Dinah laughed. "Thanks." Then, because talking about it with someone who wasn't related to herself or Jeremy felt so good, she said, "Speaking of my guest ... Well, he's younger than me."
Priscilla raised her jet black eyebrows a fraction. "Now that's interesting."
That didn't sound good. "Do you think that's bad?"
"Not at all. I think if you have found someone who you like being with, and he feels the same way, you should hold onto him tight."
Dinah laughed. "Ever felt that way?"
She raised a shoulder. "Once or twice."
"And ... now?" she prodded, recalling the fireworks that Jeremy had said had been going on between Payton and Priscilla.
Priscilla looked taken aback. "Now? Gosh, who knows. I'm enormously attracted to a guy who dresses better than most women, who can lie at the drop of a hat, and who has the whitest teeth of anyone I've ever met."
"That's quite a lot to deal with."
"Tell me about it! And ... he follows me around and gives me compliments."
Dinah wrinkled her nose and tried to sound appalled. "I'd hate that."
Priscilla chuckled. "I know. He sounds perfect, doesn't he? If only he hadn't lied to me about Payton. Then I might give him a chance."
Intrigued, Dinah leaned forward. "Well, what did he say?"
"He led me to believe Payton, Ohio was completely different than it is. That it was progressive, and upbeat." She rolled her eyes. "Those things it is not."
Dinah felt vaguely sad to hear her hometown derided. "It really is a good place to live."
Priscilla looked stricken. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm loving it here. It's just ... well, I was hoping to make a name for myself. To go back to Houston, Texas a hot-shot chef, and use my reputation to start my own bistro." She shook her head. "No offense, but it's not going to happen here."
Dinah wasn't offended. "What are you going to do?"
"At first I was just going to quit. But now ... I don't know. I'm liking the club a lot. And the board members, with all their motherly and fatherly advice, have kind of grown on me. And then there's Payton Chase."
"You know, I've always liked him. He was really sweet to me when my husband died. I don't know what I would have done without friends like him."
Priscilla stared at her in surprise. "I'm sorry about your husband."
So was she. "It's okay. It was a few years ago."
"So this dating stuff is pretty new, huh?" Priscilla asked, her voice kindhearted.
"Yeah. Yes, it is."
"Would you like me to make something spectacular for you?"
"Thanks, but no. I'm actually looking forward to the sundaes. And I think Jeremy will like them too."
Priscilla's smile became full-fledged. "Jeremy Reece?"
"Yes."
"Oh, Dinah," Priscilla said with a sigh. "He's practically dreamy. You're going to have a wonderful time."
Dinner was going to be a disaster. Bryan was crying, the salad from the bag looked wilted, and even after an hour, the potatoes still weren't soft. Dinah frantically wondered if Jeremy would mind if she just handed him the keys to her sedan and told him to take her away.
Somehow she thought he just might run away if she did that!
"It's okay, Bry," she cooed, holding him on her hip like she used to when he was about five pounds lighter. "Everything's going to be okay."
But he only squirmed and wiggled, wanting instead to play in front of the oven. Even Bonnie had gotten into the act, howling every time Bryan let out an especially loud cry.
Dinah felt like crying herself. Here she'd been so ready to have a perfect dinner, to show Jeremy just how fun being around her and Bryan could be, when all the elements in the world seemed determined to fight her left and right.
With despair, she glanced down at her white capris and bright yellow top. Both were now splattered with who-knew-what, and looked wrinkled enough to have been slept in. Yeah, he was going to be impressed, all right.
The doorbell rang, and with a grimace she realized that not only was Jeremy on time, but he also had that annoying male trait of not realizing that you never, ever arrived at a party early. Holding Bryan tightly on her hip, she went to greet him, as well as she was able.
"Hey," he said. "I hope you don't mind that I'm a few minutes early. I didn't want to be late, and then the traffic through downtown was nonexistent, and I didn't want your neighbors to think I was casing the neighborhood ..." His voice drifted off as he caught sight of her stricken face and Bryan's tear-streaked one. "What's wrong?"
