As they headed out of Sullivan’s, Mitch was surprised when Luke and Jo walked on ahead, leaving Nate behind to walk with him. “Why didn’t you touch the champagne, Dad? Is it because of what happened to Mom?”
Mitch was surprised that it was Nate who’d picked up on it. “Not entirely,” he said.
“There’s no beer in the house, either.”
Mitch gave him an annoyed look. “You taking inventory?”
“No, I went to grab one after my run yesterday and I noticed, that’s all. You always kept the fridge stocked.”
“And now I don’t,” Mitch said flatly.
“If it’s not because of the drunk driver, then what’s going on?” Nate persisted.
Mitch studied his son with annoyance. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
Nate shook his head. “Look, right after the accident, Luke and I noticed you were drinking a little more than usual. Was it a lot more?”
Mitch sighed. Of course they’d noticed. He hadn’t done much to hide the difficulty he was having dealing with his grief and the sorry way he’d chosen to drown it. “For a couple of months, yes,” he admitted. “Eventually I realized I was getting too dependent on alcohol to take away the pain, so I stopped. It’s no big deal.”
“Did it bother you that I wanted to order champagne at lunch?”
He smiled at the worry in his son’s eyes. “Not at all. It was a celebration. It deserved a toast. And I could have had a glass of champagne if I’d wanted one, but I’ve lost my taste for alcohol. I think it’s best left that way.” He hadn’t wanted to disrespect Amy’s memory by turning into a drunk, and he’d seen for himself the danger of that happening the more he’d wallowed in the pain of losing her. The irony, not lost on him, was that even an alcoholic haze hadn’t helped with the grief. Not really. He’d still had to feel it down to his soul to start getting past it.
Nate regarded him sympathetically. “I wish I’d come home more often right after the accident. I just couldn’t. It hurt to be in the house without Mom there.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“And that’s what I’m saying,” Nate said earnestly. “I should have seen how much harder it was for you. I’m sorry for being so selfish and clueless.”
“Stop that this minute,” Mitch chided. “You’re neither selfish nor clueless. You were doing exactly what you should have been doing—going to school, living your life, meeting a terrific girl.”
Nate clearly wasn’t ready to let it go. “Luke knew. He came home more than I did.”
Mitch grinned. “Because he was broke more than you were. Don’t paint your brother as a saint. Not that I wasn’t glad to have him home, no matter what the reason.” He deliberately sought to change the subject. “By the way, have you and Jo talked about where you’ll live once you’re married?”
Nate gave him a long look, but then moved on. “It depends on where she goes to school next year. She’s been accepted at Stanford.”
Mitch’s step faltered at the news. “Stanford, huh? That’s incredible.”
“But a long way from home,” Nate said, sounding unhappy. “I’m hoping she’ll choose someplace closer to here, but it’s up to her.”
“Don’t try to influence her,” Mitch cautioned. “It’s an important decision and she should make the one that’s right for her.”
“She says we’re a team now and that the decisions have to be right for both of us.”
Mitch continued to be impressed with Jo’s maturity. “Well, then, I know you’ll work it out.”
As they reached the house, Nate touched his arm, stopping him. “Just one more thing, okay? If you need us here—me or Luke or both of us—you just have to call.”
“I’ll remember that,” Mitch said, touched yet again by the sensitivity Amy had ingrained in their sons.
In a way it reminded him that she would always be with them. It also reminded him that with her generous spirit and warm heart, she would be the first to tell him to move on with his life, to find happiness.
Maybe that was with Lynn. Maybe not. But he was finally ready, he thought, to find out.
* * *
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Helen declared, catching Erik in the kitchen at Sullivan’s on Sunday when he couldn’t escape.
“I see you every day,” her husband reminded her. “We sleep in the same bed at night.”
“But I can’t cross-examine you at night, because just when I open my mouth with a question, you find some clever way to distract me. Call me crazy, but I think it’s deliberate.”
“Maybe I just can’t keep my hands off you,” he suggested, a twinkle in his eyes.
Helen rolled her eyes in response. Flattery wasn’t going to get him off the hook. “And every time I bring up my mother, you find some excuse to take off.”
“You’re exaggerating,” he said, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
That blasted smile of his exasperated her as much as his obvious avoidance of a conversation he clearly didn’t want to have.
“Step away from the food processor,” she ordered in a tone that was usually effective in intimidating witnesses in the courtroom. When he’d reluctantly done as she’d asked, she said, “Now tell me what you know about my mom dating.”
He actually managed to feign a surprised look. “Flo’s dating?” he asked, his tone almost believable. Almost, but not quite.
