisible strap around his chest.
"She told you that I love you?" he said quietly, not because he needed clarification, but because he wanted to hear it said again.
"Yes. She did."
Jeffrey broke eye contact with Skye and shook his head at nothing. All of his effort to hide that – to keep Skye from feeling that she had to choose between him and Dušek – and he'd been fucking outed by his mother.
"And that's when…" He spoke hesitantly, needing the extra time to process and to remember what Skye had already told him. "She said she'd disinherit me if you didn't relocate. Is that right?"
"Yes," said Skye. "But she also said she'd do that if I didn't tell you that I didn't want to be friends anymore. She said I was preventing you from moving on. 'Get out of his life, or else' – that's about it."
Jeffrey stood up.
"Jeffrey, I'm sor—"
He waved his hand and Skye quieted. She didn't need to be sorry. She hadn't done anything wrong, though this whole story was chock-full of wrong. He walked to the window and rested his arm against its frame, staring out into the gardens.
"So what you're telling me is you were manipulated into all of this," he said after a long period of utter silence.
"No," said Skye.
"But that's the truth." Jeffrey sighed, and the window fogged with his breath. He turned to Skye. She was wringing her hands. "Is this what you really want? Am I?"
"I told you that."
Jeffrey thumbed the ring on his index finger. "You didn't think so before."
She fidgeted in her seat. "I didn't even think about it before."
He felt restless. His muscles were tight, his confidence shaken. Obviously Skye had acted impulsively, but he had thought it had been because of him, somehow. Hearing it wasn't –that changed things. Made them less certain. Skye's choice had been driven by panic, and panic bred oversight better than it bred perception.
"You shouldn't listen to my mom," he said. "She pretends she has control over stuff that she actually can't do a thing about."
"I know." Skye watched him so carefully, like she was worried he might take off, or maybe, lash out.
"You didn't," Jeffrey said softly. He chewed on his lip. "If I say— if I promise that she can take all the money away and I won't care…" He paused. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say. He would care if he was disinherited (who wouldn't?), but he wouldn't care that much. "I would have gladly lost all of it if it meant you'd be happy. Does that…change anything?"
Skye's shoulders drooped. "Of course not."
"You could have married Dušek and still kept me around, Skye. I would have told you to, if you'd asked me."
"No," Skye whispered. She cleared her throat so that she could give more life to her voice. "I couldn't have."
He knew that. Deep down, he had always known. It was what had made her approaching wedding so difficult for him. He hadn't been ready for that final goodbye, to give up their few but lengthy phone calls, to admit that he was only pretending to be her friend. The distance he'd forged between them hadn't been enough. He would love Skye Penderwick however long he knew her. There would have been no room for that problem inside of her marriage. The only solution would have been to stop knowing her at all.
"You're right," he mumbled. "You couldn't have."
"But does that matter? I didn't marry him."
"It seems like it does." Why didn't you, really? was the question Jeffrey nearly asked.
"How come?" said Skye.
Because he couldn't shake it – the doubt. Skye had been presented with two options: give up her marriage, or give up him. She'd decided that he was what she couldn't part with, and while that was flattering in its own right, he didn't see how she could completely know what she wanted. She knew what she didn't want – to lose him for good – but she might not really want him as she had him now. It was an easy trap to fall into, to learn that somebody loves you and wonder what it might be like to let them. You might think for a while that you feel the same, until time dulls the intrigue of new. That was when people realized it wasn't love they'd been feeling, but an appreciation for being appreciated. It was natural, and not uncommon. Especially, Jeffrey thought, when such new appreciation comes from someone you've known for a very long time.
He wasn't absolutely convinced that would happen with Skye, but he also wasn't a besotted fool. She hadn't given the news real thought before she had acted. She hadn't had time. That meant she could change her mind. She could realize she'd acted wrong. She had been with Dušek for years. She'd been with him for one day.
Should he admit those worries to her? She had admitted that she had some questions about Batty. That probably hadn't been easy, and he'd laughed at her. Was this like that?
He didn't think so. Actually, he knew it wasn't. This was a big fucking deal – even if she laughed at him.
"What do you want to know?" Skye pressed, because he'd been too busy thinking about the answer to her question to actually give her one. "What can I tell you?"
He was quiet for a moment longer, not thinking about anything anymore, just hesitating. He laughed with little humor, and that laugh fell into a sigh. "If you had gotten married, we'd be done. Is that the real reason you called it off?"
He had other questions too, questions he didn't say out loud. Are you only with me now because that is the only way I can stay? Because you know I can't be your friend? Because I tried and I failed, and you just don't want to lose me?
"No," said Skye. "Don't be stupid."
"I'm not."
"Yes." Skye got out of her seat and came toward him. "You are."
"You weren't supposed to know how I feel." Jeffrey swallowed, hoping to dispel his uncertainty, but it stayed put. "I didn't want to get in your way."
If that was what he had done, he preferred to learn that now. His short time with Skye had already confirmed that every dream he'd had about her had been well placed. After one day, he had already moved on from those dreams – visions of kissing and sex and hearing her say that she loved him – and he'd started to picture an actual future. If she wouldn't want one, he needed to know. They needed to stop what they'd barely started before he got carried away. That had to be his fundamental flaw: getting ahead of himself until he was tied up in wants but can't haves.
Skye grabbed his shoulders and thrust his back against the wall. Before he'd recovered from surprise, she was kissing him, deliberately avid, pressing her body in close.
He kissed her back for a while, before he remembered that if he let her distract him, he would never get a fair answer. "Skye—"
"Shut up." She held tight to his face and kissed him again.
This time, he stopped her. He put a hand on her wrist, twisted his face away from her mouth. "No."
She looked wounded. She dropped her hands, her shallow sigh dancing over his skin. "Okay," she whispered.
Jeffrey folded his arms, then unfolded them just as fast. "In high school, when I kept saying I wanted to be your boyfriend, and you kept saying you didn't want that – do you remember what you said to me?"
"It's not important."
"You said don't make me choose – don't make me choose between dating and being strangers. I listened to that, Skye. It was the first time I actually understood what I was doing to you, and I told myself – I swore I would never do that again."
"You didn't," Skye softly reminded him.
"No, she did it for me!"
