Let's Get Mommy Married

by Marie Ferrarella

  Chris looked dubious. “She could have called the Soda Shoppe.”

  Rosemary looked chagrined. She’d been so eager to absolve Mary, she’d overlooked that. “That’s right, she could have. Maybe she was just too worried about her son to think of it.”

  She could remember several times when Danny had been horribly ill and she had been beside herself with worry. She’d let a great many things slide then.

  “Maybe,” he agreed. But he hadn’t come over to discuss an elusive date who hadn’t materialized. He was here for another reason. “Rosemary—”

  He had a look in his eyes that she wasn’t too sure she wanted to explore.

  “Anyway,” she hurried on as if he hadn’t interrupted. “I’d like to set up another date for the two of you.”

  He looked at her patiently. “To have another, I would have had to have a first.” Studying the intent look on her face, he paused. She was being serious. “And this time she’ll show?”

  “She’ll show.” Rosemary made it sound as though she guaranteed it. Why wouldn’t the woman show? She was being given a second chance, Rosemary thought. Still, she couldn’t help crossing her fingers mentally.

  One look at his face told her that she hadn’t really convinced him.

  “Say, why don’t you take her to that classic film showing you mentioned the other day? You know, the one at the university on Friday night? According to her form, she really likes old movies.”

  Yes, I know. “Friday’s only two days away. Can you set it up that fast?”

  It wouldn’t be easy, but she could manage. “I don’t see a problem,” she said a bit more cheerfully than was necessary. “They don’t have a telephone, but—”

  Chris looked amused. “Planning on using smoke signals?”

  “Very funny. No, a note.” He was interested. She could tell. Rosemary talked quickly, not wanting to lose the momentum. “The post office box is a local one. I can stop by and drop off the letter myself on my way to pick up Danny at school this afternoon. She’ll get it by tomorrow morning.” Running out of breath, Rosemary looked at him hopefully. “What do you say?”

  “All right, if you’re sure she’ll come. I guess I can give it another shot.” He looked at her. “I don’t seem to be seeing anyone right now.”

  She felt a definite pang at his words. If there hadn’t been such an immense wall within her, such a stumbling block, she might have been able to surmount it and get to the other side.

  And to Chris.

  No, she had to stop thinking like that. She was setting him up with a very nice woman who seemed to be his perfect match in every way except punctuality. It would all work out to everyone’s satisfaction.

  Well, maybe not to everyone’s, but she wasn’t going to think about that.

  Rosemary saw an action figure Danny had forgotten lying under the coffee table. She bent down and picked it up, placing it on top. That was all she needed, for the puppy to swallow a toy and have to be rushed off to the vet at some ungodly hour.

  She realized that Chris was just standing there, his head cocked slightly to the side, studying her. She felt uncomfortable again.

  “What?”

  The bag’s drawstring around his wrist, he pushed his hands into his front pockets. “Something just occurred to me. You do this sort of matchmaking service for money, don’t you?”

  She had already told him about all that. Why did he think she had advertised on his show? “Yes,” she answered cautiously.

  “And this Mary Smith isn’t paying you.” He spoke as if his words were building blocks and he was slowly piling them one on top of another with an end structure in mind.

  “No, finding her a match was part of the contest,” Rosemary reminded him.

  He nodded. “And I’m not paying you.”

  “No, of course not.” She was roping him into this. How could she be asking him for money? What was he getting at?

  He knew he was baiting her. But it was fun to tease her. She looked so intense. “Then why are you so determined to set this up?”

  That was simple enough, at least for her—no, she amended, at least as far as he was concerned. It got a little more complicated for her.

  “It’s a matter of honor and principle now,” she told him. “I like to live up to commitments and I did promise Tommy a date for his mother.”

  She looked adorable when she was being noble. “Okay, you talked me into it.”

  Impulsively, she hugged him. She thought it was safe. “You’re wonderful.”

