Mother Knows Best

by Barbara Bretton

  Not that anyone would notice because they all seemed to be having a wonderful time, eating and drinking and laughing up a storm. They complimented her on the wonderful food and the fabulous beverages and invited her to sit down and join the party but she felt as if she would explode if she didn't keep moving. Simple conversation seemed beyond her abilities; Boris would have been a more scintillating conversationalist than Diana at that moment.

  The twins were shamelessly flirting with Gregory while Mary Ann Marino and her son Joey played croquet on the back lawn. Dave and his any-minute wife Peggy were sitting by the pool, earnestly discussing whether or not they would send their offspring to Harvard or Yale. No one seemed to notice when Diana excused herself and slipped into the house and went upstairs to change her white pants for a pair of shorts.

  If only her attitude could be changed just as easily...

  Once downstairs in the kitchen, she grabbed a tiny paring knife to trim a leaf from a broccoli floret and nicked her index finger. "Oh, damn!" She popped her finger into her mouth. What an idiotic, ridiculous excuse for a household wizard she was. She couldn't even manage to trim vegetables without drawing blood.

  She heard the sound of footsteps at the doorway, then Gregory's voice. "You okay?"

  "Fine," she mumbled, keeping her head down. "I didn't think anyone knew I was gone." Terrific. You sound like a petulant five year old brat.

  "You don't sound fine." He started toward her.

  "Go outside," she said, wiping her hand on a dishtowel. "Enjoy the party."

  "If you want me to enjoy the party, you'll let me stay inside."

  "Big mistake," she said, attacking the innocent broccoli once again. "It's dangerous in here."

  "Let me look at your hand."

  She noted another drop of blood pooling near her fingertip. "Just a scratch."

  "I'm a doctor," he said, reaching for her hand. "I have credentials."

  "You're a vet," she said, meeting his eyes reluctantly. "Your credentials are only good for Boris and Iggy."

  "We'll make an exception."

  "Oh, why not?" She sighed deeply and leaned against the counter as he examined her finger. "The way today is going, you might as well perform an appendectomy if you feel like it."

  The antique wall clock that had somehow escaped the repo men chimed two o'clock. Somewhere on Long Island, at that very moment, her ex-husband and his pregnant cheerleader were saying "I do," when it was already painfully obvious that they already had.

  "Mazel tov," she said under her breath.

  He held her hand under the faucet and flushed the wound with warm water. "Thinking about the wedding?"

  She flinched at the sting of soap. "How on earth do you know about the wedding?"

  "You told me. Remember?" He patted her hand dry with a linen dish towel she'd bought at the pricey linens boutique on Main Street.

  "You have an incredible memory." And I have an incredibly big mouth.

  "Feel like talking about it?"

  "What's to talk about? We were married. We were divorced. Jack's getting married again. Case closed."

  His eyes were a gorgeous deep blue-green and the expression in them was surprisingly tender. She looked away. She didn't know if she could handle tender.

  "It's not what you think," she said after a moment. "I don't love him anymore but I can't get his wedding out of my mind."

  "Sounds normal to me."

  "Depends on your definition of normal."

  "I've been there before, Diana, and I felt the same way. The day Hayley got married I drank myself into a stupor and tore up my apartment."

  She forgot about her cut finger. "You've been married?"

  "Engaged," he said, rummaging around in the drawer. "Don't you have any band-aids around here?"

  "In the cabinet over the sink." She swiveled her head and watched him lean over to peer inside the cupboard. "Your fiancee married another man?"

  He reached way back and extracted a tin of band-aids. "Why don't you keep them where you can reach them?"

  She ignored the criticism, mainly because he was right. Mother recommended keeping a fully-stocked First Aid kit in both kitchen and bathroom. "How long were you engaged?"

  He leaned against the sink and, grabbing her wrist, drew her close so he could tend to her finger. "Two years, two and a half. We were living together. Taking the final step kept getting away from us. Guess our timing was off."

  "You have something against marriage?"

  "I wouldn't know. I haven't tried it yet." He gave her a funny look from under his thick, dark brows. "How about you?"

