A Very Merry Match--Includes a Bonus Novella

by Melinda Curtis

  Mary Margaret made a strangled sound.

  Edith spritzed perfume at her cleavage. “Don’t dodge the issue. Tell me what’s going on with you. Why do you need the truck?”

  “I told you, I don’t want to be recognized.” From the hallway, Mary Margaret blushed, which wasn’t a good look on a redhead. “Plus, it snowed last night, and I didn’t have the motorcycle’s chains with me. I left the bike in Greeley, and I need to go get it. Then there will be no more motor vehicle borrowing…On second thought, I can’t promise that. The next few months aren’t looking good for me.”

  Edith stopped fussing and focused on her granddaughter—the blush, the fidget, the need for secrecy. There was only one conclusion. “You’re in love with a married man.” She rubbed her forehead. “This is a disaster.”

  The Widows Club is going to kick me off the board.

  I need to elope with David first.

  Saving her the embarrassment of being stripped of her title.

  “I’m not having an affair with a married man.” Mary Margaret put her hands on her hips. “Do not go spreading that rumor to your friends.”

  “When I encouraged you to date, I thought you were ready. Well, maybe not as ready as I am, but I hoped you wouldn’t have a crisis like…like…like Lola did last spring. She nearly ran her life off the rails. And for what? Because she discovered her dead husband had cheated on her?” Edith paused, as another thought entered her head. “Did Derek cheat on you again? Is that what this is about?”

  Mary Margaret blocked the bathroom door. “Could you just tell me where you hid the truck keys?”

  Edith hid everything of value and rarely in the same place twice. “You didn’t answer.” Edith’s back went rigid. “That means yes. If Derek wasn’t dead, I’d kill that cheating rat turd.”

  Oh, heavenly days. Edith never used to use such strong language. What was happening to her?

  “Grandma Edith—”

  “And I felt sorry for Derek too. Dying of cancer. That’s no way to go. Unless you’re a lying cheat. In which case—”

  “Derek didn’t cheat on me!” Mary Margaret’s hands fluttered in the air. “Except that time in Vegas. But Grandma Edith, just slow down and stop worrying. I should be worrying about you. You’re dressed up for a night on the town, and it’s almost nine o’clock. What’s happening here?”

  Edith lifted her chin. “I’m going out.” She could be cagey about her personal life too. “What do you care? You never come over anymore. We never just cook and dance.”

  “First off…” Mary Margaret’s blush returned. “Neither one of us has wanted to dance in a long time.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Mary Margaret startled. “Who’s that?”

  “Your lover’s wife. She’s tracked you down.” Edith drew a calming breath. All they had was each other. And hopefully soon they’d have her husband-to-be, David. “Actually, that’s my date. And don’t you say anything about doubling. I won’t tolerate whining. I gave you your chance, and you decided to meet your married man incognito.”

  She opened the front door to the most sought-after bachelor in town. “Hello, David. I’m so glad we’re going out this evening. Did you enjoy your game?” She’d swung by the retirement home mid-afternoon and found him playing Mahjong with three widows. He was truly all the rage, and the sooner she took him off the market and away from the competition, the sooner she’d be able to sleep at night. “Look.” She pointed to the ceiling, posturing like a pin-up, because that’s what men liked. “Mistletoe.”

  David glanced up and then down at Edith with a sexy smile. “Can’t buck tradition.” He swooped in with a kiss.

  To her cheek.

  But still, Edith’s heart tripped through the matrimonial tulips.

  “I’d like her home by ten.” Mary Margaret stood behind Edith, frowning.

  “Such a kidder.” Edith turned and gave her granddaughter a look of intense disapproval.

  Edith ushered David inside and went to retrieve the truck keys from behind the cable box. Charlie had purchased the truck two years ago and paid for an onboard support system that could be used like a cell phone to call for help or as a tracking system if someone stole the truck. A waste of money, if you asked Edith.

  She dangled the key fob in front of Mary Margaret. “Last chance to tell me where you’re going.” And with whom.

  Mary Margaret wasn’t talking, other than to say thanks.

  Suddenly, all Edith’s battle gear constricted her airflow. The motorcycle. The Christmas tree farm. The lack of dancing. Mary Margaret was in trouble.

  “Is something wrong?” David asked when Mary Margaret was behind the wheel of the truck and Edith stood at the window watching her drive off.

  Edith should turn, roll her shoulders back, and smile. Men liked women who were no trouble and had no cares. Especially older men who didn’t wear orthopedic footwear. They were in the minority and had their pick of women.

  Normally, Edith had no problem putting herself first but Mary Margaret had been her rock when Charlie died. She’d held her hand through all the funeral arrangements, despite the fact that she’d just buried her own husband. They supported each other through thick and thin.

  Mary Margaret needs me.

  Behind Edith, her date shifted on his feet.

  If I let this chance slip away, Mims will get David for sure.

  And Edith hated to lose. But there was the welfare of her flesh and blood to consider.

  “David.” Edith faced her date but didn’t thrust her 18-hour assets his way. “How would you like to go on a little adventure?”

  His smile was slow growing but gratifying. And if she squinted, his smile was reminiscent of Charlie’s, whose framed picture was on the mantel.