"Everything," she wailed. "Nothing's gone right. Everything's gone wrong, and I wanted it to be so nice for you," she said, leading him to the back of the kitchen. "I can't seem to do anything easily and Bryan must notice that I'm not myself, because he keeps fussing and crying." She stomped her foot when Bry grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled. "No, Bry," she murmured, then turned to Jeremy. "I guess you want to leave, huh?"
Jeremy looked at her, stunned. She might have thought everything was wrong, but he'd heard enough to know that things were just fine. If she wanted things to be nice for him, then she cared. And that was enough.
And she looked adorable in those snug capris, even if they were stained with what looked to be Spaghetti Os. "I don't want to leave," he said slowly, then held out his arms to Bryan since it looked as if Dinah was about to tilt to one side from the boy's weight.
"Come here, sport."
With a solemn face, Bryan reached for him, and held on tight, quieting at once.
Bonnie trotted over and positioned her head right under his hand. He followed the beagle's wishes, gave her a few pats, then watched the dog pad over to her canvas covered bed and lie down.
Pleased to be helping so much, he glanced at Dinah, ready to hear her approval.
Dinah looked at him like he was a traitor. "How did you do that?" she asked.
"I like dogs," he said, motioning to Bonnie. "And as for Bryan, well ... I've got a niece. He must know I'm anxious to see another guy." He cooed to Bryan again, then turned to Dinah. "How can I help?"
She chuckled. "You already have." Briefly she told him the menu, and described the variety of troubles she'd had even preparing the simple meal. "Would you mind being in charge of the steaks? You could grill them outside, and Bryan would probably play just fine in his sandbox if you were out there."
"Show me the way," he said. After a few minutes, the steaks were on, Bryan was occupied putting sand into a bucket, and Dinah walked out to sit with him, two glasses of tea in her hands.
"This is more how I was hoping things would be."
He tilted his head, watching her, ready to listen to everything she said. "How?"
"I was hoping we could relax, enjoy the evening."
He already was enjoying himself, but because she seemed so worried, he tried to set her at ease once again. "I am enjoying myself, Dinah. Believe me, I grew up with four siblings. Dinner time can be the trickiest time of the day."
She laughed. "I guess so. It was in our house, too. My mom is a terrible cook, and my dad was always trying to find ways not to eat her concoctions."
Jeremy burst out laughing. "You almost sound proud of him!"
"I was! My brother Ben and I would stare at the goulash or casserole that she'd dished on our plates and try to think of new ways to give it to the dog."
"Did it work?"
"Sometimes. Skip, our beagle back then, was real found of liver meatballs."
"Eww!"
Dinah made a face. "Eww is right. I'm not much of a cook, but all the things I can make are easily recognizable."
"Well, I'm a great cook, so you won't have to worry," he teased, then froze as she stared at him hard. He needed to watch his words better or he was going to scare her off before he had a chance to get close to her. "I mean, if I ever cook you dinner."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"So ... any other dark secrets?" he asked next, eager to know more about her.
"Hmm," she said, "not really. I'm a reasonable housekeeper, an excellent book store owner, and have been known to spend too much on cute outfits for Bryan." She sipped her tea then leaned forward. "What about you?"
He shrugged. "I like old cars, old houses, good steaks, and ... pretty blonds." He smiled when color rose to her cheeks, but he didn't even consider taking his words back. There was something about her that told him that she had heard compliments too little in recent times. And he wasn't going to let her pretend that he was over merely because he needed another friend. He had friends, and lots of them. At that moment he wanted to be around Dinah, wanted to finally kiss her.
"I like blonds, too," she said, ducking her head away before he could scrutinize her face.
He didn't know what to say to that. Something told him that it wasn't the time to flirt anymore. Only two topics seemed safe: Bryan or the steaks.
Luckily Bryan was on the same wavelength. He toddled over, one fist full of sand. With a fierce shake, it fell to the ground and on his feet. "Ack!" he said triumphantly.
