The Soldier's Secret Child
Page 11
What he hadn’t anticipated was how seeing Lacey with someone else would feel like a punch in the stomach.
And he should have known, because it had happened before, with Gerry. This exact same feeling: You’re not going to get her. She’s going to choose someone else. And you’re going to have to stand there and be a man about it. Do the right thing.
Speaking of doing the right thing, he was being rude to Daisy, standing there watching Lacey and Dion disappear inside the restaurant like a hungry dog, tongue hanging out.
He schooled his expression before he turned to Daisy. Was that a similar look on her face?
That brought him out of himself. He couldn’t have Lacey, and it was wrong to think she should save herself for him, that she shouldn’t find happiness with someone else. Dion was a good man, respected by everyone in town.
And now, he needed to go through with the evening’s plans as if he didn’t feel gutshot. He didn’t know Daisy well, but he assumed that if Dion was set up with Lacey, Daisy was probably set up with him. He turned to her. “Any chance you’re here for a blind date, too? Set up by my grandma?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. She didn’t look enthusiastic.
He soldiered on, as he’d been trained to do. “Well, you didn’t get the prize,” he said, “but you’ll get a good dinner. I think I’m your date.”
“Oh. Okay.” She didn’t sound thrilled, but not horrified, either. “What do you mean, not the prize?”
He gestured vaguely toward the scarred side of his face. “Only a doting grandma could love this mug.”
She didn’t deny the ugliness of his scars, but she shrugged them away. “Most women care more about what’s inside. Whereas men...” She trailed off, and then glanced down at her own curvy body. “I’m not the prize, either, compared to her.” She gestured toward the door through which Dion and Lacey had disappeared.
It was true. Vito didn’t find Daisy as attractive as he found Lacey. But then, he didn’t find any woman that attractive. For better or worse, his heart had attached itself to Lacey, and he was realizing more every minute that his wasn’t the kind of heart that could easily change directions. Still, Daisy—blonde, vivacious and with a killer smile—was something of a showstopper herself. And he wasn’t going to be rude to her. “You are a prize. Anyone with any sense would wonder how someone like me got to go out with a knockout like you. I’m honored to be your date.”
The crowd by the door was thinning out, and a bench opened up. “Want to sit down?”
So they sat, and talked about her work in social services, and his desire to become a teacher. She was a good conversationalist, easy to talk to. He found himself confessing his worries about scaring kids, his desire to work with them in person, and his pretty-sure decision to go with online teaching. When the hostess called them to go inside, she had to do it several times, apparently, from her expression when she came out to get them.
As they followed her into the restaurant, replete with stained glass and low lighting and good smells of bread and prime rib, they kept talking.
“Don’t do online teaching if your heart is in the real classroom,” she urged him as they crossed the restaurant behind the maître d’. “Kids respond to the whole person, not just how you look. I used to worry about them teasing me about my weight, but they’re completely fine with it.”
“As are most men,” he assured her. “Women think we all like stick-skinny women, but that’s not the case. You’re beautiful.”
“Your table, sir.” The maître d’ gestured, and Vito held Daisy’s chair for her.
Only then did he realize that Dion and Lacey were just around a small corner from them, probably within earshot of most things they would say.
Not only that, but the two of them were leaning toward each other, sharing an appetizer and appearing to have a marvelous time.
Chapter Ten
Lacey looked at the handsome man across the table from her and tried to ignore Vito and Daisy being seated practically right behind them.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t ignore what she’d heard. “You’re a beautiful woman,” Vito had said to Daisy.
Which was true, and she didn’t begrudge Daisy the praise, but the way it stung alerted her to something she hadn’t quite realized before: she wanted Vito for herself.
“Hey,” Dion said. “What’s going on?”
She shrugged and toyed with her water glass.
“All of a sudden you’re not comfortable,” he said. “Is it something I said?”
“No! No, you’re fine. What were we talking about?” She laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I’m a little intimidated.”
His forehead creased. “Intimidated? Why?”
“You’re kind of known for your wisdom,” she said, “not to mention that you’re the police chief.”
“Which is all a nice way of saying I’m an old man,” he said, “who’s fortunate to be out with a fine-looking young woman.”
The words were gallant, but Lacey could tell Dion wasn’t interested in her in that way. Rather than feeling insulted, she felt relieved and suddenly more comfortable. This was a little awkward, especially with Vito and Daisy so close, but at least she knew she wasn’t misleading Dion.
“I’m the fortunate one,” she said. “I might pick your brain about some Bible stuff. You’re said to know everything there is to know.”
“Who says that?”
“Angelica’s husband, Troy. He thinks you’re the font of all wisdom. And my brother’s a fan, too.”
“Don’t you be thinking I’m perfect,” he warned. “Nobody’s perfect. Nobody’s even close, right? That’s what the good book says.”
“See, you’re making my point for me, quoting scripture at the drop of a hat.” She frowned. “Anyway, of course, you’re right. But I’ve spent my whole life trying to be good. Trying to be perfect.”
“We all try,” he said, “and that’s not bad.”
