by Gina Wilkins
The other photograph, a bit more formal in monochrome colors of black and white, showed her mother and father on their wedding day. Her mother looked so young, so beautiful, so thin. Daddy was as handsome as ever in his tuxedo, his arm around his bride, his hand easily spanning her waist. The bridal bouquet was larger and over-the-top, typical for the early 80’s, but her mother’s dress…
Melissa squeezed tighter to the basket, the cellophane crinkling loudly in the silent room.
Abby had planned her wedding with the precision of an army general, right down to her chiffon, A-line silhouette gown with just enough crystal bling along the shoulder straps to give a special sparkle. Their mother looked the opposite, but just as beautiful wearing her own mother’s gown, a vintage 1960 beauty of satin, lace and tulle with a circular skirt that cried out for layers of crinoline, a square-neck bodice and sleeves that hugged her arms.
A dress that Melissa had always seen herself wearing one day.
The day she married Josh.
Of course, she’d change into something short and sexy and perfect for dancing the night away after the ceremony, but—
“Oh, what does it matter!” Melissa said aloud. “It’s not going to happen! It’s never going to happen. Josh doesn’t want to date you anymore, much less even think about getting down on one knee.”
She exited the room and hurried down the long hall, tucking the basket just out of sight. They would have dessert, present the gift and then she would find a way to get Josh to take her home as soon as possible.
For the last time.
* * *
This was all Greg’s fault.
As heartbreaking as it was, because she and Frank had always loved Greg, Diana knew deep in her heart that the man they’d welcomed in their home, into their hearts, was on the verge of walking out on their daughter.
How could Greg do this to Abby?
They were perfect together, complemented each other so well because they were so alike. Levelheaded, organized to a fault, methodical even.
Diana paused and grabbed hold of the stairway landing.
Could that be it?
Could Abby and Greg be too much alike? Had her son-in-law found someone else? Someone cute and bubbly who hung on his every word like it was gold?
Abby had mentioned a coworker of Greg’s they’d run into one night while out to dinner. She’d said he’d been reluctant to introduce them, which seemed strange as the woman had literally gushed at how much she enjoyed working with Abby’s husband when she’d stopped by their table.
The need to get to Frank, to squeeze his hand and have him comfort her, rolled over Diana. She needed him to tell her that everything would be all right, that she’d been right all along, and promise her they’d fight tooth and nail for their daughter so she didn’t lose this beautiful home.
“Mom?”
Diana looked up and found Melissa standing there.
“Are you okay?” Melissa asked. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve got a death grip on the railing.”
Diana immediately released her hold. “I just got a bit light-headed for a moment.”
Concern filled her daughter’s beautiful eyes. She motioned to the steps that led to the second floor. “Here, let’s sit.”
“But your sister is—”
“Perfectly capable of pulling dessert together all on her own,” Melissa took her arm and the two of them sat. “Disgustingly capable, as we both know.”
Diana sat, basically because she had no choice, taking the time to really look at her daughter. She’d been crying. Her baby suffered the same fate as she did when tears came—puffy eyes. And while Melissa had been acting strange during dinner, this was the first true evidence Diana had that something was terribly wrong.
“Darling, you seem a bit…off this evening.” Diana kept her tone light after a few minutes of silence passed. “How is everything with you? You didn’t eat very much tonight.”
Melissa stared at her clenched hands. “Everything is just fine, Mother. It’s been a long week and I’m very tired.”
“Yes, you said you’ve been working long hours. That’s probably cut into your free time with Josh.”
“Y-yes, it has, but I don’t think that’s going to be a problem much longer.”
“What does that mean?”
Melissa rose, one hand pressed against her stomach. “It’s nothing. You were right. We should get back into the dining room. You know how Abby gets when things go off schedule.”
Yes, she did know. Oh, the divorce was going to upset Abby’s tidy world, but that didn’t mean that Diana wouldn’t be there for her other daughter, as well. She still had no idea what was bothering her youngest, but she would find out before this evening was through.
And she would make things right.
For both her girls.
She’d easily found the time to attend Abby’s debates, girl scout meetings and band concerts and never missed a dance recital, theatre production or football game while Melissa was on the cheerleading squad. Her daughters might be grown, but they still needed their mother.
Now more than ever.
Diana stood, as well. “Yes, let’s go back and join everyone.”
They walked into the room and Diana’s gaze locked with Frank’s. Her husband watched her every step as she moved around the table to retake her seat next to him. Thirty years of marriage honed his deduction skills to a razor-sharp point, and she knew that he knew she’d found out something.
“Okay, let’s get this celebration going.” Greg spoke from where he stood at the buffet filling tall fluted glasses with sparkling liquid, having already popped open the bottle. “Josh, why don’t you hand out the champagne to everyone?”
Frank leaned in close. “What’s wrong?”
Diana batted her eyes, determined not to cry as his gentle and caring tone was sure to bring on the waterworks. “Not now, darling.”
“So you were worried for nothing?”
