Chapter 170
“Mom, don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.” Suzan was more anxious about the child than anyone else.
She mulled over her next steps, wondering what would be best.
…
Time flew by, and before anyone realized it, the holidays were here.
It was Effie’s first Christmas since marrying Lyman.
She took it seriously-after all, she was the new wife in the family.
First, she visited her grandmother, bringing along a generous basket of gifts and staying to share a meal.
Lyman had wanted to invite her grandmother over to their place for the holidays, thinking it would be livelier with her there. But Grandma preferred the company of her neighbor these days, and politely declined the invitation.
Effie didn’t push it-she visited often enough anyway.
After dinner, she and Lyman headed home together.
This year, they were having Christmas Eve dinner at the old family house.
Lyman’s Uncle Healy and Uncle Fowler had both returned with their families.
The patriarch had three sons: the eldest was Lyman’s father; the second, Healy Etheridge, was married to Charis and had a son named Graham; the youngest, Fowler Etheridge, was married to Marcia and had a daughter, Fidelia.
Healy and Fowler both managed different branches of the family business out of town, so they only came back for major holidays and important occasions.
Since Effie and Lyman hadn’t held a wedding reception yet, she hadn’t met the whole extended family until now.
Effie felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach.
Lyman smiled, offering reassurance. “Don’t worry. Luther’s already picked out the gifts for everyone. All you have to do is hand them out.”
Effie pressed her lips together, a hint of anxiety in her voice. “I just hope everyone’s easy to get along with.”
Lyman’s gaze turned cool. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be right by your side.”
On the surface, the Etheridge family seemed harmonious, but beneath it all, tensions simmered.
Healy’s and Fowler’s families had long resented Lyman’s control over the business, but out of respect for the patriarch, no one dared challenge him openly.
The truth was, Lyman’s talent left them no room to compete.
Effie took a deep breath and slipped her arm through Lyman’s as they stepped into the old house.
The foyer was bright and bustling, with staff hurrying to set the table.
At the head of the room, Bancroft sat in his usual spot. When he saw them come
in, warmth lit up his face. “There you are! Come, sit with us.”
Lyman nodded and guided Effie forward.
Friedman and Lindy were already there, smiling as they watched the couple approach.
Uncle Healy and Uncle Fowler’s families were all seated. As Effie and Lyman entered, every pair of eyes turned in their direction.
Charis gave a wide, welcoming smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So you’re Effie? You are lovely-I can see why Lyman’s so taken with you.”
Marcia chimed in with a smile of her own. “Yes, we heard your wedding was a bit rushed. No reception or anything. That must have been tough on you.”
Beneath the friendly words, the implication was clear: Effie hadn’t been given the importance she deserved.
Effie’s fingers tightened slightly, but she kept her composure. “Aunt Charis, Aunt Marcia, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I brought a little something I hope you’ll like it.”
She handed them carefully wrapped gift boxes.
Charis opened hers to find an elegant silk scarf-expensive, tasteful. Her smile softened into something genuinely appreciative. “Goodness, this is too much!”
But she tucked it away quickly all the same.
Marcia’s gift was another luxurious scarf-real silk, from a brand that was hard to come by.
Fidelia leaned in with a playful grin. “So, what about me, sis?”
Effie was ready. She handed over a limited-edition handbag. “I heard you love this designer. I hope it’s your style.”
Luther really was the “ace assistant”—he seemed to know exactly what everyone in the family liked.