She did her best to ignore the rumble of Vito’s voice behind her, but it played along her nerve endings like an instrument. She forced it away, forced herself to talk with Dion about her brother, with whom he’d had a good deal of official contact until Buck had dried out and they’d become friends. She forced herself to rave over the delicious, beautifully presented food: Dion’s prime rib, her own organic grilled salmon.
“That was great,” she said when they’d pushed away their plates.
“Yes, it was,” he said, “but let me ask you something. Are you in this matchmaking thing for real?”
She looked at him and slowly shook her head. “Not really. I’m just doing it for Nonna. You?” She only asked the question to be polite, because she was pretty sure of the answer. “I always heard you were with Daisy.”
“Everyone thinks that,” he said, smoothly changing the subject. “You’re a newish widow. It makes sense you’re not ready to do a lot of dating.”
“Yeah. I...I really loved my husband.”
Dion didn’t say, “He was a good guy.” That would normally be the remark you made, wouldn’t it? But instead, he said, “That’s obvious. Gerry was blessed to have you. But—” he raised a finger and pinned her with a steady gaze “—at some point, you’re going to have to move on. You’re too young of a woman to give up on life.”
She wasn’t going to tell him about her infertility. Instead, she turned the tables. “Do you take your own advice?”
Dion cocked his head to one side, smiling at her. “Touché. I’ve been on my own a lot longer than you have, and I should probably be letting go of some baggage by now.”
She wanted to ask him about his past, but the way his face closed when he mentioned it told her she shouldn’t. “Moving on isn’t as easy as it sounds, is it?”
“No,” he said. “But let your feelings lead
and you’ll be fine. Your feelings and your heart. And most of all, the Lord.”
Well, if she were to let her feelings lead... Involuntarily, she glanced over at Vito and then back at Dion. “I’m ashamed to say that I haven’t spent much time consulting the Lord about this,” she admitted.
The server took their plates away and promised to be right back with the dessert tray. “There’s no time like the present,” Dion said, “to take it to the Lord. Want to?”
So she let him take her hand in his, closed her eyes, listened to Dion’s quiet words and said a few herself. Asked for forgiveness that she’d neglected to seek God’s guidance in her feelings. Asked Him to lead her in the right direction.
When they were finished, she felt cleansed.
“And now,” Dion said, “if we can get their attention, do you think we should move our table together with our friends for dessert?”
“I, um, I don’t know if Nonna would approve.”
“Nonna’s not here, is she? Hey, Vito.” Dion caught his attention and made the suggestion, and the servers rushed to help, assuring them it was no problem.
Once they were all sitting together, there was a slightly awkward silence, broken by the approach of the dessert tray. The waiter began to describe the offerings.
Lacey looked over at Daisy. “I need chocolate. Now. You?”
“I agree.”
* * *
After a restless night, Vito woke Charlie up early, figuring they’d grab breakfast and go burn off some energy on the basketball court. But even before they reached the main floor of the guesthouse, delicious smells of cinnamon and bread wafted toward them.
Could Lacey be up baking cinnamon rolls?
But when they walked into the kitchen, there was Nonna in her Kiss the Cook apron, bending over to check on something in the oven and looking like her old self.
At the table was Miss Minnie Falcon, matriarch of the Senior Towers and former Sunday school teacher to almost every child in Rescue River. Next to her was Lou Ann Miller, stirring sugar into a cup of coffee.
“You’re looking good, Nonna,” he said, walking over to the stove and giving his grandmother a kiss.
“And that smells good!” Charlie came over as Nonna removed the pan from the oven. “Can I have some?”
“Five minutes, cùcciolo.” She patted Charlie’s shoulder, smiling.
Vito felt a great weight lifting off him, a weight he hadn’t known he was carrying. Nonna was going to be okay. Suddenly he could see it and feel it and believe it. Not only that, but she’d called Charlie by the same affectionate name she used to use on Vito and his brother. That, more than anything, meant Charlie was becoming part of their family. He swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat and walked over to greet the ladies at the table.
As good as her word, Nonna brought a steaming loaf of cinnamon bread, along with small cups of butter and jam, and placed them in the middle of the table.
“Italian breakfast like the old days.” Vito put an arm around Nonna, still feeling a little misty-eyed.
Charlie’s hand froze in the act of grabbing a piece of the bread. “Why is it brown?” he asked.
“Because I used the healthy flour. It tastes just as good, so eat up.”
Charlie grabbed a piece, slathered it with butter and jam and took a huge bite before anyone else had even secured a piece. “It’s good, Nonna,” he said, his mouth full of food.
Vito leaned close to Charlie’s ear. “Good table manners will get you more food,” he whispered.
Charlie raised his eyebrows. “What’d I do?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” They’d cover the grabby behavior later. First things first.
Miss Minnie put a clawlike hand on Vito’s arm. “I understand you were our first matchmaking client,” she said.
“Yes, tell us all about it.” Lou Ann Miller raised a slice of bread to her nose and inhaled, closing her eyes. “Fabulous, dear. You’ve outdone yourself.”