"Do you think I felt trapped? Like I didn't even have a choice?" Skye asked.
"I don't know."
"That is so fucking far off base, Jeffrey Tifton." She laughed out a single breath of air and shook her head. "I had a choice. I chose you."
Jeffrey wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Because she gave you an ultimatum. She made you choose between dating or being strangers, which is exactly what you didn't want."
"No, stop," said Skye. "It's not that simple."
"I can't do this if you have doubts. You'd torture me." It was hard for him to look at her. To be so honest. "I think I'd let you, so please – just don't."
She turned red.
"Please," he repeated in a whisper.
"I don't have doubts."
"Skye, last night—"
"Last night I freaked out!" Based on the way Skye's voice trembled and rose, she was close to doing so again. "I was upset, and that was bad enough, but then you were looking at me like I'd break your heart next, and I freaked out! That's what you saw. I wasn't doubting, I wasn't wishing I could take it all back – I got scared, because I hated what you were thinking, how you were looking at me." She swallowed hard and straightened her back. She blinked at him, set her jaw. "It's how you're looking at me now."
So Jeffrey looked the other way, so she wouldn't have to see his unrest.
"I'm horrified by what I did to Dušek, and I can never set it right. I won't see him again. Ever. It's hard. I had to cry about it. I couldn't help it. I tried – I couldn't," she rambled. She smiled, transmitting pain and apology. "You said that was okay."
Jeffrey opened his mouth. He scanned the room and dragged his hands down his face. Now he felt like shit. "It is."
"Then, what is the problem?" She was pleading with him. "Tell me."
He looked at her only a second, then sighed and lowered his gaze to the floor. Her beseeching stare could cripple him if he held it too long. "You changed your life for me, and you didn't have enough time to think about if you should. That wasn't fair."
"No, but—"
"But it's not fair for me to have this – you – if it's not real. I gave up on you, Skye. I was ready to go to your wedding and be happy for you. I'm not ready to just test things out, to see if maybe this ends up being worth throwing your marriage away for. I can't." He was pleading with her, too. "If that's what we're doing, then say that. We'll stop. We can get through it – I can get through it. But if we do this, and you regret it one day, if you…resent me for what you lost…" He shook his head. "I won't get through that."
"I know this is right. It feels more right than anything I've ever—"
"If my mom hadn't—"
"Fuck your mom, Jeffrey!" Skye blurted.
"No thanks, that's illegal." He didn't know why he'd said that, why he hadn't stopped the stupid middle school joke from leaving his mouth during a conversation as heavy as this one.
It was met with silence. They were both surprised. Then Skye started to laugh, shaking her head. "So dumb."
"I know," said Jeffrey, laughing softly, still not sure where it had come from.
But it helped. The tension left; their short laughter shoved it out, leaving behind a slackened, easier space for them to carry on.
"I meant forget her," said Skye. "She didn't force my hand. She didn't twist my arm. She woke me up."
Her eyes were fierce and stubborn. He knew that look – her 'don't argue with me' look. Okay, then. No arguing. He drew her back in and kissed her with the same desperate need she had him. He closed his arms around the small of her back and lifted her onto her toes. She sucked in a startled gasp, and he smiled against her mouth. He felt like he'd been lost at sea, and he'd given up hope of finding his way. Yesterday, he had caught his first glimpse of land. Just now, he reached the beach. Skye grounded him, the stranded sailor, home free. So long he'd been adrift, he needed to bask in the sand, for fear it would give out under his feet.
"I know you've loved me for a while, and you can say you knew you did the whole time – which I can't," Skye said as he guided her backwards. "But you don't get to hold that over my head."
Jeffrey dropped her into an armchair, and she fell into it without complaint.
"I don't care how long you've wanted this," said Skye. "That doesn't mean you want it more than I do."
"Okay." He rested his knee on the seat of the chair as he leaned over her. She closed her fist around the chain dangling from his neck, bringing him down to her with a swift and purposeful yank. He laughed gently and put his hands in her hair, pushing her head into the chair's backrest as their tongues met inside her mouth. He loved it when she did things like that – demanded his attention, his touch and his lips. It made him feel wanted. He had ached to be wanted by her. He still did.
"Let me—" Skye mumbled, and she laughed. It was hard for her to talk, stuck under him as she was. "Let me say something."
Jeffrey kissed her a second longer before pushing off the chair so she could sit straight.
"What you have to understand is that your mother didn't make me do anything," she said. "I mean, obviously I wasn't happy with her, but I walked away from that thinking a lot more about how I wanted her to be right. She said you loved me, and I—" Skye chuckled. "I told her she was insane, but I really, really hoped she wasn't."
"She was insane," said Jeffrey. "Just coincidentally, also right."
He was in for a very long conversation with his mother. There'd probably be some shouting, maybe a few tears (hers, most likely), and he wasn't looking forward to it. She'd finally broken his trust just a little too much. He'd been exploited. That didn't change because he'd gotten lucky.
"Dušek is important to me, and I would have been happy with him. I never doubted that," said Skye. "So don't think I chose you because I thought I had to. I chose you because I learned that I could."
Skye reached for Jeffrey's hand. She used it to pull herself from her chair. She stretched up on her toes and hugged her arms around his neck.
"I didn't know you wanted to be a choice," she whispered into his ear. "And once I knew you did, all my other options left. Just like that, poof. Gone. Teleported to a different dimension." She kissed his face and let him go. "And if you act like I don't know what I'm talking about, I'll kill you."
Jeffrey laughed behind closed lips. His eyes started to burn. He blinked at her, but when the burning got worse instead of better, he glanced away.
"Careful," he said. "You're going to make me cry."
"So what?" said Skye. "Maybe I will too."
He smiled weakly, and looked at her – the only person he'd ever truly wanted, telling him he could have her.
"I'm not the best at affirmation. You know that," she said.
He chuckled. "Yeah."
"I'm going to give it a shot anyway, so bear with me." Skye returned to her chair. She rested her elbow on her knees, her chin on her first, and she watched him. "You're my best friend. I've still been calling you that, by the way, even though we haven't talked much in the past few years, and we never see each other."
"I wanted to," Jeffrey interjected.
