Welcome to Serenity

by Sherryl Woods

  For once she was grateful for his brisk, no-nonsense approach to a crisis. She could recall many times when she’d wanted and needed sympathy, only to get practical advice and concrete solutions. At the time it had seemed like a flaw. Today it was reassuring.

  “Thanks, Sonny.”

  “No problem, sugar. You stay put.”

  Twenty minutes later, a tow truck pulled up, followed by Sonny.

  “I figured you’d want the car towed to the dealership,” he said. “And that would leave you without a way to get home.”

  She eyed him warily as he actually got out and held the door for her, something few other men she’d met bothered to do anymore.

  “It’ll also give you plenty of time to gloat,” she said as she settled onto the luxurious leather seat, which she was forced to admit was more comfortable than her own.

  He grinned. “I hadn’t planned to, but I can if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “No, please don’t,” she said.

  Once he’d spoken to the driver of the tow truck, he climbed back behind the wheel of his car. “You okay?”

  “Just annoyed,” she said. “There’s no telling how long it’ll take to get the car fixed.”

  “I’ll give you a loaner, no problem,” Sonny said.

  She frowned at him. “Why are you being so nice?”

  He frowned at the question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “It just seems weird, given all the water under the bridge. I mean, I know we agreed to get along when Rory Sue’s home for Christmas, but this is above and beyond.”

  His gaze leveled with hers. “Why’d you call me if you were anticipating nothing but grief?”

  She fidgeted for a minute before admitting, “Because I knew I could count on you.”

  “Well, there you go,” he said. “Good ol’ Sonny Lewis to the rescue, as always.”

  Mary Vaughn heard an unexpectedly bitter note in his voice. She’d upset him, which was the very last thing she’d intended. She’d thought she was paying him a compliment. She reached over and covered his hand, which was gripping the steering wheel too tightly. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  She thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe for everything I put you through.”

  “Don’t,” he said harshly, shaking off her hand. “Don’t apologize when you don’t really even know what it’s for.”

  She sat back and stared straight ahead, her stomach churning at the realization that she’d inadvertently hurt him yet again. Every few minutes, she stole a glance at him. His jaw was set, his mouth turned down.

  “I really am sorry,” she whispered.

  He muttered an oath, then glanced her way. “Don’t beat yourself up. You know, I go along thinking I’ve put all the pieces of my life back together, that my life is really good. Then it hits me that you still have the power to cut right through me. I don’t like it, Mary Vaughn. I don’t like what that says about me.”

  “It says more about me,” she returned mildly. “That I would keep doing things to hurt you when you’ve been nothing but wonderful to me our whole lives. I don’t like feeling that thoughtless and selfish, either.”

  He didn’t respond, didn’t jump in to tell her that she wasn’t either thoughtless or selfish, as he might have done in the past. He let the words just hang there, undisputed. It hurt, but she couldn’t deny the truth of what she’d said and obviously he wasn’t willing to do it anymore, either.

  “Do you think it’s possible to change?” she asked. “I mean, old as we are, do you really think a person can stop bad habits?”

  “Sure,” he said at once. “At least, I want to believe it’s possible.”

  “Me, too.”

  He turned into the lot at his dealership. The anger and vulnerability vanished behind his more familiar smiling mask, no doubt for the benefit of his employees and any customers who might be around. “Come inside and I’ll get you set up with that loaner.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

  His scowl returned. “Don’t be an idiot. You need a car. I have cars. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t have to get complicated.”

  “Okay, then,” she said briskly. “I’ll pay you, of course.”

  His scowl deepened. “You’re testing my patience, Mary Vaughn.”

  “Lunch?” she suggested, instead. “Dinner? Can I at least do that?”

  He looked as if he was waging an internal war with himself, but he finally sighed and nodded. “Lunch would be great.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  She grinned at his evident reluctance. “I promise to make it painless,” she said lightly.

  “Don’t go making promises you can’t keep, sugar. I’ll see you tomorrow at noon. Sullivan’s? Or do you feel like driving over to that diner you used to like for some real Southern cooking?”

  “You’d probably rather have a burger at Wharton’s,” she said.

  “Under other circumstances, yes,” he agreed.

  “You mean with anyone other than me.”

  “You have to admit, the whole town will be speculating if we walk into Wharton’s together, including my father.”

  “It won’t be the first time I’ve stirred up gossip,” she reminded him. “I can handle it if you can.”

  He regarded her speculatively, then shrugged. “Okay, then. Wharton’s it is.”

  Satisfied, Mary Vaughn gave him an impulsive peck on the cheek, then walked out. She wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened between her and Sonny, but suddenly it felt like a whole lot more than agreeing to some kind of thank-you lunch.

  * * *

  The next day Mary Vaughn sucked in a deep breath, then walked into Wharton’s and marched straight to a prime booth right in front of the window. If she and Sonny were going to have this little get-together in gossip central, they might as well be in plain view. Hiding in back would only stir up more speculation.