As Nonna beamed, the door from the backyard opened and Lacey breezed in. She wore a red-and-white-checkered shirt and cutoff shorts and she looked as carefree as she had at twelve.
And he was a goner.
“That smells amazing, Nonna D’Angelo,” she said, approaching the table. “And look, whole grains! I’m impressed.”
“Hey, Miss Lacey, you’re not wearing your necklace.”
Lacey’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh, wow, I’ll run up and get it before I eat.”
“Want me to get it for you?” The words were out of Vito’s mouth before he realized that he didn’t, in fact, want to get her the necklace. Didn’t want her to wear Gerry’s wedding ring around her neck anymore.
“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll get it.” She half walked, half skipped out of the kitchen.
“My Vito.” Nonna pinched his cheek—the second time someone had touched his scars in the past two days. “Always too nice for your own good.”
“That’s right,” Miss Minnie said unexpectedly. “Being kind isn’t all there is to life. Take a stand!”
“What are you ladies talking about?”
Lou Ann Miller glanced over at Charlie, who’d grabbed his handheld game and was immersed in it, still chewing on a huge mouthful of bread. She turned back to Vito. “Your love life is what we’re talking about.”
Vito looked from Lou Ann to his grandmother to Miss Minnie. “Seriously? Is that what I’m doing wrong? Being kind and nice?” But of course, they didn’t know about his Charlie deception, which wasn’t nice at all.
“Tell us about last night,” Nonna said instead of answering his question. She removed her apron and sat down at the table and looked up at him expectantly.
“It was...fine. Daisy is great.”
“And you don’t want to date her.”
“Well, of course he doesn’t. For one thing, she’s attached to Dion Coleman at the hip.”
“And then there’s the fact that Vito’s affections are elsewhere.”
“That’s obvious. The question is what can we do about it?”
The three women’s conversation was spinning out of control. “Nobody needs to do anything about it,” he protested. “I can handle my own life.”
The only good thing was that Charlie wasn’t listening; he was just eating bread and playing with his game.
Lacey came back into the room and Vito didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry. He got busy cleaning up the breakfast dishes and washing mixing bowls and bread pans.
“How was your date with Dion?” Lou Ann asked her.
Vito couldn’t help tuning his ears to hear what she would say. They’d all ended the evening together, on a friendly note and laughing about various people’s efforts to play matchmaker over the years, but Vito still had a sinking feeling he couldn’t compete with Dion, suave and good-looking and successful.
And he couldn’t compete, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have Lacey, because telling her the truth would destroy her world. Destroy her image of the husband whose ring she wore around her neck.
“It was great,” she said easily. “He’s a lot less intimidating on a date than when he’s being the police chief. Mmmm, this bread is good.”
Vito glanced over to see three gray heads turn toward Lacey. “So,” Nonna said, “do you like Dion?”
“She means like like,” Charlie supplied, his mouth full. “Like a boyfriend.”
It seemed like everyone in the room—except Charlie—was holding their breath.
“No, I don’t think so.” Lacey seemed unconscious of how much interest her words were generating. “And I don’t think he likes me that way, either, but I’m glad to get to know him better as a friend. He’s a good guy and a wonderful Christian.”
Vito let out a breath and hi
s tight shoulders relaxed. He grabbed a dish towel and started drying cutlery with great energy.
“I’m not really ready to date,” she continued, fingering her necklace. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to find some other clients.”
There was a little commotion outside the door, and then it opened, framing Buck, Gina and little Bobby, who toddled across the room toward Lacey. “Laasss,” he crowed reverently, crashing into her leg and hanging on.
“Hi, honey!” She lifted him onto her lap and tickled his stomach, making him laugh.
She looked beautiful with a baby.
She would look beautiful with his baby.
Man, he had it bad and he had to stop.
“Mind if the dogs come in, Lace?” Buck asked.
She glanced down at Mr. Whiskers. “Run while you can, buddy,” she said, and then beckoned for Gina to let the dogs in.
Immediately, Crater, a large black mutt with a deep scar on his back, galloped in. At his heels was a small white mop of a dog, barking joyously.
Charlie threw himself out of the chair and started rolling and roughhousing with them.
Vito looked at the ladies to see if they found the ruckus disturbing, but they were watching and laughing. Bobby struggled out of Lacey’s lap and toddled fearlessly into the fray.
Buck and Gina came over to the table and talked above the kids and dogs, and all the noise created a dull roar Vito couldn’t really follow, given his hearing loss. His aids worked well with individual conversations, but big noisy groups were still a challenge.
He was wiping down counters when Charlie came over and tugged at his arm. He bent down to hear what the boy had to say.
“Can we get a dog now, Dad?”
That had been predictable. “Of these two, which kind do you like?”
“Can we get two?”
“No!”
“Then, I like the big one. Can we get one like that? With cool scars?”
The phrasing made Vito lift an eyebrow. Cool scars, huh? That scars could be cool was a new concept to him. “We’ll start thinking about it more seriously,” he promised.