"I know," said Skye. "I guess technically I have friends that I'm closer to, but that doesn't make it any different. The best friend title has always been yours. It's so easy for me to be me with you. You complement me. The things that I could be better about, you're good at. I get worked up about stuff more than I should sometimes, you help me settle down. Like, when I get laser focused on something, whether that's some goal or whatever might be making me a total stress case, you can get me to forget about it and relax. I don't like sharing my feelings or my problems, but you bring the truth out of me, just like you did last night. You're patient when I'm impatient, even tempered when I'm not. You make me my best self." She was nervous. He could tell she was. Her voice didn't sound quite normal. "I can't give that up. I could have tried. I considered it, for about a minute. I knew you would listen – walk out of my life if I asked – but I would have chased right after you, so I thought I'd save us both the trouble and let myself love you instead." Skye laughed, like the memory of her internal war wasn't altogether terrible. "If I was put on some island somewhere, where I could only see one person until the day I died, that person would be you, and I'd be alright."
"Skye," said Jeffrey, and that was it – all he could say. He bit down on his tongue to battle back the emotion that speech had saddled him with. His eyes still misted.
"I'm not going to say you make my world spin," said Skye, in reference to his earlier promise to her. "It spins because inside of a nebula, Earth was created when mutual gravity compacted molecular hydrogen and cosmic dust. Space doesn't have the friction necessary to slow the planet down, so inertia keeps it spinning – and absolutely none of that has anything to do with you."
Jeffrey laughed, and Skye smirked proudly.
"But," she said, "You do make my world a much better place to be."
He laughed a second time (it was either that or cry), and he blinked until his head stopped spinning like the planet did. He smiled at Skye with just the side of his mouth. "You won't ever stop impressing me, will you?"
"Never fear. You won't be hearing anything like that from me for a very long time," she said, her ears tinged pink. "That really took it out of me, I hope you know."
"Mm hmm." Jeffrey cleared his throat. "I love you."
She beamed at him and rubbed her hands down her face with a long and vocal sigh. She shook them out, as if by doing so, she could shake away all of his doubt.
"So we're okay?" she asked. "You're not mad?"
"At you?" Jeffrey shook his head. "I've got a few things to say to my mother, though." He checked his pocket for his keys. "Now, I think."
"Oh," said Skye, surprised. "You don't want to wait until the wedding is over?"
"If I wait, it will keep ticking me off." He hadn't been very angry about it, too focused on Skye and what she might or might not want. With that out of the way – yeah, that was what he was: ticked. "I have time to talk to her, so I'll get it over with."
"Then, can I come with you?"
Jeffrey laughed alongside a firm, "No." If he showed up with Skye, he'd probably get outright disowned. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Okay," Skye said with some uncertainty. "Maybe, um, maybe don't be too hard on her."
He stared at her, and a smile crept onto his face – not a happy smile, a perplexed one. "What?"
"Don't give me that look," said Skye. Her smile was more sheepish. "I'm just thinking that I'm not entirely ungrateful that she did say that stuff."
Jeffrey only shook his head and made for the exit. He was plenty grateful too, but not to his mother. Intentions mattered more than outcomes, and her intentions had not been in his favor.
At the door, he stopped and strode back to Skye's chair. He kissed her heavily, and it took some of his anger away. "Thanks for not getting out of my life."
"Never going to happen."
He smiled. "I'll see you later."
He kissed her cheek and left for his car, stewing all the while. Who did his mother think she was? Who did she think hewas? Hers to manage however she saw fit, his opinion be damned?
Jeffrey had lost his temper at his mother only one time: when he had returned from Point Mouette, the summer he'd met his dad. Today would be the second.
In order to get to his car, he had to walk through the gardens, where he had a clear view of the Greek pavilion. Alec was still nearby, so Jeffrey doubled back for a short detour.
"Hey, I've got to talk to Mom real quick, but I won't be gone long," he said, in case people started to wonder where he'd run off to.
"Sounds good."
Alec waved Dyson away from where he'd been sniffing curiously at Batty's microphone cord. Dyson, instead, went for Jeffrey's foot. He collapsed with a happy snort and started licking at his shoe. Jeffrey crouched to offer him his hand instead of his sneaker. He almost didn't ask, but he glanced at Alec and he thought, might as well.
"Dad, are you…" He laughed a little, because it felt almost silly to bring up. "Are you good?"
"If you're asking about the incident with your mother, then yes. I'm fine." Alec readjusted a cable at the back of a speaker and stepped away. He chuckled. "I do know I poked the bear."
"That's one way to put it." Jeffrey scratched Dyson under the chin, thinking that the bear had deserved to be poked. He muttered, "Lucky number seven. Christ."
Alec smirked, but quickly stifled it. "Sorry. Are you mad? You look mad."
"About that, no. About other stuff, maybe."
"Mm." Alec sat on the ground, so Dyson abandoned Jeffrey to jump into his lap. "Want to share?"
Jeffrey didn't think that he did, but then again, he easily could have told him he was fine and left it at that. Since he hadn't, he said, "You know about Skye, right? She told me you do."
"An easy conclusion to draw, yes. I know about Skye."
"I just found out it all happened because Mom told her I love her," said Jeffrey. The words tasted bitter. "And that she'd disinherit me if Skye didn't stop talking to me after she got married."
Alec leaned back on his palms and laughed.
"Don't laugh. It's not funny."
He still laughed, though quietly. "She's getting soft."
"Where'd you get that idea?" Jeffrey ripped up a fistful of grass and tossed it away. "That was a calculated move."
"She told Skye she couldn't talk to you only after she got married?"
"Yeah. I think. I don't know, I wasn't there."
"Soft." Alec confirmed it with a nod. "She was worried about you."
Jeffrey murdered more of his lawn. "No, she saw an opportunity to get rid of Skye like she's always wanted."
"That too," said Alec. "But your mother's not dumb."
Jeffrey scoffed.
"Oh come on. Think about it. She knew there was – let's call it a risk – there was a risk that if she shared how you feel with Skye, this could happen. Skye might like that news, and you could end up with her. Your mom obviously decided that would be the lesser of two evils."
"The greater evil being, what? My broken heart?" Yeah right.
"Mm hmm."
Jeffrey smiled tersely at his father. "You're giving her too much credit. Since when do you do that?"
"My brothers might say I always have."