“Oh, don’t even try that with me,” she said, waving off his blatant attempt at feigning innocence. “I know she tells you all sorts of things she’s never mentioned to me. You’re her hero who can do no wrong. I’m her daughter. She won’t say a thing to me about something like this because she’s afraid I’ll disapprove.”
“You do have a history of being pretty stuffy when it comes to her having a social life,” he suggested gently.
“That doesn’t mean she should hide it from me. Now tell me who she’s dating. Or is it a whole lot of men? That might be better,” she said, considering it. “She’d never sleep with a lot of men.” She shuddered at the thought of her mother sleeping with any man.
Erik shook his head. “And you wonder why she keeps secrets from you. Listen to yourself.”
“It’s just weird, that’s all. She’s past seventy. Should she be having a sex life at that age?”
Erik chuckled, but quickly tried to hide it. “If she wants one, I’d say the answer has to be yes.”
Helen barely resisted the urge to stamp her foot. “I knew you’d take her side.”
“Because it’s her life. She’s entitled to live it however she wants to. Weren’t you the one who was always telling me how many sacrifices she made to get enough money to send you to college and then law school? You moved her down to Boca Raton and bought her a condo so she could finally have the kind of life you thought she deserved.”
“I was thinking about her swimming and relaxing in the sun, playing cards with her friends, going shopping. Dating and sex never once crossed my mind.”
“Because that was something else she sacrificed during those years when you were her whole focus,” he suggested.
Helen frowned at his reasonable attitude. “What if it were your mother? Would you be sounding so blasé about it?”
“I’m pretty sure my mother and father are still getting it on like bunnies,” Erik said with increasing amusement.
Helen poked him in the ribs. “You do not believe that.”
“I do. My dad lo
oks pretty darn happy whenever I see him.”
“Why are you not taking me seriously?”
“I do take you seriously. And I know you’re all worked up out of concern for your mother and not because you’re a prude, right?”
“Right,” she said, albeit not entirely truthfully. “Do you really not know anything about what’s going on?”
“Nothing I can share,” he said. “Talk to Flo. At least pretend to be interested, rather than getting on your high horse and ripping into her.”
“I do not get on a high horse and rip into my mother,” she protested. At Erik’s raised eyebrow, she sighed. “Okay, sometimes I do. I’ll try not to this time.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that. Now, is it okay if I go back to making dessert for the many customers who might be expecting something delicious on the menu?”
“If you must,” she conceded. “You have flour on your cheek, by the way.” She stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to the spot. “Right there.” She grinned. “And a little here.”
“For a woman who’s all worked up over her mother having a few innocent dates, you surely do seem intent on getting me riled up where anyone could walk in on us.”
“It’s a contradiction, isn’t it?” she said cheerfully. “See you tonight. We’ll finish what I tried to start.”
He grinned. “Looking forward to it.”
Helen left Sullivan’s humming. She might not have gotten everything she wanted from her husband, but she surely did have the promise of an interesting evening ahead.
* * *
Flo woke up to the smell of coffee brewing. She tried to recall a single other moment in her life when a man had been that considerate. Helen’s daddy surely hadn’t been. He’d been a good man, but in his view certain tasks were women’s work. And in those years, she hadn’t had enough gumption to call him on it.
None of the other men who’d passed through her life had had much to recommend them, either, not even in the short-term. Now there was Donnie, who’d surprised the heck out of her by being not only an incredible dancer, but about as thoughtful as anyone could possibly be.
She sighed, stretched and was about to go in search of that coffee when he came into her bedroom carrying a cookie sheet with a napkin on it, a plate filled with food, coffee and a rose he’d obviously nabbed from the bush in front of her apartment building. It took a lot to rattle her, but the gesture brought tears to her eyes.
“Why’d you do this?” she couldn’t help asking, even as she took her first sip of coffee. It was black and strong, just the way she liked it.
“Because you’re a woman who deserves to be pampered,” he said. “I know there hasn’t been much of that in your life, but now you have me.”
“Do I?” she whispered. “Have you, I mean?”
“Darlin’, what do you think’s been goin’ on these past months? I’ve been courtin’ you the best way I know how.”
“Donnie, you’re going to turn my head with talk like that.”
“That’s the idea,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “Flo, do you not have any idea what a treasure you are?”
She honestly couldn’t say that she did. “A treasure?” she echoed doubtfully.
“You’re an amazing mother. You raised Helen to be an incredible woman, and you did it with no help from anyone. I’ve seen the way that granddaughter of yours looks at you. She adores you. You’re the best friend Frances and Liz could ask for.” He grinned. “And you do one heckuva two-step!”