  His arms closed around her and she realized that safe was not a word to use around him just yet. “I keep trying to tell you.”

  She felt something thud against her back. The bag he had brought with him. Curiosity finally got the better of her. She released her hold on him and stepped back. “What’s that?”

  He’d almost forgotten. “Oh, I brought you a gift.” Chris offered the bag to her.

  She looked at the bag. It was from a local shoe store. But he might have just been using it. “You mean for Rocky, don’t you?”

  He shook his head, offering it to her. “No, I mean for you. It’s not so much a gift as a replacement, really.”

  He really had her curiosity aroused. She took the bag from him and opened it. There was a shoe box inside. Her curiosity growing, she took the box out and then opened it.

  Since it was a shoe box in a bag from a local shoe store, she shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw shoes in it. But she was.

  He had brought her a pair of very stylish athletic shoes. They were too fancy to be called sneakers, like the pair she’d just thrown out.

  Rosemary took one out and held it up. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because one of the puppies ate your sneaker.”

  Rosemary laughed. Her shoes had to have been at least five years old, if not more. “They were old and tough. The puppy probably had indigestion.” She tried to give him the box back. “I can’t accept this.”

  But he wouldn’t take it. “Yes, you can.” His voice lowered and became incredibly sensual. “It’s not as if I brought you lingerie or anything personal. They’re for your feet. Running shoes.”

  They would be completely wasted on her. She didn’t use shoes for anything but walking, and besides, she tended toward thrift market bargains, not expensive sports marts. “But I don’t run,” she protested.

  Very carefully, he closed the lid on the box and placed her hands around it. Chris pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yeah, you do. Keep them. It’ll assuage my conscience.”

  The last gift she’d received from a man had been from Patrick. She didn’t know how to react. Or if she should even accept them.

  “But-”

  He arched a brow. “If you give them back, I’m pulling out of the deal.”

  She had a feeling that he would, too. Rosemary sighed, tucking the box under her arm. “All right, you drive a hard bargain.”

  Her choice of words made him laugh. “Not yet, but I might.”

  She wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but had a feeling that she should let it go. She held the box up and checked the size on the side. It was the right one. “How did you know my size?”

  “I asked Danny.”

  That didn’t answer anything. “And he knew?” Danny didn’t even know his own shoe size—how had he known hers?

  She knew her son, he thought with a grin. “No, he didn’t know, but he fished the chewed-up sneaker out of the garbage for me. I took it to the shoe store.” He made it sound as if that was a completely normal thing to do.

  That must have been a pretty sight. Rosemary could just picture what the salesman had thought, handling a ripe sneaker fresh out of the garbage.

  She remembered how annoyed she’d been when she had found the garbage lid off and the trash upset. “And here I thought it was the dog that had made such a mess.”

  Chris laughed and threaded his arm around her easily as he walked toward the door. “That’s why people hav
e dogs, Rosemary. They make wonderful companions and terrific scapegoats. You can blame them for practically everything.”

  Very carefully, because she liked it too much and didn’t want to, Rosemary eased out from beneath his arm. “All right, so it’s a date?” She saw the surprised look enter his eyes. “For you and Mary, I mean,” she added quickly.

  He dug deep for a helping of patience. “I already said yes.”

  She needed details to tell Mary. “What time does the movie start?”

  “Seven.” Showings always began at seven o’clock. There were only two shows and he always caught the first one, too tired because of his work schedule to stay up for the second showing.

  She tried to recall what he had told her originally. “And it’s at the Berkeley theater?” He nodded. “You’ll be waiting for her outside.” It wasn’t exactly a question so much as a hopeful statement.

  “I’ll be waiting outside,” he repeated. “She looks like you, right?”

  Rosemary thought of the description on the form, not noticing the way he had looked at her when he asked. It was uncanny that she and Mary were the same height and coloring. And exactly the same age. But then, everyone had at least one twin and she supposed that Mary Smith might be hers.