  Grace Wharton arrived before Mary Vaughn could slide all the way into her seat and studied her with undisguised curiosity. “Don’t see much of you in here at lunchtime, at least not all by yourself,” she said as she set a menu on the Formica-topped table.

  “Someone’s joining me,” Mary Vaughn said, oddly reluctant to admit that it was Sonny. She was the one who’d claimed not to give two figs about stirring up gossip, but all of a sudden she wondered if it wasn’t a bad idea. For one thing, as Sonny had reminded her, Howard was a regular here at lunchtime, along with several of his cronies. At least at Sullivan’s most of the lunch customers were day-trippers who’d read about the restaurant in one of the regional magazines. And if they’d driven to that diner, it was doubtful they’d have seen anyone they knew.

  “A client, I imagine,” Grace said, setting another menu at the place across from her.

  Mary Vaughn lifted her chin and met Grace’s gaze. Grace was a wonderful woman who prided herself on knowing everything that was going on in town. She knew it because she paid attention and asked intrusive questions. Amazingly, no one in town held it against her. That didn’t mean Mary Vaughn had to cooperate.

  “I’d like a glass of sweet tea, please,” she told Grace. “And you can go ahead and bring a diet soda for my friend.”

  Normally her deliberate evasiveness would have piqued Grace’s curiosity to the point that she’d try a few more questions, but for some reason today, she just hurried away to fill the order.

  Not two minutes later, just as Grace was putting the drinks on the table, Sonny walked in, removed his sunglasses and took a minute to allow his eyes to adjust. His hair was a little windblown, which told Mary Vaughn that he’d borrowed a convertible from the lot for the drive. She’d always thought he looked sexy as the dickens when his hair was m
ussed, his sleeves rolled up and his shirt open at the collar as it was now. Once again, she felt that funny little jolt of awareness that made her feel suddenly self-conscious with a man she’d known almost all her life.

  “Well, will you look at what the cat dragged in,” Grace said, glancing from him to Mary Vaughn. “He’s probably here to meet his daddy.”

  Mary Vaughn didn’t reply, in part because she couldn’t seem to get a word past the unexpected lump in her throat. Damn, he was good-looking. She’d always known that, but it had never kicked her pulse into gear the way it seemed to be doing today.

  When Sonny headed straight for Mary Vaughn’s booth right by the front window, Grace inhaled sharply and murmured, “Well, I’ll be,” then whirled around and rushed away, no doubt to spread the word far and wide that Mary Vaughn and Sonny Lewis were about to break bread together, and that they were acting perfectly civilized. Wharton’s would be packed within the next half hour with people wanting a glimpse of the two of them. Bets would be wagered before the end of the day on what it all meant. Mary Vaughn sighed.

  “You were right. This was probably a bad idea,” she told Sonny.

  He shrugged, as unconcerned today as she’d been the night before. “It’s Serenity, sugar. Talkin’ is what people do.”

  “Do you really want them talking about us?”

  “Nothing new in that,” he reminded her. “Are you ready to order? I need to get back for my sales meeting.”

  Mary Vaughn was feeling too uncomfortable to even glance at the chalkboard with the day’s specials on it. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  “Cheeseburger with fries?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  Normally she ate a container of yogurt or a salad for lunch unless she was dining with a client. She hadn’t had a burger in a year.

  “A burger sounds perfect,” she said, throwing caution to the wind. Today seemed the day for it.

  “And fries?” Sonny asked again, as if he still couldn’t quite believe his ears.

  “And fries.”

  A smile spread across his face. “You remember what we were talking about last night, about people being able to change?”

  “Of course.”

  “Sugar, if you’ll order a milk shake with that, then you’ll make a true believer out of me.”

  She frowned at his teasing. “It’s lunch, not a conversion.”

  “After watching you nibble on lettuce leaves most of our adult lives, this is noteworthy,” he insisted.

  “You won’t be so pleased by that when my hips start looking like two watermelons stuffed into a pair of pants.”

  “You know, Mary Vaughn, that’s just one more thing you never understood about me. You’re a beautiful woman, no doubt about it, but I always loved who you were, not how you looked.”

  She regarded him with skepticism. Before she could argue with him, though, Howard walked into Wharton’s took one look at them and gaped.

  “Never expected to find you two sitting here all cozy,” he said. “You here to talk about our Christmas plans with Rory Sue?”

  Mary Vaughn left the explanation to Sonny.

  “Nope,” he told his father. “We’re on a date.”

  Even though her heart took an unexpected lurch at his ridiculous claim, Mary Vaughn scowled at her ex-husband. “We are not.”

  He grinned. “What would you call it?”

  “A mistake,” she suggested dryly.

  Howard beamed at them. “Well, whatever it is, it’s good to see the two of you together. Rory Sue would be mighty pleased if she could see you.”

  “Don’t you say a word to Rory Sue about this,” Mary Vaughn said.

  “That’s right, Daddy,” Sonny admonished. “You keep this to yourself. We don’t want her getting ideas. She’ll just wind up being disappointed.”

  Howard gave his son a penetrating look. “You so sure about that? I never did understand why the two of you split up in the first place. You never gave me an explanation that made a lick of sense.”