"You're right. I should call them. They'll tell me what I want to hear."
"But not what you need to. Trust me, alright? She might be unpredictable, but…" Alec reached over and tapped his knuckles on Jeffrey's arm. "She cares about you."
"If you say so." It seemed much more likely that she cared about getting her way, though he didn't know why she thought it even mattered. In the fifteen years he'd been friends with Skye and the rest of the Penderwicks, his mother hadn't seen them since they had rented the cottage. Even if she had seen them, he'd outgrown any potentially appropriate age for her to interfere with his friendships. It wasn't her business anymore. He was simply too old. "Whatever. I'm off to tell her she's bananas."
"You tell me how that goes."
"Terribly, I'm guessing." Jeffrey got to his feet, reluctantly, but he did have to go before time ran out.
Alec stayed seated in the grass. "Are you happy?"
"Yeah." Of course he was. Still a little in shock too, but it was a good kind. He hoped the shock never wore off.
"Good. I've always thought Skye was the right match for you." Alec laughed. "But I didn't know she thought that too."
Jeffrey smiled. "Me neither."
"So who cares what your mother thinks?"
"I don't care what she thinks. I care what she does, and what she did was…" Jeffrey trailed off. There were no words.
"I know, but try to focus on that happiness for me," said Alec. "Your mom will get over herself eventually. She'll have to."
"I am trying, but I keep getting hung up on how controlling she was. If she thinks that was okay, who knows what she might do later? Not just with Skye, but about anything! I don't want her—"
"Jeffrey." Alec pushed Dyson off his lap. He stood up and squeezed Jeffrey's shoulder. "Hear her out, then cast your judgments."
Jeffrey gave him a grudging smile. "You're supposed to tell me that you agree she's problematic."
Alec grinned but shook his head. "Those are the opinions I keep to myself. It's best."
"I know," Jeffrey grumbled. It was the considerate choice, but right now, he wouldn't be all that unappreciative if Alec felt like being somewhat less considerate of his relationship with his mother. One time wouldn't hurt, just to try it out.
He knew Alec had wanted to make him feel better, but for once, his father's advice didn't sit well with him. When he got into his car, he was still angry. It was a steady anger, not the kind that might make him want to kick something or shout. It felt chronic, a condition that couldn't be vented. It didn't grow while he drove to the Robinettes' house, but (though Jeffrey tried his hardest to distract himself with the radio) it didn't ease up any either.
When he parked behind his mother's car in the driveway, he didn't immediately get out. He leaned back in his seat with his hand draped over the steering wheel, and he stared at the expansive home before him. He didn't want to go in. He was tired of confrontation. This had better be the last of it for the day. He'd reached his limit.
Jeffrey yanked his keys from the ignition, took a few deep breaths, and went to the door. Only once he rang the doorbell did he realize that he hadn't thought about what he would say.
The door was opened not by Mrs. Robinette, but by Marlene. Perfect. He'd forgotten she would be around.
"Oh," she said, taken aback. Jeffrey had very carefully steered clear of her in the past week. She gave him a tight smile, probably not all that pleased to see him either. "Jeffrey. Hi."
"Yeah, hi," he said, more shortly than he should have. Marlene was nice – the subject of one of his more recent grievances, but not the grievance herself. He just didn't have the patience for the reminder today.
She stepped back to let him in, and he walked through the entryway to hunt for his mother. Halfway down, he felt a twinge of conscience and turned back.
"Sorry— great to see you. I hope you've been well and all that."
She laughed, somewhat awkwardly, and pushed her hair off her face. "Your mom is in the library."
They, at least, had a mutual understanding about their marriage that would never happen.
"Thanks."
Marlene returned to her seat on the couch. "You seem upset. Trouble?"
Jeffrey nodded. "Little bit."
She winced sympathetically. "Sorry."
"It's fine." He started to go, but again spun back her way. "She just drives me crazy, you know? The threats and the meddling – I can't take it anymore."
"Tell her."
"That never, ever works," Jeffrey muttered.
"Yeah." Marlene's lips lifted in wry amusement. "I know."
She would know. She lived it too, with her own mother, though Jeffrey thought hers was probably more diplomatic than his was. He could handle the nagging; it was the blatant interference that he couldn't stomach.
"Jeffrey! What a nice surprise." Their voices had attracted Mrs. Robinette. She looked between them and hopefully asked, "Are you here to see Marlene?"
"No," said Jeffrey and Marlene together. They shared a look, and he bit back a laugh.
He told Mrs. Robinette that he needed to have a private conversation with his mother, and she graciously led him to her. Mrs. Tifton was on a loveseat with a magazine and a cup of coffee. Jeffrey's temper spiked just looking at her, sitting there unruffled, as if she was completely innocent.
"Mom," he said.
She glanced up and closed her magazine, eyebrows raised. "I didn't expect to see you so soon."
She had left Arundel barely an hour ago.
"I have to talk to you."
"It isn't a good time. Mimi and I are about to head out."
"Now." He sounded mad, and he didn't care. He was mad.
Mrs. Tifton straightened in her seat. She sipped her coffee and eyed him over the mug's rim. "If you insist."
He did insist, and since he didn't want anyone eavesdropping (he knew Mrs. Robinette well enough to be sure she would), he said, "Let's go outside."
Mrs. Tifton set her mug on the coffee table. She slipped on her heels and followed Jeffrey through the library's glass door, out onto the veranda. He sat on the low brick wall and put his hands in his lap. He studied her and said nothing.
"Well, what is it?" she demanded. "And don't think I didn't notice your tone, young man. It was not appreciated."
Jeffrey continued to look at her silently. It was incredible – how well she kept secrets from him. When she raised an impatient hand to spur him on, he said, "I'm waiting for you to tell me what you did."
"I'm not sure what you mean." Her sudden, rigid defensiveness told Jeffrey that she knew precisely what he'd meant.
"I'll give you a minute." He slid his ring up and down his finger and waited.
She didn't hold out long, just enough to maintain the pretense of thinking about it. "I suppose you're referring to the discussion I had with Skye about her wedding."
"Mm hmm." Jeffrey nodded, his lips tight and grim.
Mrs. Tifton lowered herself onto a piece of patio furniture. "Then you must know I did what I could to help you."
