Be My Valentine

by Debbie Macomber

  “You really mean it, don’t you?”

  She was already halfway to the front door. “Yes.”

  “All right. Fine,” he said, slicing the air with his hands. “If this is the way you want it, then fine, just fine.” With that he stormed off to his car.

  Dianne knew her family would give her all kinds of flack. The minute she walked in the door, Jason and Jill barraged her with questions about the dinner. Dianne was as vague as possible and walked upstairs to her room, pleading exhaustion. There must have been something in her eyes that convinced her mother and children to leave her alone, because no one disturbed her again that night.

  She awoke early the next morning, feeling more than a little out of sorts. Jason was already up, eating a huge bowl of cornflakes at the kitchen table.

  “Well,” he said, when Dianne walked into the kitchen, “when are you going to see Steve again?”

  “Uh, I don’t know.” She put on a pot of coffee, doing her best to shove every thought of her dinner companion from her mind. And not succeeding.

  “He wants to go out on another date with you, doesn’t he?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure.”

  “You’re not sure?” Jason asked. “How come? I saw you two get mushy last night. I like Steve. He’s fun.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said, standing in front of the machine while the coffee dripped into the glass pot. Her back was to her son. “Let’s give it some time. See how things work out,” she mumbled.

  To Dianne’s relief, he seemed to accept that and didn’t question her further. That, however, wasn’t the case with her mother.

  “So talk to me,” Martha insisted later that day, working her crochet hook as she sat in the living room with Dianne. “You’ve been very quiet.”

  “No, I haven’t.” Dianne didn’t know why she denied it. Her mother was right, she had been introspective.

  “The phone isn’t ringing. The phone should be ringing.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Steve. He met your mother, he met your children, he took you out to dinner…”

  “You make it sound like we should be discussing wedding plans.” Dianne had intended to be flippant, but the look her mother gave her said she shouldn’t joke about something so sacred.

  “When are you seeing him again?” Her mother tugged on her ball of yarn when Dianne didn’t immediately answer, as if that might bring forth a response.

  “We’re both going to be busy for the next few days.”

  “Busy? You’re going to let busy interfere with love?”

  Dianne ignored the question. It was easier that way. Her mother plied her with questions on and off for the rest of the day, but after repeated attempts to get something more out of her daughter and not succeeding, Martha reluctantly let the matter drop.

  Three days after the Valentine’s dinner, Dianne was shopping after work at a grocery store on the other side of town—she avoided going anywhere near the one around which she and Steve had fabricated their story—when she ran into Beth Martin.

  “Dianne,” Beth called, racing down the aisle after her. Darn, Dianne thought. The last person she wanted to chitchat with was Beth, who would, no doubt, be filled with questions about her and Steve.

  She was.

  “I’ve been meaning to phone you all week,” Beth said, her smile so sweet Dianne felt as if she’d fallen into a vat of honey.

  “Hello, Beth.” She made a pretense of scanning the grocery shelf until she realized she was standing in front of the disposable-diaper section. She jerked away as though she’d been burned.

  Beth’s gaze followed Dianne’s. “You know, you’re not too old to have more children,” she said. “What are you? Thirty-three, thirty-four?”

  “Around that.”

  “If Steve wanted children, you could—”

  “I have no intention of marrying Steve Creighton,” Dianne answered testily. “We’re nothing more than friends.”

  Beth arched her eyebrows. “My dear girl, that’s not what I’ve heard. All of Port Blossom is buzzing with talk about the two of you. Steve’s been such an elusive bachelor. He dates a lot of women, or so I’ve heard, but from what everyone’s saying, and I do mean everyone, you’ve got him hooked. Why, the way he was looking at you on Saturday night was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I don’t know what you did to that man, but he’s yours for the asking.”

  “I’m sure you’re mistaken.” Dianne couldn’t very well announce that she’d paid Steve to look besotted. He’d done such a good job of it, he’d convinced himself and everyone else that he was head over heels in love with her.

  Beth grinned. “I don’t think so.”

  As quickly as she could, Dianne made her excuses, paid for her groceries and hurried home. Home, she soon discovered, wasn’t exactly a haven. Jason and Jill were waiting for her, and it wasn’t because they were eager to carry in the grocery sacks.

  “It’s been three days,” Jill said. “Shouldn’t you have heard from Steve by now?”

  “If he doesn’t phone you, then you should call him,” Jason insisted. “Girls do that sort of thing all the time now, no matter what Grandma says.”

  “I…” Dianne looked for an escape. Of course there wasn’t one.

  “Here’s his card,” Jason said, taking it from the corner of the bulletin board. “Call him.”

  Dianne stared at the raised red lettering. Port Blossom Towing, it said, with the phone number in large numbers below. In the corner, in smaller, less-pronounced lettering, was Steve’s name, followed by one simple word: owner.

  Dianne’s heart plummeted and she closed her eyes. He’d really meant it when he said he had never intentionally misled her. He assumed she knew, and with good reason. The business card he’d given her spelled it out. Only she hadn’t noticed…

  “Mom.” Jason’s voice fragmented her introspection.