  "I don't hold a grudge. Just because it didn't work the first time is no reason to give up on the institution, is it?"

  He watched her carefully. "If you want to call the party off, there'd be no hard feelings."

  "Right," she said, going back to the counter and her broccoli florets. "I'm on shaky enough ground with Mary Ann. That's all I'd need. My name would be mud."

  "I told you the other morning it's nothing personal. Mary Ann's going through a tough time."

  "Her son?"

  "How do you know?"

  She neatly trimmed the leaves off a stalk. "It wasn't hard to tell. Cancer?"

  A small muscle in Gregory's throat moved convulsively before he spoke. "Yes."

  "How bad is it?"

  She heard the ragged intake of his breath and her stomach knotted. "Not that bad," Gregory said but the expression in his eyes belied his words.

  She thought of Kath and Jenny, of their sunny smiles and beautiful faces and wondered how it would feel to know their time was limited. "Dear God," she whispered. "How does Mary Ann manage?"

  "She's a hell of a woman. She lives for that kid."

  Diana cut into another stalk of broccoli. Not for her. She would find the right man this time, a man who wanted her for all the things she was -- both good and not so good. She was old-fashioned enough to want the whole package and stubborn enough to believe she could actually get it. She would find the right man, form a solid marriage. She'd waited a long time to have a child and she was determined the father of that child would be as kind and honorable as -- well, as the man standing before her seemed to be. Without that foundation, the rest was no more than castles in the air. The kitchen door swung open and Diana and Gregory turned to see Joey Marino, Yankee cap slipping to one side, standing in the doorway.

  "Beach volleyball!" he announced, his narrow face lighting up with his smile. "Come on! We can't play without you."

  "What do you say?" Gregory filched a piece of broccoli and popped it into his mouth.

  The sweet sound of the girls' laughter floated in on the ocean breeze. The sky outside was deep blue; the sun, hot and bright. The refrigerator was stacked with delicious food and ice cold lemonade and beer and she was lucky enough to have a houseful of new friends to enjoy it. "Please," said Joey with that winning smile. "You can be on my team."

  The vision of her ex-husband and his pregnant girlfriend and their Independence Day wedding grew dimmer and dimmer then finally disappeared.

  "What the heck," Diana said, untying her apron and tossing it on the counter top. "Last one on the beach is a rotten egg."

  #

  They won the volleyball match, three games to one, and Diana knew full well that she hadn't contributed a heck of a lot to her team. From the moment Gregory stripped down to his swimming trunks, she was a goner. The sight of his broad, strong body clad in nothing more than a few scraps of cloth sent her temperature skyrocketing faster than the midday sun overhead.

  So much for her imagination -- his reality was far more impressive than anything her overheated mind had conjured up. Each time he leaped for a shot, muscles rippling, her mouth grew dry with something approaching terminal lust and she stood, rooted in place, while he did all the work -- and she had all the fun.

  Gregory was strong, fast, and devious and their opponents -- Mary Ann, Dave and Joey -- didn't stand a chance against him.


  "Another match?" Gregory challenged, tossing the ball to Joey.

  "Forget it," said Dave, collapsing on the sand next to Peggy who'd been playing with the twins. "I'm dead."

  "I'm going back to the house and diving into the pool," said Mary Ann, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "I may even eat dinner in the pool."

  Joey twirled the volleyball on the tip off his index finger. "Ma, can I -- "

  Mary Ann grabbed the volleyball and lobbed it back to Gregory. "No, you can't," she said. "Remember the buddy system? I need someone around in case I fall asleep in the middle of the pool."

  Gregory turned to Diana. "Would you like to -- "

  "Forget it! Being on your team is one thing; playing against you is something else."

  "I was going to ask if you wanted to take a walk up the beach with me."

  "What about the twins?"

  "Don't worry about them," said Peggy. "Dave and I need the practice."

  Diana hesitated. "I don't know if -- "

  "Go ahead," said Dave. "We might as well see what's ahead of us two years down the road."