  “Yes, but I’ll have her holding a flower, like last time.”

  “There was no last time,” he reminded her.

  He had forgotten, she thought. “That’s what I told her to be holding when I arranged it. I mean, lots of people look alike and wear the same colors, but how many are going to be holding a white flower?”

  He grinned, toying with the earring that she wore. He hit it with the tip of his finger and the hoop swayed to and fro. “I don’t know. How many?”

  God, he was standing too close to her again. Why did the last five inches around the perimeter of her body always change the situation from pleasant to scary? Deliciously so, but scary nonetheless.

  She stilled the earring with her hand. But not the shivers that persisted afterward.

  “None.” Rosemary looked down at the shoes again and flushed. “You really didn’t have to replace them, you know.”

  “Just say ‘thank you, Chris,’” he prompted goodnaturedly.

  She hugged the box to her as he opened the door and stepped outside. “Thank you, Chris,” she parroted.

  “See, it wasn’t so hard.” Impulsively, he dove his fingers into her hair and began to lower his mouth to hers.

  Her eyes almost fluttered shut before she came to her senses. Alarms the size of the bell at Notre Dame went off in her head.

  “Thank you. See you later.” And with that, the door suddenly closed in his face.

  “Maybe it’s harder than I thought,” Chris muttered to himself.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked back to his house. And pondered on his upcoming date with the elusive Mary Smith.

  8

  “No, absolutely not.” Rosemary looked at Danny, surprised that he’d even suggest such a thing.

  Her protest ricocheted around the kitchen. Teri had left to pick up the twins and go home with them. Rosemary had hoped to work on a few more files, but her concentration had completely shattered when Danny had come up to her and asked if they could go to the same movie theater where Chris was scheduled to meet with Mary Smith.

  Talk about déjô vu. This had Mother’s Day written all over it.

  Rosemary pushed back her chair and got up. The work would keep until after dinner. She could do with a sizable break.

  Unwilling to give up so easily, Danny followed her into the living room. Rocky dashed after his heels, ready to play. But at the moment Danny was far more interested in the conversation he was having with his mother than his beloved puppy.

  Rosemary began straightening up. Danny tugged on her sleeve for her undivided attention. “But, Mom, what if she doesn’t show up again? Then Chris’ll be all alone.”

  Danny was giving voice to exactly the same thoughts that she had been having. What if this Mary person didn’t show up again? Then this guilty feeling she was carrying around with her would be twice as large.

  Rosemary had been convinced that Mary Smith would definitely turn up this time. When she’d returned from a quick errand this morning, there’d even been a call from Mary saying she would be at the theater tonight. Teri had taken the message and given it to her as soon as she’d come in.

  But as the hour of the date approached, Rosemary felt herself growing uneasy.

  If Chris were stood up again, it would be all her fault. Mary might be the one who didn’t show, but she would be the one in the doghouse, so to speak, she thought, glancing at Rocky.

  “She’ll show, Danny,” Rosemary insisted. She sounded far less convinced than she wanted to.

  Danny moved his dog to one side. He drew closer to his mother. “But if she doesn’t, won’t you feel guilty?” He said the word with three times as much feeling as he did the others.

  Rosemary looked at him sharply. “Thanks, I needed that.” She’d never lied to Danny or put him off. Now wasn’t the time to start.

  “Yes,” she admitted, albeit reluctantly. “I probably will, at that.” They both knew there was no “probably” about it. She was a pushover when it came to other people’s feelings.

  Danny spread his hands dramatically, the way he’d seen Teri do. “Well, there you go. If we’re there to make him feel better about it, it’ll be okay.” He thought he saw his mother wavering for a minute. “I know Chris, Mom. He’s a nice guy. I can talk to him about Rocky and you can talk to him about that Ronald McDonald guy.”

  Now he had really gotten her attention. Her eyes narrowed. “Who?”

