Chapter 4: Scandal on the Porch

"Aww, Aunt Carol, congratulations, congratulations!"

Amid the neighbors’ cheerful blessings, Uncle Jeff led a group of people carrying two big baskets of engagement gifts into our yard. The baskets were piled high with tins of cookies, home-canned preserves, and a crisp new quilt—a small-town parade of hope and expectation.

My hands fell limply to my sides as I closed my eyes in resignation. The laughter and chatter washed over me, half-dream, half-nightmare.

Forget it. The word settled in my chest, heavy as a cinder block.

If I don’t marry Michael Parker, what better fate could I hope for? I glanced at the sagging porch swing, the peeling paint, and wondered if this was as good as it got.

For a small-town girl, having a husband who doesn’t hit or yell at you is already the greatest luck. My friend Mindy always said, "It could be worse—at least he comes home every night."

As for work—who doesn’t work after marriage? Who doesn’t endure a mother-in-law’s temper? There was a certain solidarity in shared complaints, whispered late at night over the fence.

After becoming a county clerk’s wife, I learned that even girls from wealthy families don’t live as glamorously as they seem. Their troubles just came dressed in finer clothes.

When they’re young, they must compete with half-sisters, helping their own mothers vie for their father’s favor. The politics of inheritance and affection were as brutal as any backroom deal in Atlanta.

With favor comes a bigger inheritance and a better marriage. The stakes always higher, the competition relentless.

After marriage, they have to fight with mistresses and their mother-in-law. If they win, they secure more for their children. The game never ended, just changed its rules.

Everyone has their own hardships. No one’s story is as simple as it seems from the outside.

In this world, it’s not easy for women to survive. The rules are written in invisible ink, only visible once you’ve already lost.

Besides, if I rashly broke off the engagement, my parents would probably be drowned in neighbors’ gossip. In Maple Hollow, rumors traveled faster than the river in spring flood.

Let it be. Sometimes, the only peace to be found is in surrender.

At least I’m already familiar with the Parker family’s ways—I can always find ways to make life more bearable for myself. I’d survived before; I could do it again.

"No way in hell am I letting this marriage happen!"

A sharp, rough female voice exploded in the yard like a clap of thunder. Conversation stilled, all eyes turning at once.

My mother-in-law’s voice?

I shot to my feet in astonishment and rushed to the door in three steps. My heart raced—no matter how many lifetimes, I would always recognize that tone.

Sure enough, my mother-in-law stood in the yard. She looked smaller than I remembered, but her presence filled the space.