  Apparently that was enough for Gregory because he took Diana by the elbow and propelled her down toward the water and away from his friends.

  "I didn't say yes yet," Diana said as she fell into step with him.

  "You were going to."

  "You didn't give me a chance."

  "Who has time to wait?" he countered. "This might be the last chance I have all day to get you alone."

  A delicious shiver raced up her spine despite the hot sun on her back and the warm water lapping about her ankles. "We're hardly alone," she said, gesturing toward the crowds of people sunning and swimming up and down the beach.

  "Damn shame," said Gregory, draping an arm casually about her shoulder.

  Okay, she thought as they strolled along the water's edge. It's a friendly gesture. Don't go reading anything else into it. Just because she'd been out of the mainstream for a while was no reason to start hyperventilating like a lovestruck maiden, was it? She cast about for a safe, non-sexual topic of conversation. "You're a terrific volleyball player," she offered. "Where'd you learn?"

  "California," he said. "You don't grow up on the beaches and not learn to play a decent game of volleyball."

  "I suppose you surf, too?"

  "Guilty. I'm a member of Beach Boys Anonymous."

  "The east coast must have come as a shock to your system."

  "Only the weather," he said, steering her around a large and wicked-looking jellyfish spread across a spray of seaweed. "It took me three years to discover winter has compensations."

  "Let me guess: you learned to ski."

  He laughed and drew her closer until the heat of his skin burned through the thin cotton of her t-shirt. "There's no substitute for getting physical," he said. "At least none worth talking about."

  "I spent six months in California after my divorce. If I never see another surfboard again it'll be too soon."

  "Not the outdoor type?"

  She gave him a look. "Not exactly."

  His smile was wicked. "Indoor sports aren't bad."

  "No," she said, "I suppose they're not." She'd seen how he handled the outdoor variety; she could only dream about how he would handle the indoor. Time to change the subject again. "My ex-husband is an intellectual who didn't believe in expending any more energy than necessary. Going out for the Sunday paper was enough exercise for both of us."

  Gregory's eyebrows lifted. "He's marrying a pregnant cheerleader -- he must have expended some energy with her."

  "Male menopause," Diana said dryly. "It happens to the best of your gender."

  "That why he left?"

  "He didn't leave, Gregory. It was a mutual decision."

  "You can tell me it's none of my business."

  "It is none of your business, but I don't mind telling you. He wanted kids; I didn't. Simple as that."

  "Any regrets?"

  She was silent for a moment as they passed a group of toddlers playing at the water's edge under the eagle-eyed supervision of three young women in maternity swim suits. "The time wasn't right for me then."

  "What about now?"

  "The time's right," she said with a rueful laugh. "Unfortunately, I no longer have a husband." She thought about telling him of her Great Labor Day Husband Hunt but thought better of it. She'd only be in East Hampton for the month; why scare the man off?

  "Bad timing's probably killed more relationships than infidelity," he said.

  She thought about what he'd told her earlier about his fiancee. "Then I guess we have something in common."

  He stopped abruptly. "You mean, besides this?"

  Before she knew what hit her, she was in his arms and his mouth was covering hers in a kiss as breathtakingly sexual as it was sweet. Unfortunately by the time she recovered from the surprise, he broke the kiss and brushed a lock of hair away from her mouth with a proprietary tenderness that was nearly her undoing.

  "Why did you -- "

  He touched her lips with his forefinger. "Because the timing was right."

  "Yes," said Diana, her voice soft with pleasure. "I guess it was at that."

  #

  If Gregory had had his way, that kiss on the beach would have led into other, more intense pleasures. However, the beach was crowded with Fourth of July revelers and back at Gull Cottage, a number of nosy friends awaited his return.

  The timing may have been right but it sure hadn't been perfect and it was with great reluctance that he led Diana back to the party.

  Peggy and Dave were still sitting on the sand with the twins and Diana stopped to admire the sand castle the little girls were laboriously constructing with more enthusiasm than skill. His gaze lingered on the curve of her breasts as she crouched down near the sand castle and he quickly glanced away as he caught Dave and Peggy exchange amused looks.

