Sasha kneaded broad paws on Mickey’s knee, revving her feline motor.
“I bet you didn’t have as much fun as I did.” Mickey felt like an idiot grinning at a cat who couldn’t understand a word she was saying. But she couldn’t seem to quit smiling. Weddings were usually pure torture for her, a colossal reminder of everything God had said no to over and over again for almost a decade now, ever since she’d brought the request for a husband before Him as a serious college grad dating a man who didn’t love her as much as she loved him. Jon Lundholm had kept her hanging on to the hope of a diamond for two years while he played the field at college. The handful of other guys she’d dated had been immature, cocky jocks interested in only one thing—a thing she wasn’t willing to give.
Jon was a nice enough guy, but she’d been stupid enough to try to force him into the “perfect husband” mold she’d patterned after her brothers. After he dumped her, she realized she couldn’t have wedged him inside that mold with a shoehorn. But love was blind and all that.
The chorus of “This Will Be” ambled through her mind, shoving the gloomy thoughts out. She smiled to herself and hummed along. To think she’d almost skipped Jack and Vienne’s reception this afternoon. She shot up a prayer of thanks that she hadn’t. She’d had an absolute blast. And Doug DeVore was mostly the reason why. Scratch that. No mostly about it.
If she closed her eyes, she could picture those blue eyes as he’d laughed down at her while they were dancing. He was a fine, fine dancer, too. And easy on the eyes, with skin bronzed by the sun and his hair bleached to the color of wheat.
She’d never once thought of Doug in that way before today. Of course, until now she’d only known him as a married man—just another father of her daycare kids. She’d always been impressed with the kind of father he was, but seeing him at the dance with Kayeleigh as his date, she’d been charmed all over again. He was so sweet with the gangly almost-teenager. Mickey knew how much that had to mean for a girl who’d lost her mother at an age when mothers were crucial.
Doug had seemed so different tonight. Even though things were a little awkward at first with Wren practically pushing them together, they’d ended up having a great time dancing together. It was fun joking and talking out on the dance floor with him. Not just talking about his kids, either, but real conversation, getting to know each other better than they ever had.
Doug was doing well by his kids. He was exactly the kind of man she wanted to find someday. It bothered her a little—okay, a lot—that he still wore his wedding ring. A recent widower with five kids was not exactly on that list she’d given God for the man of her dreams.
She rubbed her hands together, remembering the warm urgency of Doug’s hand on hers when he’d invited her to go to Salina with him tomorrow. Somehow she didn’t think he’d planned to do that. A warning light went on—again—somewhere in the back of her brain. Maybe she’d been wrong to say yes. She did the math and it shocked her a little to realize that it hadn’t been even four months since Kaye died.
A knot twisted in the pit of her stomach when she thought of what her brothers would say if they found out she was going with Doug tomorrow. Well, she wasn’t stupid. And she wasn’t naive enough to discount that Doug had a lot of grieving left to do. Years’ worth probably.
But it wasn’t like they were talking about getting married here. Surely it couldn’t hurt anything to go to a movie with a friend. It wasn’t like it was a date. After all, they were taking the kids.
Except that had been her idea. And Doug had called it a date. But that was only after she’d made the suggestion. What else was he going to say after she was so coy with him?
She looked out the kitchen window toward the north end of town. The rain had stopped, but the night sky was inky. She couldn’t see beyond the trailing verbena that hung under the porch eaves. Maybe Doug was regretting his invitation by now.
Sighing, she closed the curtains. It was too late to back out now. She’d go with him and the kids tomorrow. McDonald’s and a movie. And they’d probably have a great time. Tomorrow would be about being a friend to Doug and an encouragement to his kids. Nothing more.
It was too soon for anything else—if “anything else” was even a future possibility. And she doubted it was from Doug’s perspective. He was lonely. That was all.
A veil of melancholy settled over her. Why couldn’t the men she was attracted to ever be available? Was that too much to ask?
