I am not, nor will I ever be, the kind of woman who wears
pearls with her apron while cooking meat loaf for her
husband. But when I was a kid, my mother, Babs, prepared
me to be the next June Cleaver — teaching me lessons that
belonged to another era. Another world, practically. My
mother's world. I couldn't wait to leave home and get away
from her. But now, well...let's just say life hasn't
turned out quite as I'd planned. And heaven help me, I'm
going home.
Laney Hoffman — Cotton Queen, 1975
It's funny — all I ever wanted was to teach my daughter,
Laney, how to be a lady so she could find a good husband
and take her rightful place in our community. But Laney
has always remained convinced that my life and my ideas
are, well, pathetic. She has no idea — no idea! — what it
is to lose a husband, to watch your dreams wither while
keeping a smile on your face for the neighbors. Now, that
is a talent. Laney is probably too smart for her own good,
but being smart hasn't kept her out of trouble. Thank
heavens I'm here to help pick up the pieces.