  "Want me to start the barbecue?" he asked Diana.

  "Terrific," she said, looking up at him, her hazel eyes wide and lovely. "I'd appreciate it."

  He turned and headed toward the beach steps, positive he'd only have to look at the coals and they'd start burning.

  Mary Ann was drifting quietly on an inflatable raft. Her eyes were closed and he wasn't about to announce his arrival and face her intense -- and nosy -- questioning about his relationship with Diana.

  What relationship? he thought as he piled charcoal into the barbecue grill. With Diana due to leave Gull Cottage at the end of the month and Gregory prepared to leave East Hampton by the fifteenth of August, the best they could manage would be a short-lived summer romance. Unfortunately, he had the distinct feeling that short-lived summer romances weren't what Diana Travis was all about. The look of permanence was all over her lovely face and permanence was the one thing he couldn't offer.

  So why then was he finding it so damned hard to pull away?

  Gregory had no answer to that question -- or to a number of other questions plaguing him -- and so he turned his full attention to the matter of hand: getting the barbecue started.

  Maybe it was the call of some distant ancestor, but there was something downright atavistic about his attraction to fire, in general, and barbecue grills, in particular. Granted, trekking off to the wilds of the A&P meat counter for burgers and franks wasn't exactly like clubbing Big Foot and dragging him back to camp, but it satisfied some deeply-rooted need for male rituals that Phil Donahue had somehow forgotten to explore.

  Laughter rang out from the staircase leading up from the beach and he turned to see Diana, face flushed and smiling as the twins danced around her legs, hold out her hand to help Joey up the last few steps. Even in the uncompromising sunshine she looked lovely and hopeful and so deeply, innately maternal that something inside his chest twisted with pain and he averted his gaze.

  "Cow eyes," murmured a suddenly-vigilant Mary Ann from the swimming pool.

  "Shut up," muttered Greg, brandishing the serving fork
in her direction, "or I'll puncture your float."

  Diana, Joey and the twins strolled over to the barbecue.

  "Where are Dave and Peggy?" Gregory asked. "Don't tell me she's having false labor again?"

  Diana laughed and steered the girls away from the grill. "I don't know whether it's false labor or not but she's not feeling too hot. Dave's walking her along the shore to see if the discomfort passes."

  "It'll pass," said Gregory with a shake of his head. "That baby's going to hang on as long as possible."

  "I have a feeling today's the day," Diana said.

  "The baby hasn't dropped yet," Mary Ann offered up from the middle of the swimming pool. "She still has awhile to go."

  "Today," Diana repeated. "I have a sixth sense about these things."

  "Do you have any kids?"

  "No, but -- "

  "Talk to me after you've gone through labor," Mary Ann said. "Believe me, it isn't her time yet."

  "It is," said Diana. "Mark my words."

  Gregory busied himself at the barbecue in an attempt to hide the grin on his face. Few people stood up to the opinionated Mary Ann Marino and it was fun to see his receptionist set down a peg or two.

  "Another five minutes and the coals will be red hot," he announced. "You can start cooking any time."

  "Terrific," said Diana, taking her nieces by their hands. "We'll bring out the burgers and franks."

  Joey cleared his throat. Patches of scarlet colored his sunken cheeks. "Can I help?"

  Diana glanced at Mary Ann, who nodded slightly, then favored the boy with a dazzling smile. "Come on, Joey," she said, her voice warm and friendly. "I could use a strong pair of arms to carry things out."

  Joey trailed after Diana into the house. Gregory could almost hear the sound of violins in the air.

  Smart kid.

  #

  There was something about sitting around a picnic table with a woman nine months and two weeks pregnant that had an odd effect on conversation.

  Peggy's discomfort hadn't let up. Twice during the salads she'd risen to her feet and they all held their collective breath, waiting for the announcement that it was time to go to the hospital. Both times Peggy had shrugged in defeat then sat back down to enjoy the feast while her poor husband Dave grew older before their eyes.