  “In the movie,” Danny told her impatiently. “You know, the guy you said liked listening to. The guy with the voice.”

  “Ronald Coleman?”

  Danny nodded in response. “Yeah, him.”

  Rosemary could only stare at Danny, dumbfounded. Sometimes she mentioned actors from the old movies that she liked. Occasionally she even made Danny watch old movies on tape or on one of the cable channels in an attempt to expose him to something a little broader than Saturday morning heroes. But she hadn’t really thought that any of it had sunk in.

  Apparently so.

  The movie playing at the college theater was A Tale of Two Cities. Prompted by curiosity, she had found it listed in the entertainment section of the paper. But what was Danny’s reason for looking?

  “How do you know what’s playing in the movie?”

  For just a moment Danny looked flustered, then he shrugged in that careless, little boy fashion he had when things really didn’t concern him. “Chris told me yesterday, while we were working with Rocky. He said it was one of his favorites.”

  Something else they had in common, she thought.

  Struggling, she tried to keep her mind on straightening the room. It seemed that the house always needed straightening. She supposed if it didn’t, she’d be living alone and miserable. Neat, but miserable. It had its compensations.

  Danny was shifting from foot to foot, as if he thought the debate was still alive and he had a chance of winning it.

  “Well, then he won’t mind being alone,” she said firmly.

  Danny opened his mouth and then shut it again. He actually looked stumped for a minute. But only for a minute. “Um, I thought that since you like this Ronald guy and Chris likes him—”

  She tossed the decorative pillow back where it belonged on the sofa. “Wait a minute. Chris likes him, too?”

  Danny’s head bobbed up and down so hard it seemed as if it weren’t really connected to his neck. “Uh-huh. That’s what he said.” He brightened, knowing he was on the right trail. “Anyway, since you both like him, I thought that maybe I should see him, too.”

  Nice try. She picked up the other cushion, fluffing it. Maybe she could try applying rubber cement to keep the pillows in place. “You have.” She tucked it into place. “I made you watch Lost Horizon, remembe
r?” She’d all but tied him down. She’d given up after an hour. He just wasn’t interested.

  Danny looked at her solemnly. “No, I don’t remember.”

  She turned to face him. “Sure you do, it was when…” Her voice trailed off as temptation began to erode her resistance.

  This was really against her better judgment. But she had to admit that she was curious about the woman who sounded so much like her. And she really did love A Tale of Two Cities. Seeing it on the wide screen would be a treat. It had been a long time between treats.

  Rosemary pressed her lips together, debating with herself.

  Danny knew he was winning. His eyes fairly danced. “Can we go? Can we, Mom? Can we?”

  At any moment she expected him to start jumping up and down, the way Rocky did when he offered her a treat. He looked so cute, she felt herself weakening completely. “It’ll end past your bedtime.”

  He was prepared for that one. “It’s not a school night. Today’s Friday. I can get extra sleep in the morning.”

  She eyed the dog, who was sitting with her bottom planted on the floor, wagging her tail. It thumped in rhythm against the rug.

  “You have to let Rocky out in the morning. That was the deal. And then feed her.” Though she was tempted to let him sleep in, Rosemary knew that giving him responsibility was important in the long run. She just had to remain strong about it and not let her natural tendency to take over overwhelm them both.

  He wasn’t about to protest or argue. She might change her mind if he did. “Right. I’ll let her out, feed her and then get more sleep. Please, Mom? Please?”

  He looked as if he was going to be crushed if she said no. Oh, well, what would it hurt? “Why does it mean so much to you?”

  Like a racehorse in sight of the finish line, he poured everything he had into his answer. “‘Cause I want to see this movie you like. And I like Chris. And we haven’t been out to see anything in a while. And-”

  She held up her hand to stop the flood of words. “Okay, okay. I surrender. We’ll go.”

  Hannibal, completing his journey over the Alps with the elephants, couldn’t have looked more happy. “Great, I’ll go tell Chris.”