"No, Bry, that was not great," Dinah reproved.
Because the little boy was standing in front of him, just waiting to be acknowledged, Jeremy scooped him up in his arms. "Hey, big guy. What's up?"
That seemed to be all the opening he needed. Bryan squirmed out of his arms, then held out a chubby hand, obviously wanting Bryan to follow him to the sandbox. All the while he chattered in baby-talk, about one out of every third word intelligible.
"He wants you to see his trucks," Dinah translated. "Be careful, though. Bryan's a true believer of examining things while standing in the sandbox."
"I can do that," Jeremy said, already slipping off his loafers and socks and rolling up the hem of his jeans two times. "Let's go, Bryan."
Bryan smiled widely, then hopped back in, motioning for Jeremy to sit right next to him.
Dinah watched Jeremy and Bryan with something approaching awe. It was so rare for her son to actively choose to be around men, and really rare for it to happen so quickly.
And, she imagined, it also wasn't a very common occurrence for men to discard their shoes and socks with such happy abandon and plop down in the middle of a sandbox. But that's what Jeremy was doing, and he looked to be having a great time loading up dump trucks.
Becoming aware that she was staring, Dinah cleared her throat. "I'm just going to put the rest of the meal on the table."
"Okay," Jeremy said, barely looking up.
Feeling strangely left out, Dinah flipped the steaks, then prepared the rest of the food. Fifteen minutes later everyone was washing their hands.
And a half hour after that, Dinah couldn't believe that dinner was over; Bryan looked about ready to fall asleep at the table, and she had a whole mess to still clean up. All that effort for thirty minutes of dining!
"I liked the sundaes," Jeremy said, pushing his bowl away. "It's been awhile since I had one."
"Thanks. I thought they were good, too," she commented, though she couldn't help but think that the ice cream all over Bryan wasn't going to come off easily.
"I'll work on the dishes, Di," Jeremy said, startling her out of her daze. "You go clean Bryan up and put him to bed."
"You don't mind?"
"Not in the slightest." He chuckled and gestured toward her countertops. "Besides, I think there's going to be plenty left for you, too."
She had to agree. She'd taken just about every dish out of her cupboards to make, bake, and serve everything. Somewhat grumpily she realized that her mother, and probably Jeremy, could have made do with about a third of the equipment.
With a sigh, she picked up Bryan, quickly washed his face with a washcloth, put him in his pajamas, and tucked him in bed. He was asleep before she left the room.
"Back already?"
"I am. I think you wore him out!"
"Glad I could help," he said, handing her a bowl to dry. "We'll get this done in no time."
Silently they washed and dried the mountain of dishes, stacking some in the dishwasher, hand washing and drying others. Bonnie wandered around the kitchen, poking her nose under the countertops, looking for scraps.
As they neared the end, a sense of calmness floated through her. "This was nice," she said. "I'm so glad you came over."
He leaned back against the counter. "What do you usually do now, after dinner, when Bryan is asleep?"
She was surprised by the question. "Not too much. Watch TV. Relax. Read a little bit. Laundry."
He tilted his head. "Where do you sit?"
"In there."
He took her hand. "Come on, then."
Within minutes, Dinah found herself sitting on the couch next to Jeremy, shoes off, legs tucked under her. And right then and there ... she was back in time.
No bills or babies to worry about. No stack of mail or baby clothes to fold.
Nope. Right then, right there, all she could seem to think about was whether her hair looked okay, if the guy beside her thought she was cute ... if he was ever going to kiss her good night.
As if in response, Jeremy dropped an arm across her back, his warm hand cupping her shoulder in a way that brought back memories of drive-ins and football games.
He chuckled. "I'm sorry. For some reason I keep wanting to look over my shoulder to see if your dad is going to catch us on the couch."
"I've been thinking that this feels kind of funny, too."
His hand raised. "Do you want me to move?"
"No," she said, then cursed her tongue. Was it really necessary to sound that desperate?
