Ginger stood to her feet. “No offense taken, but why would you think she’d come home pregnant?”

“Honey, have you ever read about Woodstock? All kinds of things went on there,” Kate said. “For the most part Betsy couldn’t even remember what she’d done or who she’d done it with. It wouldn’t have been like she’d fallen in love with a man and had a baby with him.”

Ginger patted Kate on the shoulder as she passed by. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with Lucas, but he was a means to have a place outside of the shelter. Life is what it is. I can’t say I haven’t drank a little or that I haven’t smoked a joint. Lucas did both of those things on a daily basis, but then he died and I could barely eke out a living. I wouldn’t have the right to judge anyone. I was kind of glad that I hadn’t been using any of that kind of shit, though, when I found out I was pregnant.”

“Thank you,” Kate said. “You go on up for a long bath. Breakfast will be half an hour early tomorrow, since we’ll need a little extra time to get ready.”

“See you bright and early, then,” Ginger said as she made her way upstairs. She went to her room first to get her nightshirt and found the pink dress on her bed. With no sleeves or collar, and shortened, it was truly beautiful. A lovely pair of white flats was sitting right beside it with a note. I found these in Mama’s closet. They’ve never been worn, and I liked them better with the dress than I did the ballet slippers.

“Bless your heart, Miz Connie.” Ginger picked up the dress and held it against her body. She’d never had anything quite so elegant, and she wondered what Sloan would think of her all dressed up for Easter.

Who am I kiddin’? She looked at her very pregnant body in the mirror. I’ll look like a big pink elephant. No one, especially not a good-lookin’ guy like Sloan, is going to think I’m pretty.

Chapter Five

Kate was sitting on the bed, carefully pulling her pantyhose up to her knees, when her two sisters poked their heads into the room. She motioned them inside with a wrist movement and then kept working her stockings up a little at a time.

“Remember when we had to wear those uncomfortable garter belts?” She thought back on those days—the days that she was secretly seeing Max Wilson. He’d thought the garter belts and nylons were sexy.

“Yep.” Betsy sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. “And then pantyhose came into vogue and I loved them. But when I gained these few pounds, I was glad to discover thigh highs. The pantyhose crotch always bagged down halfway to my knees. I just can’t find a size that seems to work for my body.”

“They wouldn’t have if you’d bought queen size like I told you,” Connie smarted off. “But oh, no, you think you’re still as skinny as you were at twenty-eight when you traipsed off to Woodstock.”

“Are you never going to let me live that down?” Betsy asked. “It was my one and only adventure, and I had a good time.”

“You don’t remember what you had, other than you learned that you love pot.” Kate finally got her hose to her thighs and stood to work them on up her legs, only to push a hole in one leg with her thumbnail. “Dammit to hell and back on a rusty poker!” she said as she peeled them off and threw them in the corner. “Good thing I bought an extra pair.”

Connie held out her hand. “Give them to me.”

Kate gave them over. “I should’ve brought the first pair to you.”

“I’ve got magic hands.” Connie giggled as she stretched the pantyhose until they were as tall as Kate. “Now try them.”

“Why aren’t you two getting dressed?” Kate pulled the hose on without a problem this time.

“Because I’m callin’ a meeting.” Betsy sat down on the end of the bed. “Ginger has agreed to stay until Thursday, but we’ve got to make her stay forever.”

“I can’t bear the thought of a young woman out there with no family. And I like having her around. We were fallin’ into a rut around here. She spices things up, and”—Connie sucked in a long breath before she went on—“I believe that Sloan might open up to someone near his age.”

“She don’t judge us for our little habits,” Betsy offered, “and I never told y’all, because I was afraid you’d judge me, but I’d slept around the days I was there, and I wanted a baby so bad that I didn’t care who the father was. We’d grown up without a daddy. So . . .” She shrugged. “Anyway, I missed two periods and went to Doc Emerson.”

“How’d you do that without us knowin’?” Connie asked.

“I told you that I was deliverin’ jams to old Miz Grandy. She was a shut-in, remember, and I used to deliver to her sometimes. I really did take jam to her that day, and on the way to the doctor, I . . .” Betsy put her head in her hands and sobbed. “I lost the baby. I wasn’t far enough along to even know what it was, but I just knew in my heart it was a girl. Doc Emerson did what he had to in his office, and I told y’all I had the flu so I could lay around and rest a few days. I was depressed for weeks, and saying it out loud . . .” She stopped and wiped her eyes.

“I understand.” Kate felt like she’d failed in her job as the oldest sister. Her mama had told her from the time she was a little girl that she had a responsibility as the firstborn to look after her two siblings. Then she remembered that she’d kept a secret from her sisters—not as big as a baby, but still a secret.

“I figured God took my daughter from me because I’d been wild and smokin’ pot when I got pregnant with her. I wasn’t goin’ to be a fit mama, so I didn’t get a baby like Grandma and Mama did even though they wasn’t married.” She straightened up and wiped her eyes on the end of her nightgown. “I always imagined my baby would have had brown eyes. What chance did she ever have of having anything else with our bloodlines? But I wanted her to have long blonde hair. I didn’t even care if it was stringy, or if she was fat or skinny. Then last Thursday, it was like an omen when Connie brought Ginger into the beauty shop.”

“Well, I found her,” Connie said. “I was the one on the park bench.”

“Sister, you can’t force her to stay at the Banty House,” Kate said.

“But we could make it so nice here that she wouldn’t want to leave, and then it would be her decision to stay. We’ve talked her into a few more days,” Connie said. “Maybe we could get her to stay until the baby comes, and by then she’ll have put down some roots.”

“It’s worth a try.” Kate’s heart went out to Betsy for keeping that secret locked up inside her all these years. “I just wish you hadn’t gone through all that alone, Betsy.” Her poor sister had wanted a baby so badly that she’d gone to extremes to get one, and when it still hadn’t worked out, she had figured it was a sign that she shouldn’t have children and she never tried again.

“I just figured that I didn’t deserve any support. If I’d stayed home where I belonged”—her chin quivered—“then I mighta gotten pregnant by some guy around these parts and gotten to keep my baby. But oh, no, I had to go off and be wild, so I had to pay for it on my own. I didn’t deserve to have my sisters help me get through the loss of my daughter. But I’ve got another chance at havin’ one now, so y’all can help me with that. I’ll even share my granddaughter with y’all if you will.”

Connie moved over to sit beside Betsy and wrap her arms around her. “My poor sister.”

Betsy sniffled and then broke down crying. “After more than fifty years, I still see a little blonde-haired girl in the store or at church and I think about my daughter.”

Connie hugged her tighter, and Kate joined them for a three-way hug. “Honey, she’d be a full-grown woman, possibly with a daughter Ginger’s age by now.” Kate tried to think back to that time in their lives when Betsy had flown to New York and then traveled to the Woodstock site. She shook her head when she remembered the turmoil in her own life during that time. She’d been so involved with her own emotional roller coaster that it wasn’t any wonder she’d never even realized that her sister was having a problem.

“I know that, but in my mind, she was always a child until I found Ginger, and now she’s a grown woman when I dream about her,” Betsy said.

Connie patted Betsy’s arm. “You need to keep an amethyst and a rose quartz close to your body. One heals body, mind, and spirit, and the other restores harmony after emotional wounds. I’ll put a couple in one of my small pouches. You tuck them inside your bra.”

“I don’t need stones,” Betsy said.