Doug squirmed in the pew and folded the bulletin in half and then into quarters. If he was nervous yesterday, before the wedding, he was in full panic mode now. What in the world had he been thinking when he asked Miss Mickey on a date? Good grief. Suddenly he couldn’t even think of her outside of the name his kids called her by?
Twisting his wedding ring, he shifted in the pew again. He might technically be a widower, but he couldn’t have felt more married if Kaye were sitting here beside him. So why did he have a date this afternoon?
He’d watched grieving people do stupid things before and wondered what they were thinking. Well, now he knew. They weren’t thinking. Last night he’d been caught up in the relief of the moment—a chance to smile and forget for a few hours about the tragedy that had cut him down.
Kayeleigh had moped the rest of the night over having to leave the dance early, but despite her efforts to ruin the evening, he’d gone to bed last night excited about the plans for this afternoon.
But the minute he’d come awake this morning, he’d begun to second-guess himself. Well, it was too late to back out now.
When the pastor spoke the benediction, he quickly herded the kids out to the foyer. He sent Kayeleigh to pick up Harley in the nursery and hurried the rest of the kids out to the car. His purposeful stride apparently worked. At least no one tried to stop him to offer condolences. Maybe he’d finally reached some magical point in the mourning period where people felt they’d said enough.
Good. Though he knew they were well meaning, he’d grown a little weary of being the object of the town’s sympathy.
He’d asked Harriet to keep Harley again this afternoon. He and Kaye had learned the hard way that a two-year-old was impossible to keep quiet in a movie theater. Even if the film was geared toward kids, Harley would rather make friends with the people in the row behind them. Or, like their last disastrous trip to the movies with her, see how much popcorn she could toss into the pouffy hair of the woman in front of them. The memory made him smile…and caused a fresh wave of longing for the way things used to be.
He forced his mind to shift gears and concentrated on getting everybody buckled into the Suburban. Nowadays, Kayeleigh sat up front with him and the twins shared the backseat, while Landon rode with Harley in the middle bench. He’d have to warn Kayeleigh that she’d be giving up her seat today.
He hadn’t told the kids yet that Mickey was going with them. He hadn’t wanted to answer a bunch of questions. But now that they were minutes from picking her up, he pictured himself answering hard questions in front of her.
Not a pleasant prospect.
As soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, he plunged in. “Listen, guys, as soon as we drop Harley off at Grandma’s, we’re going to go pick up Miss Valdez—Miss Mickey—and she’s going with us to the movie.”
In his rearview mirror the twins exchanged wide-eyed looks and started bouncing on the seats. They clapped and squealed, “Miss Mickey! Miss Mickey!”
“Why’s she going with us?” He barely heard Landon’s low voice over the twins’ noise.
“I invited her. Thought she’d enjoy…the movie.” He met Landon’s skeptical expression in the mirror and turned to Kayeleigh, hoping for support. “Won’t that be fun?”
She leveled a suspicious glare at him. “You have a date with Miss Valdez?” She wrinkled her nose and dangled the question before him like it was one of Harley’s dirty diapers.
He shook his head and glued his eyes to the street. “It’s not a date exactly.” But
what if Mickey referred to it as that? “We just thought it would be fun to do something together today.”
Kayeleigh twisted in her seat, suddenly allies with her brother. “Dad danced with Miss Valdez half the night last night at the wedding.”
“Gross!”
“Cut it out you two. And be nice to Mick—Miss Valdez. I mean it.”
“You’re taking her to McDonald’s? Oh, that’s real cool.” Kayeleigh rolled her eyes in full, sassy-preteen mode—a mood she wore quite regularly lately.
He tried for levity, using a term he’d heard Kayeleigh toss out. “It’s not like it’s a hot date or anything.”
“Daddy, please. Stop talking about it. I don’t even want to think about it.” Kayeleigh shuddered.
This was going to be tougher than he thought.
He made the kids stay in the car while he took Harley in to Harriet’s. Kaye’s mother was still in her church clothes. He set Harley on the floor and she toddled over to the basket of toys Harriet kept by the sofa.
