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Emily proved prophetic. Despite Simon's grandiose claims, John had wiped out both him and Edward in a few short hands. He was more than happy to see Emily and Connie return. Lydia came in a few moments later, and headed into the kitchen to make coffee and tea to go with their pumpkin pie. Overstuffed from dinner, there had been unanimous agreement to save the pie until it could be properly enjoyed.
John pulled Emily to the sofa and refused to let her go, so Connie went to help her mother.
"Things going well between you and Simon?" asked Lydia.
Connie nodded, her guard up. She wasn’t sure how to handle these questions, so she needed to answer carefully. "Yes. It's been very nice." That much was true.
"It seemed rather sudden." Lydia's voice was light as she switched on the coffee maker. "I mean, you've shared the apartment for so long but nothing's happened before." She stopped and looked at her daughter. "Has it?"
"What?" Connie was startled. "No, nothing before. We were just . . . I don't know. Just talking one night and we decided to take a chance on it." Okay, that's a half-truth, Connie comforted herself. We were talking. And I will take a chance on something.
"Ben's nice, don't you think?" Her mother changed the subject abruptly. "He's handled his injury so well."
"He seemed in good spirits about it." Connie was wary. Where was this going?
"I always thought you and Ben would make a good couple. Especially now."
"Why now?" She and Ben hadn't been close, but they'd been friends. She'd never had any interest in dating him, nor he her, as far as she knew.
"Well, you know." Lydia reached for a tray. "His injury, your injury. You both must know what it's like to go through something difficult like that. That's not an experience everyone shares."
"Um, yeah." Connie had an ugly suspicion where the conversation was heading, and hoped she was wrong.
"Simon is very handsome."
What is it with the non sequiturs? Connie wondered in frustration.
Out loud she said, "Yes, he is. I've always thought so."
"Do you think you'll have some pie?" her mom asked. "I mean, you must be watching your weight more than ever now."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Simon, of course." Her mother laid dessert plates on the tray. "You want to look your best for him, don’t you?"
"He likes me the way I am," Connie managed to sputter out.
"Of course, he does, dear," said Lydia. "But it never hurts to be in shape. Women do a lot to keep men happy, you know. I go to the gym every day to keep fit for your father. Clothes, too. We should go shopping while you're here." She poured cream from a carton into a pitcher and set it on the tray.
"Right." The implications made Connie feel ill. You're not pretty enough for Simon, her mother was saying. Better dress the part if you don’t want to lose him.
"I think long dresses are back in style," Lydia went on. "And I've seen some lovely slacks and outfits in the stores. I know you don't go in for short styles, and I understand."
Connie, near tears, said nothing. She doesn’t know, Connie thought. She doesn’t know how hurtful this sounds. It's twisted, but she's just saying these things because she thinks they'll help me. She clung to those thoughts while getting out dessert forks for the pie.
"Ben doesn't strike me as the type who cares about those things," Lydia went on. "He seems very laid-back, very accepting of things. Of course, I'm sure being in a war zone gives you a perspective on things that the average person doesn't get."
"Knock it off, Mom, for God's sake!" Emily's voice startled both of them and they spun around.
"Emily!" Connie heard the sharp edge in her mother's voice, as much from surprise as hurt.
"Can't you see how much you're hurting Connie's feelings?" Emily demanded, walking into the kitchen. "What is it with you, Mom? Simon cares about her, and she cares about him. There's no need for Connie to change or hide anything about herself."
"Emily." Lydia was calmer now. "I've been around longer. You two always saw through rose-colored glasses. I've seen how things work. People with figures like Connie—and me—have a harder time than more slender people. People with visible disfigurements also have difficulties, let's not pretend they don't."
"Connie has a scar on her leg from an accident, Mom." Emily's eyes, green like Connie's but lighter, sparked in anger. "She's hardly the elephant man. And while she may not be a size two, she's very pretty and Simon loves her for it. It's also insulting to Ben," Emily continued. "He may have lost an arm but he's got no less right to happiness than anyone else. Whether they have scars or not."
"I never said otherwise," Lydia pointed out, her voice level but heated. Her eyes were narrowed, and it was obvious she and her older daughter were ready to keep going at it.
"Just let it go, Em," Connie spoke up.