"Oh, is that what you were doing?" Jeffrey couldn't stop the sarcasm. She'd moved beyond mere secret keeping. Now she was lying to his face.
"Are you angry with me?" She was incredulous, and she laughed. "Jeffrey, I did you a favor."
"No." His hands began to shake, so he leaned forward on his knees and laced his fingers. "You went behind my back and told Skye what I worked very hard to hide from her, and you fucking did it because you've always wanted her gone."
"Watch your mouth!" She snapped, now quite red. "I am still your mother."
"Why can't you just be that?" Jeffrey burst out, and with that, he was on his feet – the temper he had expected to lose well and truly lost. "Why do you have to get involved? This shit's not normal, Mom! Why can't you just talk to me?"
That was exceedingly rude. He had never spoken to her like that. He was fleetingly guilty, but not as much as he knew he should have been.
"This is ridiculous." Mrs. Tifton pat her hair, as if by calming her flyaways, she could calm the situation. "You have everything you wanted now."
"That's not the point!" Jeffrey lifted his hands halfway to his head, tempted to rip his own hair out. Instead, he gripped tightly at nothing and let them drop. "Seriously— you don't see the problem here?"
If not, she might want to get her eyes checked, and then, her brain. Jeffrey could use a therapist himself right about now.
"I stand by what I did," said Mrs. Tifton. "You were well on your way toward self-destruction, and I—"
"Self-destru— give me the benefit of the doubt, holy shit!" Jeffrey cursed.
Mrs. Tifton crossed her legs and her hands. "I will not have this conversation if you can't be respectful."
"Are you ever going to respect me?" said Jeffrey. "You can't mess with my life like this. It's not your job anymore – I grew up, if you didn't notice."
"You certainly aren't acting like it now."
He opened his mouth, retort ready, but he decided not to share it. He exhaled heavily (perhaps overdramatically) and collapsed back on the brick wall. He drummed his fingers on the edge of his seat. "What were you trying to do?"
"You were about to have your heart broken. I thought, at the very least, that shouldn't happen on your own property," she said, as if it were obvious. "I knew you would be upset, and I wanted to stop you from perpetuating it. That is all a friendship with a married woman, whom you love, would have done."
Jeffrey's jaw pulsed. She spewed bullshit with such talent. "You didn't care. If you did, you would have come to me. It's okay for you to tell me when you're worried, of course it is, but it's not okay for you to go to my friends with threats. That is how I know that you weren't thinking about me. You were thinking about what you wanted, and you wanted to get rid of her."
"Yes," Mrs. Tifton said shortly. "I did."
It probably should have made him angrier, but mostly, Jeffrey felt smug satisfaction. There it was: the truth.
"I have for quite some time, you're right," Mrs. Tifton continued. "But don't you think I could have delivered that same ultimatum long ago? At any point I could have told Skye – all of those Penderwicks, for that matter – that staying in contact with you would result in your disinheritance, but I didn't."
Jeffrey ground his teeth. He was fairly certain that was what his father had been getting at, funnily enough. Maybe he'd tell her. That would really make her squirm.
"It never even occurred to me, because your friends are not for me to be concerned with." She held his eye firmly. "Until I see you getting hurt."
"Doesn't matter." Jeffrey shook his head and bounced his foot on the pavement. "That's not an ultimatum for you to give to anyone but me. Not Jane, not Skye, or anyone else. They care about me, and you're exploiting that. I'm not a weapon. You've used me against my friends twice now. Stop." He folded his arms and took a moment just to stare, pure seriousness and displeasure. Disappointment, he might even call it. "If this is your new trick – if you're going to throw disinheritance around as some means to an end, then I want you to take it all back. Arundel, my second trust fund – you can revoke it. You should, and you should write me off your will." He smiled bitterly and rolled his eyes. "I don't care about money I won't get until you're dead anyway."
Several silent moments passed, then Mrs. Tifton said, "No. I won't do that."
Jeffrey nodded and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Then promise me you won't pull this kind of thing again."
"Fine," she said. "Though frankly, I think you should be thanking me."
"That's what Skye said," Jeffrey mumbled. "Sort of."
Resistant to the idea, she didn't respond.
"Are you happy for me?" he said. "If you really were trying to protect my heart or whatever, then are you happy for me now?"
Mrs. Tifton chose her answer carefully. "I am happy that you weren't hurt."
He tightened his arms over his chest. "But?"
"I know you can choose better."
Jeffrey sighed. So they'd also have to have the conversation his mother had wanted – the one about Skye. "What is better? She's my best friend, I'm crazy about her, and she'll treat me right."
"Really?" Mrs. Tifton retorted. "How long was she with her fiancé?"
Jeffrey worried his bottom lip with his teeth. He knew where she was headed. "Three years."
"Three years, and she threw him out after one conversation with me. A single new opportunity, and—" Mrs. Tifton snapped her fingers. "She was gone."
"That won't happen again."
"You think you're different? You think because you've been friends for so many years, you're special?"
In a manner of speaking, yeah. Jeffrey didn't say it.
"You're not," said Mrs. Tifton. "That wasn't a romantic gesture, dear. I understand that you would like it to be, but it shows lack of character and judgment. It will be a pattern. You're foolish if you think the same won't happen to you."
Jeffrey flushed defensively, on Skye's behalf as well as his own. Leaving Dušek wasn't something she'd taken lightly. Hell, he'd held her on the shower floor while she screamed about it. She had made one mistake. They were all entitled to a few of those.
"I don't want you to get involved with someone who may severely hurt you one day."
"She won't," said Jeffrey. His temper flared up again. "I don't know why you think you can judge her, and I really don't know why you think I'll take relationship advice from you. You've been divorced a billion times."
"Six," Mrs. Tifton corrected sharply. "But at least I can say that I always made it to the altar."
"Hid a baby though," he muttered.
"Jeffrey!"
"What?" he snapped. "You've screwed up plenty of times. Would you say that's what speaks to your character?"
"No." She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Though, perhaps my judgment."
"Exactly!" He'd nearly yelled that at her, so he stopped to collect himself. All yelling would do was make her angry with him, and then they would get nowhere. It was difficult for him not to. "So stop judging Skye. You don't know her well enough for that."
"I don't have to know her in order to see the warning signs here. They're glaring at you, and you won't so much as think about them."