“Of course not. I was right all along—” She cut off her words when Abby came in with a tray of desserts in her hands. “Dear, can I help with those?”
“No, you stay seated, Mom. It’ll only take me a moment to hand these out.”
True to her words, the etched-crystal parfait dishes were soon at everyone’s place setting and, immediately after, Josh placed a glass in front of Frank and Diana.
Diana watched as he then went back to get two more for Greg and Abby and one last trip for the final two glasses.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” He moved in behind Melissa and reached past her shoulder to place a glass in front of her.
“No, thank you.” Her baby girl’s voice was strained.
“You don’t want any champagne?” Josh was clearly confused. “You love the stuff. We practically finished off a magnum ourselves last New Year’s Eve.”
Melissa shook her head, her dark locks flying over her shoulder. “I’m sure. I’ll just h-have—” She paused, pressing her fingertips to her mouth for a quick moment. “I’d prefer a cup of coffee. Decaf, please.”
Oh, everything made sense now!
The tears, the exhaustion, the hand held protectively over her still flat belly, the refusal of alcohol. Her motherly intrusion might have been late in picking up on Melissa’s distress, but the realization over what her baby was facing hit Diana like a thunderbolt coming from the sky.
Her heart didn’t know whether to break for the certain pain Abby was facing over the end of her marriage or rejoice with the news that she was finally going to be a grandmother!
Her baby was having a baby!
Chapter Five
by Gina Wilkins
The undercurrents of tension at the elegantly set dinner table were obvious enough, even to him.
Melissa had been acting oddly all evening. Abby and Greg kept exchanging significant looks, as though messages passed between them that no one else could hear. Even Melissa and Abby’s mom, Diana, typically the life of any dinner party, was unnaturally subdued and introspective tonight. Only the family patriarch, Frank, seemed as steady and unruffled as ever, characteristically enjoying the time with his family without getting drawn in to their occasional, usually Diana-generated melodramas.
Josh didn’t have a clue what was going on with any of them. Shouldn’t he understand them better by now, considering he wanted so badly to be truly one of them soon?
He dipped his spoon into the dessert dish in front of him, scooping up a bite of fresh raspberries, an orange-liqueur-flavored mascarpone-cheese mixture and ladyfingers spread with what tasted like raspberry jam. “Abby, this dessert is amazing.”
She smiled across the table at him. “Thank you. Mom and Dad had tiramisu the first night of their honeymoon, so I tried to recreate that nice memory.”
“Ours wasn’t flavored with orange and raspberry,” Diana seemed compelled to point out. “We had a more traditional espresso-based tiramisu.”
Abby’s smile turned just a bit wry. “I found this recipe online and thought it sounded good. I wasn’t trying to exactly reproduce what you had before, Mom.”
“I think this one is even better,” Frank interjected hastily, after swallowing a big bite of his dessert. “Who’d have thought thirty years later we’d be eating tiramisu made by our own little girl, eh, Diana?”
Everyone smiled—except Melissa, who was playing with her dessert without her usual enthusiasm for sweets. It bothered Josh that Melissa seemed to become more withdrawn and somber as the evening progressed. Though she had made a noticeable effort to participate in the dining table conversation, her eyes were darkened to almost jade and the few smiles she’d managed looked forced. As well as he knew her, as much as he loved her, he sensed when she was stressed or unhappy. For some reason, she seemed both tonight, and that was twisting him into knots.
Maybe Abby had been right when she’d warned him that his nervous anticipation was affecting Melissa, though he thought he’d done a better job of hiding it from her. Apparently, she knew him a bit too well, also.
Encouraged by the response to his compliment of the dessert, he thought he would try again to keep the conversation light and cheerful. Maybe Melissa would relax if everyone else did.
Mindful of the reason for this gathering—and because he was rather obsessed with love and marriage, anyway—he said, “Thirty years. That’s a remarkable accomplishment these days. Not many couples are able to keep the fire alive for that long.”
He couldn’t imagine his passion for Melissa ever burning out, not in thirty years—or fifty, for that matter.
He felt her shift in her seat next to him and her spoon clicked against her dessert dish. He glanced sideways at her, but she was looking down at her dish, her glossy black hair falling forward to hide her face from him.
Frank, at least, seemed pleased with Josh’s observation.
“That’s it, exactly.” Frank pointed his spoon in Josh’s direction, almost dripping raspberry jam on the tablecloth. “Keeping the fire alive. Takes work, but it’s worth it, right, hon?”
“Absolutely.” Diana looked hard at Abby and Greg as she spoke. “All marriages go through challenging times, but with love and patience and mutual effort, the rewards will come.”
Abby and Greg shared a startled look, but Frank spoke again before either of them could respond to what seemed like a sermon aimed directly at them. “I still remember the day I met her, just like it was yesterday.”
That sounded like a story worth pursuing. Though everyone else had probably heard it many times, Josh encouraged Frank to continue. “I’d like to hear about it. How did you meet?”