“I just hope that last one doesn’t land me in the hospital with another broken hip,” she said, trying to lighten the moment from the unexpected emotional intensity of his words.
“Not with me there to hold you,” he promised. “I won’t let you stumble, much less fall.”
“Donnie, how is it that some woman didn’t snap you up years ago?”
He winked at her. “I was just waiting for you.”
“I don’t believe that for one single minute. I’ve seen the way all the women my age hang around the post office hoping to catch your eye.”
He laughed. “You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not, which makes me wonder, why me?”
His expression turned thoughtful as he considered her question, rather than brushing it off as many men would have.
“Because you weren’t trying, I suppose,” he said eventually. “I’ve always been drawn to a challenge. My first wife ran a pretty good race before she let me catch her. Since she died, I’ve never been interested in easy.” He shrugged, his expression even more serious. “Or maybe I was never ready for anything before now.”
Flo reached for his hand. “I’m glad you were ready when I came along.”
“Me, too.” He hesitated, then added, “And that’s the thing, Flo. I’m wondering when you’re going to tell your daughter about us. As much of a kick as I get out of all these secret dates of ours, I want things out in the open. I’m proud to be with you. It worries me that you don’t feel the same way about me.”
Flo’s mood instantly deflated. “Don’t ever think such a thing. I do care about you. That’s exactly why I’m keeping quiet. I know my Helen. She won’t approve,” she said flatly.
Donnie frowned. “Why not? I’m a couple years younger, so what? Why wouldn’t she approve of me?”
“It’s more than a couple of years,” she corrected. “It’s twelve, but your age isn’t the problem. You’re not the problem. It’s me, or I should say it’s the situation. Helen has a little trouble thinking of me like this.”
Donnie looked perplexed. “This?”
“Being intimate with someone,” she explained. “It freaks her out.”
His eyes widened. “You’re kidding. Helen’s a worldly woman. Surely she knows people our age still have active libidos.”
Flo allowed herself a smile. “She may know it intellectually. She may even accept it when it comes to other seniors, but not her mama.”
“Well, it’s not exactly like she has a real say,” he said, then frowned. “Or does she?”
“Of course not. I just didn’t want to stir that particular pot till I had a real reason to.”
“But Erik knows?” he asked. “Isn’t that tricky for him?”
Flo sighed. “It’s put him in an impossible situation,” she agreed. In fact, between that and Donnie’s reaction just now, she knew it was time to open this particular can of beans with her daughter. If only she’d seen something besides complete shock in Helen’s eyes the other night when she’d so much as mentioned having a date, she thought with real regret. Then maybe the prospect of telling Helen she was involved in an increasingly serious relationship wouldn’t terrify her so.
“I’ll tell her,” she said, though she couldn’t seem to make herself sound excited about it.
“Want me with you when you do?” he asked. “She’s less likely to overreact with me right there.”
Flo laughed at his optimism. “If you believe that, you don’t know Helen. She’ll just use the opportunity to cut off your… Well, let’s just say it’s a bad idea.”
Donnie looked a little taken aback by that. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “I’m not expecting it to go well.”
In fact, she had a feeling it was going to take a real effort to keep Helen from trying to have her committed. Or maybe the real worry should be giving her surprisingly stuffy daughter a heart attack.
* * *
On Tuesday morning L
ynn heard a key turn and then the opening of the front door. Since the kids were already at school, it could only be one person—her soon-to-be-ex-husband.
Annoyed by his presumption, she bolted into the living room and stopped him in his tracks. Hands on hips, she stood right in his path and looked him in the eye. “Hand it over.”
Ed looked genuinely taken aback by her attitude. “Hand what over?”
“The key. You have no right to be walking in here anymore.”
“It’s my house,” he protested, his eyes flashing with unmistakable temper.
“Not until the court changes something,” she retorted, then leveled a look directly into his eyes. “Then again, it may belong to the bank soon, and we’ll both be out of luck.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Your sleazy attorney hasn’t been paying the mortgage—that’s what it means.”
Ed’s eyes widened with shock. “That can’t be.”
“He’s missed two payments. I have the bank notice to prove it.” She shook her head. “Why you trusted that man to handle the divorce for you and to deal with these bills is beyond me. Everybody in town knows Jimmy Bob has questionable ethics.”
“It’s not as if there are a lot of alternatives,” he said, then added defensively, “Besides, I’ve known Jimmy Bob forever.”
“Then you really should have known better.”
“Lynn, I swear to you, I’ve given him the money right on schedule.”
“Then you might want to take that up with him,” she said, adding, “If you can find him.”
“Now what are you talking about?”
Where Azaleas Bloom Page 10