But if Jeremy thought she sounded funny, he gave no indication. In fact, he scooted a little closer. Played with the curls at the end of her hair. "Have I thanked you for inviting me over yet?"
"Have I thanked you for not leaving when you saw what a state I was in?"
He smiled. "I'm kind of glad I found you like that. Made me feel like you weren't quite as perfect as I thought you were."
It was all she could do not to stare at him in surprise. "You thought I was perfect?"
"Uh huh." His fingers brushed her bare skin, giving her goose bumps and a faint tremor in her stomach. "Maybe if I asked again, you might consider going out with me?"
It was hard to think clearly when his body was so close to her own; when he smelled so good, like expensive cologne from the department store, when his fingers brushed the delicate skin around her collar bone, sending shockwaves straight to her heart.
She knew she was going to die if he didn't kiss her within two seconds.
She glanced at his eyes. Silvery blue, vividly awaiting her, with the patience of a saint ... or at least a really good person. "I would," she said softly.
With a sigh, she felt his shoulders relax. And then, he was curving toward her, leaning in, cupping her jaw in his hands.
And kissing her so tenderly, like she was perfect for him.
Every sensation in her body shifted to high gear. His lips were soft yet firm; his hands, so gentle as his thumbs caressed her cheeks, then wrapped around her back.
He smelled like cologne, but like Jeremy, too. Full of soap and man ... and all with the slight hint of Bryan. And he tasted even better.
She never, ever wanted such a kiss to end. He felt too good. And she felt too fresh. Too aware of him. Too new.
And then finally he pulled away, but only inches, only enough to meet her gaze head on. And smiled.
\'That are you doing, son?"
Jeremy looked up from the small mountain of folders and batches of paperwork that he'd been trying to get a handle on. "Trying to figure out where I've hidden another ten thousand dollars," he said with a sigh.
"Any luck?"
"Nope." He dragged a hand through his hair and wondered how much he dared to share with his dad. He wanted advice, not for things to be fixed. Sometimes his dad didn't seem to see the difference. Since the desire for his dad's experience and wisdom outweighed anything else, he decided to give it a try. "I found a
house. Did you hear about that?"
"A little," his dad said, sitting down across from him at their kitchen table. "But I was hoping to hear about it from you."
"It's great," Jeremy said, completely aware that he sounded suspiciously like he had back in tenth grade when he'd found an electric guitar on sale and was sure he needed it in order to be a star. "It's run-down, and sprawling, and made of stone. Big oak trees practically fill up the back yard. Beautiful woodwork in the den."
"Sounds good."
Jeremy nodded. "It is ..." His voice drifted off, uncertain of how to tell his father that he couldn't afford it.
"But ...?"
"But, it's a little more than I would like. And I'm worried if I wait too long, it's going to be gone, but if I give in and get it, I'm not going to have a thing left in my savings account."
His dad glanced at a few of the papers, too. "I can see your problem. Guess you've already talked to Payton about working more hours?" he asked, leaning back.
"Yeah. He said he could maybe fit in five hours more a week on the schedule. That's not going to make a whole lot of difference."
His dad smirked. "Especially if Payton and Priscilla are still at it."
Jeremy laughed. "You should see them together. They are slowly driving me mad. Priscilla could say the sky is blue and still Payton would find a way to argue about it." He sighed. "Any ideas?"
"A few. You're the only child we've had who managed to hold a part time job during all of college, save like crazy, and graduate early." He grinned, his eyes twinkling.
Jeremy stared at him, surprised. He'd never accomplished those things in order to receive praise, he'd just done them because he couldn't imagine functioning any other way. He believed in hard work and savings, and always had. "I have some money saved, and there is money I made substitute teaching last spring. And the tutoring." He shook his head in frustration. "I don't think there's enough to go buy a house and furnish it, though."
"Interest rates are awfully low."
"Not that low, Dad."
He gazed at Jeremy again. "Somewhere in the midst of your hard work, I bet we saved some money. How about a loan?"
Jeremy winced. This was what he'd been afraid of. "No thanks."
Finding Love in Payton Page 7