Frank’s smile was nostalgic, his eyes distant with the memories. “I was the best man in a college friend’s wedding. Diana was the maid of honor. I had a flat tire on the way to the wedding rehearsal, so I was late arriving.”
Diana shook her head. Though she still looked worried about something, she was paying attention to her husband’s tale. “The bride was fit to be tied that it looked as though the best man wasn’t going to show up for the rehearsal. She was a nervous wreck, even though her groom kept assuring her Frank could be counted on to be there.”
Frank chuckled. “Anyway, the minute I arrived, all rumpled and dusty from changing the tire, I was rushed straight to a little room off the church sanctuary where the groom’s party was gathered getting ready to enter on cue. I didn’t have a chance to socialize or meet the other wedding party members before the rehearsal began. Five minutes after I dashed in, I was standing at the front of the church next to my friend Jim. And then the music began and the bridesmaids started their march in. Diana was the third bridesmaid to enter.”
“Gretchen was first, Bridget next.”
Ignoring the details Diana inserted, Frank continued, “She was wearing a green dress, the same color as her eyes. The minute she walked into the church, I felt my heart flop like a landed fish.”
Diana laughed ruefully. “Well, that doesn’t sound very romantic.”
Frank patted her hand, still lost in his memories. “She stopped halfway down the aisle and informed the organist that she was playing much too slowly and that everyone in the audience would fall asleep before the whole wedding party reached the front of the church.”
“Well, she was.”
Frank chuckled and winked at Josh. “That was when I knew this was someone I had to meet.”
Charmed by the story, Josh remembered the first moment he’d laid eyes on Melissa. He understood that “floppy fish” analogy all too well, though he’d compared his own heart to a runaway train. He could still recall how hard it had raced when Melissa had tossed back her dark hair and laughed up at him for the first time, her green eyes sparkling with humor and warmth. He’d actually wondered for a moment if she could hear it pounding against his chest.
“So it was love at first sight?”
Frank nodded decisively. “That it was.”
“And when did you know she was ‘the one’ for you? That you wanted to marry her?”
“Probably right then. But certainly the next evening during the ceremony, after I’d spent a few hours getting to know Diana. When I found myself mentally saying ‘I do’ when the preacher asked ‘Do you take this woman?’ I knew I was hooked.”
Josh sighed. This, he thought, was why he wanted to wait for the absolute perfect moment to propose to Melissa. Someday he hoped to tell a story that would make everyone who heard it say “Awww,” the way he felt like doing now. “You’re a lucky man, Frank. Not every guy is fortunate enough to find a woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.”
Three lucky men sat at this table tonight, he thought happily. Like Frank and Greg, he had found his perfect match.
Melissa dropped her spoon with a clatter and sprang to her feet. “I, uh— Excuse me,” she muttered, her voice choked. “I’m not feeling well.”
Before Josh or anyone else could ask her what was wrong, she dashed from the room. Concerned, he half rose from his seat, intending to follow her.
“What on earth is wrong with Melissa?” Frank asked in bewilderment.
Words burst from Diana as if she’d held them in as long as she was physically able. “Melissa is pregnant.”
&n
bsp; His knees turning to gelatin, Josh fell back into his chair with a thump.
* * *
After patting her face with a towel, Melissa looked in the bathroom mirror to make sure she’d removed all signs of her bout of tears. She was quite sure Abby would say she was overreacting and being overly dramatic—just like their mom, Abby would say with a shake of her auburn head—but Melissa couldn’t help it. Every time she thought about her life without Josh in it tears welled up behind her eyes and it was all she could do to keep them from gushing out.
Abby had tried to convince her she was only imagining that Josh was trying to find a way to break up with her. As much as she wanted to believe her sister, Melissa was convinced her qualms were well-founded. She knew every expression that crossed Josh’s handsome face. Every flicker of emotion that passed through his clear blue eyes. He had grown increasingly nervous and awkward around her during the past few days, when they had always been so close, so connected, so easy together before. Passion was only a part of their relationship—though certainly a major part. But the mental connection between them was even more special—or at least it had been.
She didn’t know what had gone wrong. Everything had seemed so perfect until Josh’s behavior had suddenly changed. But maybe the questions he had asked her dad tonight had been a clue. Maybe he had concluded that he didn’t really want to spend the rest of his life with her. That only a few men were lucky enough to find “the one.”
She had so hoped she was Josh’s “one.”
Feeling tears threaten again, she drew a deep breath and lifted her chin, ordering herself to reclaim her pride. She would survive losing Josh, she assured herself. Maybe.
Forcing herself to leave Abby’s guest bathroom, she headed for the dining room, expecting to hear conversation and the clinking of silverware and china. Instead what appeared to be stunned silence gripped the five people sitting at the table. Her gaze went instinctively to Josh, finding him staring back at her. His dark blond hair tumbled almost into his eyes, making him look oddly disheveled and perturbed. She realized suddenly that everyone else was gawking at her, too. Did she see sympathy on her father’s face?