"I have thought about them," said Jeffrey. He didn't think 'warning signs' was fair, but he'd had doubts. He'd just finished talking with Skye about those doubts. "If she was anyone else, I'd understand, but she—"
"You think too highly of her," Mrs. Tifton interrupted. "She left her fiancé at the altar. If you are so concerned with what is normal, I assure you that is not."
"Not at the altar, exactly," Jeffrey said under his breath, though he knew she might as well have.
"Now it is you who is not seeing the problem. You're asking for trouble." She shook her head angrily. "I can't watch."
"I'm not! She says she loves me, and I believe her. Why can't you? What's so fucking impossible about that?"
"Curse at me one more time and I will ask you to leave," Mrs. Tifton said very quickly, her voice slicing the air like the flash of a knife.
He did need to watch his mouth. That was true. It was running rampant.
"I'm sorry," he said, because it was the right thing to do. He wasn't completely sorry for it yet. He repeated himself without profanity. "But I want to know why you think it's such a crazy idea that Skye might want to be with me."
"You sound like a child. I did not say that."
"Yeah, you basically did."
"Oh please," she said scornfully. "This has nothing to do with you. Skye is the issue. She's narcissistic, brash, and she's impulsive."
"No, she's—"
"You deserve better than that, and you can choose better."
Jeffrey hardly had the energy to argue anymore. "You're biased against her."
"You are biased, honey. I'm sorry, but you're blinded. One day you'll see I'm right."
"The thing is…" He stopped to glare at an innocent crack in the concrete floor. "You thought Skye was all those things before. The wedding didn't change anything. It's just an excuse for you to bash her to me."
"No, the fact that I already didn't like her is your excuse for not listening to me now."
Around and around they could go, trading accusations. Jeffrey decided to stop. It was pointless.
"I'm not blinded, I know Skye. She's not happy with herself right now. She feels terrible about Dušek, because she cares. If she didn't care, maybe you would have a point, but she does. She told me. I caught her crying about it. It's not a pattern, Mom. She doesn't hurt people left and right. I trust her. I really, really trust her, so if she says she wants this relationship with me, then…" He shrugged. He didn't know how to explain this any other way. "I believe her."
Mrs. Tifton exhaled out her nose without comment.
Jeffrey kept going. "She's a great person. She cares so much about her family and her friends. She cares about me. It's why I trust her."
"How can you? You just told me she cares about this Dušek, and look how she treated him."
Jeffrey opened his mouth and closed it. She was making it so hard to argue with her. She'd never understand how he knew that Skye wouldn't repeat herself. He just knew.
He consented, "I guess there is a possibility something could go wrong one day, but that's the risk with every relationship. You know that. You've taken that risk a lot."
"I regret each one," she said.
"Not everyone does. Sometimes it works out," he said. "Skye is the person I want to risk it on. She's worth it. I do think very highly of her, but no more than I should. She has so much going for her. If you looked, you'd see it. You don't have to look hard. She's fun, and she's passionate, and what you call narcissism, I call confidence. She knows what she's worth – that isn't a bad thing. She's both family and goal oriented. She's insanely smart – way smarter than I am. She's getting her doctorate right now. And on top of all of that, she's gorgeous."
"Alright," said Mrs. Tifton, with reluctance, because she hardly saw what Jeffrey did in Skye. "I'm sick of this argument."
"Okay, but – just tell me, after all that stuff I said, do you honestly think I can find someone better?"
"Yes." She didn't have to think about it.
Jeffrey had expected as much, but it disappointed him anyway. He'd done his very best to change her mind. His mother had a jaundiced eye he couldn't fight. "By what standard?"
"Oh, what do you think, Jeffrey?" said Mrs. Tifton, suddenly waspish and loud. "She hates me!"
Jeffrey jumped, and it wasn't because of her volume or her tone, though both had been rather aggressive. His mother was prone to abrupt bouts of temper; it didn't startle him. No, he'd jumped because he had anticipated a very different answer. She'd left him speechless.
"Forget your sales pitch. I already know you think she's God's gift to us all," said Mrs. Tifton. "But I had hoped that the woman you chose, at the bare minimum, would be able to stand my presence." Her face softened almost pleadingly. She sagged in her seat. "Does that make me so terrible?"
"No." Jeffrey's irritation with her drained away, slowly at first, the edges of it turning dull. Then, it vaporized. He finally uncrossed his arms, which had started to ache. "But remember, she feels the same way. She won't like you if you only ever criticize her. She's defensive, and I have to say, I get it. I would be too."
"Skye has never shown me any respect. I see no reason for me to grant her the courtesy."
Jeffrey rubbed his lips together. He felt trapped. Skye had him by one arm, his mother by the other, tugging in opposite directions. That wasn't new, and there had been moments when it discomforted him in the past, but bearably. That would soon change, because everything was different now. They would tug harder, and if he didn't do something about it, their feud would rip him in half. He didn't think that Skye knew he talked to his mother as much as he did. In fact, he would bet that she thought every phone call he received from her was an inconvenience, one he answered out of obligation. That wasn't true. They were in contact almost every day, and she called him weekly. If she didn't, he called her. That had been their routine since he'd started boarding school at eleven years old.
He hadn't thought about the pressure that his mother's conflict with Skye could put him under, not until today. Not until he'd connected the dots and saw their rivalry, once only about petty disagreements and wounded pride, turning into a rivalry centered around him.
But he had thought about the pressure his mother's disapproval would put him under, and he wanted to talk about that most. It was the easiest to address. He didn't care if she liked Skye. He just wanted her support.
"You hadn't seen her in years," he reminded her, careful not to sound upset. He wasn't really. "You're holding a grudge against Skye the kid, but she's fifteen years older now. You didn't give Skye the adult a chance to be any different than you expected her to be."
"Nor did she give me that chance," Mrs. Tifton countered, acidic and slow.
"Mom." Jeffrey offered a small smile. He had to be gentle with any criticism – constructive was all it was. He wasn't making accusations anymore. "The first thing you did was forbid her from talking to me."
"For good reason," said Mrs. Tifton. "But I am referring to before that. I know how she speaks of me – her whole family – they bad mouth me."