  She opened her eyes to see her son and daughter staring up at her, their eyes, so like her own, intent and worried.

  “What are you going to do?” Jill wanted to know.

  “W.A.R.”

  “Aerobics?” Jason said. “What for?”

  “I need it,” Dianne answered. And she did. She’d learned long ago that when something was weighing on her, heavy-duty exercise helped considerably. It cleared her mind. She didn’t enjoy it, exactly; pain rarely thrilled her. But the aerobics classes at the community center had seen her through more than one emotional trauma. If she hurried, she could be there for the last session of the afternoon.

  “Kids, put those groceries away for me, will you?” she said, heading for the stairs, yanking the sweater over her head as she raced. The buttons on her blouse were too time-consuming, so she peeled that over her head the moment she entered the bedroom, closing the door with her foot.

  In five minutes flat, she’d changed into her leotard, kissed the kids and was out the door. She had a small attack of guilt when she pulled out of the driveway and glanced back to see both her children standing on the porch looking dejected.

  The warm-up exercises had already begun when Dianne joined the class. For the next hour she leapt, kicked, bent and stretched, doing her best to keep up with everyone else. By the end of the session, she was exhausted—and no closer to deciding whether or not to phone Steve.

  With a towel draped around her neck, she walked out to her car. Her cardiovascular system might’ve been fine, but nothing else about her was. She searched through her purse for her keys and then checked her coat pocket.

  Nothing.

  Dread filled her. Framing the sides of her face with her hands, she peered inside the car. There, innocently poking out of the ignition, were her keys.

  Ten

  “Jason,” Dianne said, closing her eyes in thanks that it was her son who’d answered the phone and not Jill. Her daughter would have plied her with questions and more advice than “Dear Abby.”

  “Hi, Mom. I thought you were at aerobics.”

  “
I am, and I may be here a whole lot longer if you can’t help me out.” Without a pause, she continued, “I need you to go upstairs, look in my underwear drawer and bring me the extra set of car keys.”

  “They’re in your underwear drawer?”

  “Yes.” It was the desperate plan of a desperate woman. She didn’t dare contact the auto club this time for fear they’d send Port Blossom Towing to the rescue in the form of one Steve Creighton.

  “You don’t expect me to paw through your, uh, stuff, do you?”

  “Jason, listen to me, I’ve locked my keys in the car, and I don’t have any other choice.”

  “You locked your keys in the car? Again? What’s with you lately, Mom?”

  “Do we need to go through this now?” she demanded. Jason wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t already said to herself a hundred times over the past few minutes. She was so agitated it was a struggle not to break down and weep.

  “I’ll have Jill get the keys for me,” Jason agreed, with a sigh that told her it demanded a good deal of effort, not to mention fortitude, for him to comply with this request.

  “Great. Thanks.” Dianne breathed out in relief. “Okay. Now, the next thing you need to do is get your bicycle out of the garage and ride it down to the community center.”

  “You mean you want me to bring you the keys?”

  “Yes.”

  “But it’s raining!”

  “It’s only drizzling.” True, but as a general rule Dianne didn’t like her son riding his bike in the winter.

  “But it’s getting dark,” Jason protested next.

  That did concern Dianne. “Okay, you’re right. Call Grandma and ask her to come over and get the keys from you and then have her bring them to me.”

  “You want me to call Grandma?”

  “Jason, are you hard of hearing? Yes, I want you to call Grandma, and if you can’t reach her, call me back here at the community center.” Needless to say, her cell phone was locked in the car. Again. “I’ll be waiting.” She read off the number for him. “And listen, if my car keys aren’t in my underwear drawer, have Grandma bring me a wire clothes hanger, okay?”

  He hesitated. “All right,” he said after another burdened sigh. “Are you sure you’re all right, Mom?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” But she was going to remember his attitude the next time he needed her to go on a Boy Scout camp-out with him.

  Jason seemed to take hours to do as she’d asked. Since the front desk was now busy with the after-work crowd, Dianne didn’t want to trouble the staff for the phone a second time to find out what was keeping her son.

  Forty minutes after Dianne’s aerobic class was over, she was still pacing the foyer of the community center, stopping every now and then to glance outside. Suddenly she saw a big red tow truck turn into the parking lot.

  She didn’t need to be psychic to know that the man driving the truck was Steve.

  Mumbling a curse under her breath, Dianne walked out into the parking lot to confront him.

  Steve was standing alongside her car when she approached. She noticed that he wasn’t wearing the gray-striped coveralls he’d worn the first time they’d met. Now he was dressed in slacks and a sweater, as though he’d come from the office.

  “What are you doing here?” The best defense was a good offense, or so her high-school basketball coach had advised her about a hundred years ago.

  “Jason called me,” he said, without looking at her.

  “The traitor,” Dianne muttered.

  “He said something about refusing to search through your underwear and his grandmother couldn’t be reached. And that all this has to do with you going off to war.”

  Although Steve was speaking in an even voice, it was clear he found the situation comical.

  “W.A.R. is my aerobics class,” Dianne explained stiffly. “It means Women After Results.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He walked around to the passenger side of the tow truck and brought out the instrument he’d used to open her door the first time. “So,” he said leaning against the side of her compact. “How have you been?”