Handing Harriet the diaper bag, he backed toward the door. “She’ll probably take a long nap this afternoon. We should be back by six or seven at the latest.” He patted his pocket. “Call my cell if you need me.”
“We’ll be fine.” Harriet spoke in clipped tones and avoided his eyes. If he hadn’t had such a warm conversation with her when he picked up the kids last night, he would have thought she was mad at him.
“Is everything all right? I-I hope I’m not taking advantage of your offer to keep the kids. If I am—”
“I’ll tell you what you’re taking advantage of.” Kaye’s mother straightened to her full five-foot-nine height and looked him in the eye. “My daughter’s reputation.”
Uh-oh. This couldn’t be good. “What are you talking about, Harriet?”
Harriet’s moods had always kept their lives interesting, but she was beyond moody right now. Propping her hands on her hips, she let him have it with both barrels. “Rumors are flying all over town about you and that Valdez girl at the reception last night.”
He steeled himself for the worst. “Exactly what kind of rumors?”
“Did you take her to the dance?”
“No, Harriet. I took Kayeleigh. I took my daughter to the dance.”
“But you danced with Mickey Valdez.” It wasn’t a question.
“I did.” His defenses shot up, but he worked to keep his voice even. “I wasn’t aware it was a crime to dance with a friend.”
“Well, from what I’ve been hearing, you two were”—her face flushed crimson and she looked away—“you were all over each other.”
“What? Who in the Sam Hill did you hear that from?” This was crazy. But then, he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d grown up with the rumor mills of small-town life.
“I heard it from everybody, that’s who.” Harriet’s voice rose. “The phone’s been ringing off the hook ever since I got home from church this morning.”
That probably meant she’d had one phone call, but Harriet wasn’t going to let this go. “Not to mention the way people were looking at me during the service this morning. I’ve half a mind to take the phone off the hook.”
He resisted the urge to expound on her half-a-mind comment. Still, even if she’d received one call, it was one too many. “Who called you? I want to know what’s being said, because if it included that Mickey and I were ‘all over each other,’ I can put that rumor to rest right now.”
“I’m not going to say who it was, Douglas, but it was somebody who was there and saw it with her own eyes, and Clara does not—” Harriet clapped a hand over her mouth.
He rolled his eyes. Clara Berger. He should have figured as much. Kaye always said Clara’s motto was: Spread the gossip first, verify later. Well, if that was the juiciest morsel the old bag could come up with, she needed to move out of Clayburn.
“Harriet, I don’t know what that woman told you, but I assure you nobody was all over anybody. I had Kayeleigh with me, for Pete’s sake. You think I’m going to act like that?” Shaking his head, he let his words trail off. It didn’t pay to argue over something like this. But he also needed to do some major damage control.
He took a deep breath. “I danced with Mickey a couple of times. And you may as well know that she’s going to Salina with the kids and me this afternoon.”
“She’s what?” Harriet put a hand to her throat. “You mean, you have a date with her?” Her face went pale, and for a minute Doug thought she might faint.
“We’re grabbing lunch at McDonald’s and taking the kids to see a movie. That’s it. For crying out loud, she’s the kids’ daycare teacher.” Why did he feel compelled to reassure everyone that this was not a date, when he’d conceded to Mickey that it was?
Harriet looked at the floor and shook her head. “I can’t believe you would do this to Kaye. She’s barely been gone”—she choked on the word—“a few months and you’ve already moved on. I simply cannot believe you would behave like this. Disgrace the mother of your children this way.”
“Harriet. Stop it.”
Harley looked up from the plastic toy she was chewing on, her little blond eyebrows knit. “Da-da?”
“It’s okay, sweetie.” He forced his adrenaline to a noncrisis level and reached to put a soothing hand on Harriet’s arm—more for Harley’s sake than Harriet’s. But she jerked out from under his touch.
He took a step back. “I’m sorry you feel this way. We can talk about it later, if you like. The kids are waiting in the car….”