They did. How much, he'd never really know. No one said anything too terrible to his face, but he had heard little comments. He'd seen the looks exchanged at the mention of her name, and he knew the consensus was that his mother was, quote unquote, awful.
"You're my son, and they all believe that makes you some kind of victim," said Mrs. Tifton, donning an air both proud and defensive. "Forgive me if I resent them for that."
"You're probably right," he quietly admitted. He'd caught wind of that too, here and there. Poor Jeffrey, this and that. No one ever remembered how much his mother had given him, more than she'd ever needed to. He did. He remembered.
"I will talk to Skye about that," he promised. "Actually, I already have. Just the other day I told her that you aren't as bad as she thinks you are."
"Isn't that nice," said Mrs. Tifton, voice laden with scorn.
"I meant—" Jeffrey sighed. That had come out wrong. "This is not where I thought our conversation would go." He pushed his hand through his hair. "Okay. I understand what you're saying."
She shook her head, like she didn't think he could understand. "She thinks I am a horrible parent. She makes that quite clear, and it has never seemed to bother you."
"It does." It bothered him more now that he knew his mother cared. "You're not horrible. I've never thought that."
Obstinate, arrogant, unreasonable even – these were all words he'd been known to use, but horrible was different. Horrible was wrong. She had character flaws, but as did everyone. A lot of who he was he could attribute to learning from hers. She did her best, and she'd taught him much, both when she had meant to, and when she hadn't. Probably, he thought, that was what made her a good parent. He wouldn't be teachable if he only learned when it was easy.
"I have failed in many – most – aspects of my life, but you— Jeffrey, you are the one thing I know I did right." She sat stiffly, her back straight and her chin held high. "It's hurtful how little I am acknowledged for it, because you are all I have left to be proud of."
Jeffrey puffed out his cheeks with a steady exhale. Fucking A— that was a lot more than he'd been ready for. What could he even say? Thanks? He said nothing.
"I know it upsets you, and I am sorry, but I don't like that you fell in love with someone who thinks the very littlest of me." It was obvious that she was fighting against it, but Mrs. Tifton's voice had startled to wobble. "It does not make me feel appreciated by you."
He needed time, so much more time, to think of a good response, and he didn't have it. Everything she said drove the ability further away, while demanding all the more that he give her something back. He was stunned. It wasn't especially surprising that his mother was unfond of Skye's opinion of her, but he had always thought that when boiled down, it would be her pride at the root of the issue, not him.
Mrs. Tifton broke their eye contact, turning her head so he wouldn't see, but she didn't do it fast enough. She was teary, and Jeffrey saw. His heart went out to her, a physical pull he felt inside his chest. His stomach clenched with the drop of his shoulders.
"I do appreciate you." There had been plenty of times he hadn't appreciated something she said or did, but that didn't mean the sentiment extended to her as a person. It never would. No matter what the future held, that wouldn't change.
She tensed her mouth and brushed the underside of her eye with the edge of her finger. When she finally did decide to look at him again, her eyes were still wet.
"You surround yourself with people who are repelled by me."
Mrs. Tifton stood up to pace. The clack of her heels on the pavement quickened Jeffrey's pulse. He watched her steps. They were easier to follow than the direction of the conversation. He wasn't sure how they'd gotten here. He'd come to the Robinettes' with a very different idea about where they would end up.
She waved her hands as she spoke, a surefire sign of distress, but she didn't sound angry. "You opened Arundel to all of them – to your father. I understand that I gave you the estate, but I didn't think you would immediately invite in a crowd of people who despise me. They act like they can't believe I have the audacity to show my face in the home I lived in for more than forty years. All I want to do is spend time with you while you're here, and it's a chore. I feel ostracized in every attempt. They think it is wrong of me to ask for my son, like I am stealing you away. They see it as rude, and they think I should leave you alone." She stopped pacing and faced him, fresh tears glistening in her eyes. "Should I? Are they right?"
No, Jeffrey failed to say out loud. He had long figured out that his mother was afraid she would lose him one day, but he'd thought it was an involuntary fear, based in all she had lost and how little she had held onto. He hadn't realized she saw a real reason to worry, that she believed he was already on his way out. He thought back hard, and he thought back years, but he couldn't identify where he'd implied that. Wherever he had, he'd renounce it.
"Why didn't you tell me about the wedding?" she asked. "I had to hear about that from Cagney, because you didn't think to call and say you would be coming home."
He hadn't told her because he hadn't wanted the wedding to upset her. He had hoped to keep her from Arundel until it was over, only to avoid all of this drama. He hadn't been hiding from her. His heart cracked, as did his voice.
"I was going to surprise you in New York."
"I couldn't know that, could I? I hadn't seen you in almost a year. Imagine how I felt when I learned you would be here in a week and I—" She pressed her fingertips to her mouth and shook her head. "I didn't know."
He didn't reply. He wasn't confident he could well enough. He felt like he'd been unexpectedly transported to a different part of the world and had yet to orient himself to the abrupt change. He stood. Instead of stumbling through a pitiful response, he hugged her. With a sharp intake of breath, she tensed, and he couldn't blame her for it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd initiated so solid a hug.
"Jeffrey—" she said weakly, standing stock-still.
"Please keep asking for me. Even if no one else wants you to, I do."
He had, on occasion, been reluctant to go when she had asked. He'd been too annoyed about all things Marlene-related, and about his mother's disapproval of Penderwicks and their weddings. He could admit, now quite guiltily, that he'd also gotten a little caught up in the pitied stares he had been given when the word was that 'Mrs. Tifton is here asking for Jeffrey again'. It had all been a mistake. He would rather her harp on him about nonsense than never come for him at all. He forgot, sometimes, that nagging was her love language. Aggravating it was, but it was how she showed that she cared.
Goddamn. His father really had been right. The irony was rather like waking from a slap to the face.
"I'm glad you're here," he promised.
"You say so now," she said. "But I am concerned that, eventually, Skye will make you see me the way that she does, and she thinks I'm a pest."
"I'm not going to think that." Jeffrey hugged her harder. She had yet to hug back. He wouldn't let her go until she did.
"I don't know what I'd do if you—" She broke off with a squeak.
"I won't, okay? Say okay."
"Okay."