  “Because it was none of your business,” Sonny said flatly. “Go on and meet your friends, Daddy. Their eyes are practically bugging out from staring over here. You might as well fill them in on what the two of us are doing here together.”

  Howard regarded him with obvious frustration. “I don’t know why you’re here together.”

  Mary Vaughn gave him her sweetest smile. “Then you won’t have too much to say, will you? You can move right on to other, more interesting topics.”

  “You’re still full of sass and vinegar, aren’t you?” For once, Howard’s tone was almost admiring.

  “I do try to be,” she told him.

  “Well, whatever you’re doing here, enjoy yourselves,” Howard said and walked away to join his friends.

  “Well, that was awkward,” Mary Vaughn said.

  Sonny’s eyes, however, were glinting with humor. “But you have to admit it was kind of fun to get him all riled up. Daddy hates being out of the loop when it comes to family, and now he’s convinced we’re keeping something from him.”

  “An interesting perspective,” Mary Vaughn agreed. “After all the times your daddy was on my case about one thing or another, including all his objections to the two of us getting married in the first place, I have to admit it’s downright rewarding to see him hoping we’ll get back together. I figured he’d go to his grave still thanking God we’d gotten a divorce.”

  For an instant, Sonny looked stunned. “You think that’s what he wants? For us to get back together?”

  “I think he wants his granddaughter to be happy, and us getting back together is what she wants.”

  “Uh-oh,” Sonny said, looking disconcerted.

  Mary Vaughn laughed at his expression. “You scared your daddy’s going to start meddling?”

  “He’s not above it,” Sonny predicted direly. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t be so amused. My father almost always gets what he sets his mind to.”

  Mary Vaughn felt a tiny shiver go through her. She couldn’t be sure if it was out of fear...or anticipation.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Jeanette slipped into Sullivan’s through the kitchen door, made a dash across the room and peeked into the dining room to see if Tom and his awful mother had been seated yet.

  “Not that I don’t love to see you under any circumstances,” Erik commented. “But do you want to tell me why you’re in my kitchen, instead of out there with the other diners?”

  “Tom’s mother,” she said in a low voice.

  “You checking her out?” he asked, his expression bewildered.

  “No need for that,” Jeanette said. “I already know the old harridan.”

  Erik’s lips twitched. “Does Tom have any idea what a high opinion you have of his mother?”

  “He does,” she said, then pulled out a stool and sat down. “And can you believe he wants us to have lunch together, anyway?”

  Erik didn’t even try to contain a chuckle. He pointed toward the dining room. “Out of my kitchen. I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

  “Dana Sue would let me stay,” she said.

  “Dana Sue’s not here. I’m in charge.”

  She frowned at him. “Does being in charge always make you mean?”

  “You’ll have to ask Karen or Dana Sue about that. Or maybe Helen. Of course, this kitchen is the one place she never seemed to mind taking orders from me.” He sighed dramatically. “Now that we’re married she never listens to me at all.”

  “If I could spare the time, I’d feel real sorry for you,” she said. “But I’m having my own pity party here.”

  “No,” he corrected, “you’re having it out there. My kitchen’s off-limits. Go.”

  “If you say so, bu
t I’m warning you not to serve us with the good china or crystal. Some of it’s likely to end up broken before we’re through today.”

  “Be sure you give me a heads-up before you start throwing things. I’d like to evacuate the other customers.” His expression turned wicked. “Or charge ’em extra for the floor show. Now, go.”

  “You are not a very sympathetic man,” Jeanette told him, but she reluctantly left the kitchen and headed toward the table where Tom and his mother were just being seated.

  Tom’s expression brightened the instant he saw her, which she figured was going to be the high point of the meal. After his mother caught sight of her, things were likely to slide downhill.

  “Where’d you come from?” Tom asked, pulling out a chair for her.

  “I stopped in the kitchen to speak to Erik,” she fibbed.

  Mrs. McDonald gave her a sour look. “Probably told him to lace my food with arsenic,” she murmured.

  “Mother!” Tom chided.

  Jeanette gave her a cheery smile. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

  Tom frowned at her. “Jeanette!”

  To Jeanette’s surprise, his mother’s lips almost curved into a smile, though she quickly hid it by taking a sip of water. That tiny hint of approval, though, gave Jeanette hope. Maybe Mrs. McDonald was one of those perverse women who liked stirring the pot, but liked it even better if someone else responded by adding a little spice instead of backing down. It was entirely possible she admired a woman with spunk. Well, she had spunk to spare.

  “Erik’s made a wonderful broccoli quiche today,” she told them. “He was just taking one out of the oven when I was in there.”

  “I’ve never understood the appeal of quiche,” Mrs. McDonald said.

  “The meat loaf is a favorite,” Jeanette said, doing her best to remain upbeat. “And, of course, no one does a better job with fish.”

  “She’s right,” Tom said. “I’ve had both and can highly recommend either one. I think today’s special is steamed sea bass with julienne vegetables. I’m having that. Mother, what looks good to you?”