Did other people think he’d made a fool of himself at that dance? Certainly, if Mickey had been Kaye, there would have been nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of. But maybe others saw things differently. He gestured weakly toward the driveway, where the Suburban idled. “I need to get going.”
She turned her back on him. “Go, then. Just go.”
Doug wasn’t sure which was more difficult: resisting the urge to haul his daughter out to the car for a good talking-to or resisting the urge to hug Mickey.
Chapter Fifteen
Mickey stared out the window, grasping for something to say. What had happened to the easy banter they’d found so quickly at the reception last night?
Sarah and Sadie chattered away in the backseat of the Suburban, but the silence from the middle seat was deafening. Kayeleigh and Landon got into a punching match shortly after they picked her up, and Doug threatened to make them stay in the car at McDonald’s. Apparently they’d chosen to avoid such a punishment by not speaking, although Mickey suspected it was more than that with Kayeleigh. The girl had avoided her eyes from the minute she’d climbed in the car. She’d gotten the same vibe in the car yesterday. But maybe she was being a typical surly twelve-year-old.
“It’s hotter than I thought today,” Doug said. He reached for the dashboard controls. “You cool enough?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” She adjusted her seatbelt and crossed her legs.
“I hear this is a good movie. Reviewers are saying it’s even entertaining for parents—adults, I mean.” His Adam’s apple bounced, and he turned and glued his eyes on the highway.
“Yeah, I heard that, too.” She didn’t want to tell him she’d already seen the film with her brothers’ kids in Salina last weekend.
“Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.” She was starving. She’d been trying to drop the five pounds she’d gained over the Christmas holidays, but right now a cheese-burger sounded like just the ticket. If she really cared about making an impression—or losing those extra pounds—she’d opt for a salad.
In the McDonald’s parking lot, she helped Doug get the kids inside and settled at a table.
“Everybody want the usual? Mickey, how about you?”
“I’ll have…oh, make it a salad with Ranch dressing.” She’d make up for it with popcorn and Milk Duds at the movie. “And a Diet Coke, please.”
“You got it. Be right back.” He motioned for Landon. “Come and help me carry s
tuff, buddy.”
While they waited, the twins doled out the ketchup packets and straws and napkins Kayeleigh had collected from the counter.
“How’s school going, Kayeleigh?”
Not meeting Mickey’s eyes, she gave an abbreviated shrug of her slender shoulders. “Okay, I guess.”
“You sound like you’re ready for summer.”
Another shrug.
Mickey took the hint and quit trying to spark a conversation. Thankfully, Doug and Landon soon appeared with trays piled high. Mickey helped the twins with straws for their drinks.
Doug hadn’t finished the “amen” of his blessing when the first Coke spilled. It was Sadie’s, and she dissolved into tears.
Mickey jumped from her seat and started sopping up the icy mess with her napkin. “It’s okay, Sadie. Nothing to cry about. Come here. Did your shirt get wet?”
She quickly cleared off one of the trays and scooped the spill off the table. The mess was mostly cleaned up when she became aware of Doug watching her. At first she was worried that his expression was disapproval for her usurping his authority.
But his frown quickly turned into a grin. “Nicely done. Thanks.”
“Hey, this is what I do for a living.”
“Well, I didn’t invite you along to clean up our messes.”
She returned his smile. “It’s instinct. I can’t just turn it off when I walk out of the daycare, I guess.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “That’s fine by me. Swab away.”
She laughed, happy a spilled Coke had broken the ice.
But a few minutes later, when they were clearing off the table and getting ready to leave, she picked up a table tent advertising the movie they were planning to see. The illustration on the placard brought a scene from the movie to her memory—a scene of a family of mice losing their mother to a raging forest fire.
Only the week before, her four-year-old nephew had wept on Mickey’s shoulder in the theater. She’d been a little choked up herself. Glancing at the colorful illustration again, she realized why. The scene had made her think of Kaye and Rachel—of how the DeVore kids had lost their mother.
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