  “Fine.”

  “You don’t look so good, but then I suppose that’s because you’re a divorced woman with two children and a manipulative mother.”

  Naturally he’d taunt her with that. “How kind of you to say so,” she returned with an equal dose of sarcasm.

  “How’s Jerome?”

  “Jerome?”

  “The butcher your mother wanted to set you up with,” he answered gruffly. “I figured by now the two of you would’ve gone out.” His words had a biting edge.

  “I’m not seeing Jerome.” The thought of having to eat blood sausage was enough to turn her stomach.

  “I’m surprised,” he said. “I would’ve figured you’d leap at the opportunity to date someone other than me.”

  “If I wasn’t interested in him before, what makes you think I’d go out with him now? And why aren’t you opening my door? That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

  He ignored her question. “Frankly, Dianne, we can’t go on meeting like this.”

  “Funny, very funny.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

  “Actually I came here to talk some sense into you,” he said after a moment.

  “According to my mother, you won’t have any chance of succeeding. I’m hopeless.”

  “I don’t believe that. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” He walked over to her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe, Dianne, you’ve been fine these past few days, but frankly I’ve been a wreck.”

  “You have?” As Dianne looked at him she thought she’d drown in his eyes. And when he smiled, it was all she could do not to cry.

  “I’ve never met a more stubborn woman in my life.”

  She blushed. “I’m awful, I know.”

  His gaze became more intent as he asked, “How about if we go someplace and talk?”

  “I…think that would be all right.” At the moment there was little she could refuse him. Until he’d arrived, she’d had no idea what to do about the situation between them. Now the answer was becoming clear….

  “You might want to call Jason and Jill and tell them.”

  “Oh, right, I should.” How could she have forgotten her own children?

  Steve was grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t worry, I already took care of that. While I was at it, I phoned your mother, too. She’s on her way to your house now. She’ll make the kids’ dinner.” He paused, then said, “I figured if I was fortunate enough, I might be able to talk you into having dinner with me. I understand Walker’s has an excellent seafood salad.”

  If he was fortunate enough, he might be able to talk her into having dinner with him? Dianne felt like weeping. Steve Creighton was the sweetest, kindest, handsomest man she’d ever met, and he was looking at her as if he was the one who should be counting his blessings.

  Steve promptly opened her car door. “I’m going to buy you a magnetic key attachment for keeping a spare key under your bumper so this doesn’t happen again.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes, otherwise I’ll worry about you.”

  No one had ever worried about her, except her immediate family. Whatever situation arose, she handled. Broken water pipes, lost checks, a leaky roof—nothing had ever defeated her. Not even Jack had been able to break her spirit, but one kind smile from Steve Creighton and she was a jumble of emotions. She blinked back tears and made a mess of thanking him, rushing her words so that they tumbled over each other.

  “Dianne?”

  She stopped and bit her lower lip. “Yes?”

  “Either we go to the restaurant now and talk, or I’m going to kiss you right here in this parking lot.”

  Despite everything, she managed to smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “No, but I doubt I’d be content with one kiss.”

  She lowered her lashes, thinking she probably wouldn’
t be, either. “I’ll meet you at Walker’s.”

  He followed her across town, which took less than five minutes, and pulled into the empty parking space next to hers. Once inside the restaurant, they were seated immediately by a window overlooking Sinclair Inlet.

  Dianne had just picked up her menu when Steve said, “I’d like to tell you a story.”

  “Okay,” she said, puzzled. She put the menu aside. Deciding what to eat took second place to listening to Steve.

  “It’s about a woman who first attracted the attention of a particular man at the community center about two months ago.”

  Dianne took a sip of water, her eyes meeting his above the glass, her heart thumping loudly in her ears. “Yes…”

  “This lady was oblivious to certain facts.”

  “Such as?” Dianne prompted.

  “First of all, she didn’t seem to have a clue how attractive she was or how much this guy admired her. He did everything but stand on his head to get her attention, but nothing worked.”

  “What exactly did he try?”

  “Working out at the same hours she did, pumping iron—and looking exceptionally good in his T-shirt and shorts.”

  “Why didn’t this man say something to…this woman?”

  Steve chuckled. “Well, you see, he was accustomed to women giving him plenty of attention. So this particular woman dented his pride by ignoring him, then she made him downright angry. Finally it occurred to him that she wasn’t purposely ignoring him—she simply wasn’t aware of him.”

  “It seems to me this man is rather arrogant.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  “You couldn’t?” Dianne was surprised.

  “That was when he decided there were plenty of fish in the sea and he didn’t need a pretty divorcée with two children—he’d asked around about her, so he knew a few details like that.”

  Dianne smoothed the pink linen napkin across her lap. “What happened next?”

  “He was sitting in his office one evening. The day had been busy and one of his men had phoned in sick, so he’d been out on the road all afternoon. He was ready to go home and take a hot shower, but just about then the phone rang. One of the night crew answered it and it was the auto club. Apparently some lady had locked her keys in her car at the community center and needed someone to come rescue her.”