Finally, Mrs. Tifton wrapped her arms around his back. Jeffrey couldn't hear it, but he felt her crying. He breathed slowly through pursed lips to banish the thickness in his throat.
"I love you." Jeffrey hung his chin over her shoulder. "I'm sorry I don't say that very much."
"Well." She stepped out of his hug and wiped trails of mascara from her face. "As long as you do."
"Yeah." He nodded, and his eyes stung. "I'd take a bullet for you. If you think I wouldn't, you're wrong."
"Let's not go that far."
"Please," Jeffrey agreed with a laugh.
She smiled softly and blinked away the last of her tears. "I know I make you angry, but I always do what I can to love you well enough. That is my only goal."
"I know. I'm sorry for swearing, and for barging in here a hotheaded mess." He gave her a one sided smile. "You know, somebody told me that I needed to chill out and listen to you first."
"Somebody, who?"
"We don't talk about him."
"Oh god," she muttered. She passed a hand across her mouth, behind which Jeffrey saw the tiniest hint of a laugh.
"It was good advice, though," he said.
"Perhaps."
Jeffrey laughed, and he left Alec out of the conversation after that. He didn't really belong in it. Still smiling, he asked, "Can you let me live my life my way now?"
"I can promise to try," she said. "You do threaten me with a stroke from time to time. Remember, I am not so young."
"You're plenty young," he assured her. "So, no more pulling strings? No more badgering my friends?" To signal that he had no anger left on the matter, he laughed. "No more confronting Skye instead of talking to me? Please?"
"Yes, alright. None of that."
"Okay. Then I'm happy."
"I did mean well. I was trying to…" Mrs. Tifton lifted her hand and dropped it. "To stop you from messing up your life like I messed up mine."
"I believe you."
"Now you do, thank heavens." Mrs. Tifton sighed, as exhausted as he was. "And, Jeffrey, I said my piece. If you're happy and you're confident, I will live with it."
He felt lighter. Pounds of stress lifted off his shoulders. It almost made him tear up. He swept his eyes around the veranda until the temptation passed. "That's all I want."
"I hope you know what you're doing."
"I do. I promise." Since things were going so well, Jeffrey decided to push his luck. "If you're willing, I would like you to apologize to her."
"Oh," Mrs. Tifton moaned and touched her hand to her forehead.
"Please," he said. "You can come by tonight. The reception will be over around 7:00, and since I know you care, Dad will be gone after that. You can tell Skye you're sorry, and if she doesn't accept it, then that's something I'll talk to her about. I want both of you to make an effort, because I love you both. It's just as important to me that she gives you a chance as it is that you give her one."
"Thank you for saying that." Mrs. Tifton hesitated briefly, then said, "Wait here a moment."
She retreated into the house, so Jeffrey sat in a chair to wait. She hadn't agreed or disagreed to his request. It might be asking for a bit much, he knew, and it also might not make a difference. He hoped she would apologize anyway.
Mrs. Tifton returned with a large silver shopping bag. Jeffrey recognized the brand – Clothilde's – a bridal shop his mother had somewhat frequented.
"I planned to drop this off with Lydia, but I might as well give it to you." She held the bag out to him. "For Rosalind."
Surprised, but pleasantly, Jeffrey took it.
"I purchased one for Skye as well, but since she won't be needing it now, I'll have to return it."
Abruptly, he remembered his mother asking if she should buy them wedding gifts. "I thought you were joking."
She shrugged.
"Thank you," said Jeffrey. He started to smile. An effort was already being made.
"Well, it isn't for you."
"Thank you anyway."
She looked embarrassed , tucking her hair behind her ear. "She may give it to the dogs for all I care. I can't say I expect her to wear it."
Jeffrey peeked into the bag and saw a box wrapped in gold and silver ribbons. "What is it?"
"A veil."
"Oh, okay." Jeffrey laughed. She was right. He doubted Rosalind would walk down the aisle wearing a gift from his mother.
"Why don't you tell her…" Mrs. Tifton paused and shuffled her weight from foot to foot. "Tell her I wish her better luck than I've had."
"She doesn't need it." If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Rosalind and Tommy would be just fine.
"Don't tell her, then. It makes no difference to me."
"No, I will. Of course I will." Jeffrey stood up, bag in hand. The wedding was approaching fast, if he wasn't careful he would be late, and then, murdered. Hopefully, because he still hadn't received an answer, he said, "I have to get back, but see you tonight?"
"If it means so very much to you." She breathed in deeply through her nose, spoke as if the words were hauled out of her by tow cables. "I will tell Skye I crossed the line."
"Thank you." Jeffrey gave her a big smile.
"Would you like an apology too?"
He shook his head. They had covered enough ground. Sorry wasn't something he needed anymore. He'd asked her for the benefit of the doubt – he realized she had deserved it too.
"I'm glad you came by," she said.
"Me too." Jeffrey hugged her again. "Thanks for caring – even if sometimes you go a little overboard."
"I do my best."
"I know. I love you for it." He stepped back. "Okay, I really have to go."
"Tell Cagney I will come to the cottage tonight. You can bring Skye there."
"Yeah, that sounds perfect."
Jeffrey waved and went around the side of the house to get to his car. Once inside, he set the Clothilde's bag in the passenger seat, but didn't drive off. He needed a few minutes. He leaned back against the headrest and let out a long sigh, punctuated with a laugh. And after that? He cried.
A/N: I am a Mrs. Tifton apologist (if that's not obvious now). You know that tiktok that is like "what's one thing you could give a 40 minute presentation on with no preparation?" This. This is mine.
Don't get me wrong, she did some wrong things (hello, Alec), but I think she is really unfairly villainized. That was totally okay when the Penderwicks were all kids, but in the last book, it left a bad taste in my mouth. One line specifically: "Mostly because she never seemed to appreciate Jeffrey as much as she should, which for a parent was unacceptable." That is absolutely, in no way grounded in canon, and I could bring receipts. I won't since I'd go on for like 2000 words.
I will say this though: Rosalind told Lydia "the word is that Mrs. T doesn't loathe you like the rest of us, and we are amazed and wonder how you did it". I'll tell you how, Rosy: Lydia was polite and friendly. She talked to Mrs. Tifton like a respectable human being, and big shock, made a decent impression.
The older I get, the more I understand her. It's wild.