Law and Author by Erika Chase Page A

the wedding but she’s still my mama and I’m her little girl, and next thing I know, she’ll probably refuse to show up if I don’t do it her way.”
    â€œWell, my mama was all against me marrying John,” Teensy ventured, “so we just eloped. Of course, they never wanted us to visit them anytime we came back home, after that.”
    Molly shot Teensy a stern look, which Teensy acknowledged with a shrug and questioning look.
    â€œIt’s not the same thing,” Molly told Sally-Jo. “Your mama is a very strong-willed woman but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make her refuse to see you again.”
    Sally-Jo let out a slow breath. “I’m sure you’re right, Molly, but that doesn’t really give me any clues as to how I’m supposed to deal with her next week.”
    â€œYou could agree to the dress,” Teensy suggested, “and then just accidentally set it on fire.”
    Sally-Jo’s jaw dropped and then, on seeing the look on Teensy’s face, burst out laughing.
    Lizzie was pleased the tension had broken, and took a sip of wine. She noticed that Darla’s look of disdain hadn’t changed.
    â€œYou really don’t like me, do you?” Darla suddenly threw out at Teensy.
    Lizzie heard a light gasp from Molly. It took Teensy a few seconds to compose herself. She sat forward at the edge of her chair and drew herself up to look as tall as her five feet would allow, chin at a slight tilt and fire in her eyes as she answered, “It’s not that I dislike you, child. It’s that I distrust you. And that silly Sue-Ann didn’t do a whit when it came to instilling good manners in you.”
    She held Darla’s gaze and didn’t flinch. Finally, Darla stood, although a bit unsteadily, making Lizzie wonder how many glasses of wine she’d had before joining them.
    â€œI can take a hint.” She stomped toward the kitchen but paused when Teensy said in a loud voice, “I do apologize for speaking despairingly of your late grandmamma.”
    The screen door slammed behind Darla, leaving Molly to look bewildered and Teensy to help herself to another cookie.
    *   *   *
    L izzie was having a hard time concentrating on the book she was reading,
The Wolfe Widow
by Victoria Abbott. She decided to give it a pass at the moment, preferring to spend time with her favorite author when she could pay moreattention to what was going on between the covers of the book.
    She still couldn’t get over what had happened earlier at Molly’s. That was quite the scene and while she silently was rooting for Teensy, she couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Darla. If she hadn’t already felt unwelcome, that would surely do the trick. Molly had been horrified by the behavior of both of them. And fortunately, Teensy knew when to make a strategic exit, before any more words were said.
    Was Darla merely a misunderstood young woman who knew it and had her back up? Or was there more to it? Her mind kept playing with the Darla conundrum.
    She knew this was something stemming entirely from her own conjecturing. Aside from Teensy, everyone else seemed to be accepting Darla at face value, believing her motives to be pure.
Why can’t I believe that, too?
    Best to go through the encounter in the alley yet again, Lizzie decided. She told herself to sit back and relax, breathe deeply, picture a watch on a chain swinging in front of her eyes. Wasn’t that what hypnotists did? After a couple of minutes, she decided she was spending too much time trying to relax and focus.
Just relax.
    She pictured the alleyway, visualized Darla wearing her torn black denim jeans and green hoodie, with the man, now known as Rafe Shannon, dressed in dark leather jacket and jeans. He had hold of her upper right arm and pulled her along with him. So she was right about that. She hadn’t wanted to go.
    However,