  “We’ll need to gas up your car.” Edith checked her cell phone to make sure it was fully charged and then opened the app that tracked the location of Charlie’s truck. The one and only time she’d done so. “And I can’t promise you I’ll behave when we arrive at our destination.”

  If Mary Margaret was silly enough to get involved with a married man, Edith was going to put a stop to it, no matter the cost.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We need to have a talk about your mask.”

  “My mask?” Mary Margaret blew past Ned toward the exit. The show was over. The evening had been another uptick in the Hanky Panky’s success. But she’d pulled something in her neck during her second performance, causing a kink that felt as large as a lump of dried Play-Doh in her neck. She couldn’t hold her head up straight without causing a muscle spasm.

  “You should take the mask off at the end of the show.” Ned lumbered behind her, breathing heavy. “Throw the audience a bone. You’ve got a nice face. They might tip you more to see it.”

  They were still inside the club but they might just as well have stepped outside because Mary Margaret was suddenly as cold as ice. “The mask is part of Foxy Roxy’s mystique.”

  “I like her mask.” Didi trailed behind them. “I was going to ask to borrow one.”

  “The last thing you need is to cover up more,” Ned snapped.

  “The customers like it.” Mary Margaret turned stiffly, mindful of her twinging neck muscle. “In fact, your clientele is changing. You should probably consider adding male dancers too. I’ve seen bridal shower parties in here every time I dance.”

  “Me too.” Didi smiled, looking weary.

  “Male dancers?” Ned was horrified. “What would my regulars think?”

  “The guys who order the two-drink minimum?” The ones who tipped one-dollar bills? Mary Margaret shrugged, not the wisest of moves given her physical condition. She needed a heating pad and some Tylenol. “They won’t fund your retirement. Don’t cling to loyalty at the expense of profit.”

  “Roxy, you forgot to take your mask off.” Didi pointed at her face.

  “Oh, geez. I forgot. I’ll take it off when I get home.” Truth was, Mary Margaret had left her
mask on in case Kevin was waiting for her outside, not that she’d seen him in the audience, but the bigger the crowd, the harder it was to make out individual faces. “Can someone help me put my motorcycle in the back of my truck?”

  “Not it,” Ned grumbled, returning to the bowels of the club. “Bad back.”

  “Oh, shoot.” Didi glanced over her shoulder. “I forgot my biology flash cards in the dressing room. If you wait a minute, I can help.”

  “I’ll lower the tailgate and bring the bike over.” Mary Margaret opened the back door and froze.

  Grandma Edith stood a few feet away.

  Mask. Knit cap. Hoodie. There was a chance her grandmother wouldn’t recognize her.

  Mary Margaret ducked her head and started to walk past.

  “This is the reason you’ve been sneaking around?” Grandma Edith’s low heels clacked on the snowplowed pavement as she fell into step with Mary Margaret.

  So much for wishful thinking.

  Mary Margaret pulled up short. “How did you find me?”

  “The truck is one of those smart cars that you can track on the internet.” She eyed Mary Margaret up and down. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you’ve got a second job at this place.” She sounded betrayed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re waiting tables here…with a mask on.”

  “That sounds about right,” Mary Margaret fibbed. After all, Grandma Edith would never go inside a club like this. “Why are you here?” At her age, waiting in the cold couldn’t be good for her.

  Grandma Edith’s brow furrowed. “I was worried about you. I thought you were in trouble. I had to pick you up from the hospital once, you know.”

  She knew. Mary Margaret rubbed her neck, trying to loosen up the muscle and the guilt. Instead, she felt relief that her grandmother hadn’t watched her dance. “What about your date?”

  “David’s at the coffee shop. He thinks I went to the ladies’ room.” Edith turned and headed that way. “I can’t think with this girdle on. We’ll talk tomorrow. Meet me at the Saddle Horn for breakfast.”

  Mary Margaret drew a deep breath.

  At least she didn’t call me a sinner.

  But still, guilt raked at Mary Margaret’s insides. She wanted to tell her grandmother the truth but she couldn’t risk it. Grandma Edith was a leaky sieve when it came to secrets.

  Mary Margaret sighed and headed for her grandfather’s truck.

  Laurel and Hardy came around from the front, looking grumpy and cold.

  “I was wondering how you could make your payments.” Mr. Hardy rested one arm on the truck bed and used his free hand to make a gimme motion. “We’ll take whatever you made tonight.”

  Mary Margaret flinched, and the pinched nerve in her neck nearly caused her to fall over. “How did you find me?” She dug in her purse and handed over her cash. “I need a receipt for that.”

  “We followed your granny,” Mr. Laurel said while his partner counted her money. “You’re a good dancer. Even your granny thought so.” He put a fresh red stir stick in his mouth.

  “She saw me?” Mary Margaret’s neck twinged once more. She’d hoped to dance without being found out until spring. She hadn’t lasted until Christmas. “She came inside?”

  “I bought her and her date tickets,” Mr. Laurel said with a rare grin. “It was the least I could do after she led us here.”

  Mary Margaret wheezed. It was worse than she thought.

  “My man here tried to steal your granny from her date.” Mr. Hardy removed an envelope from his pocket and tucked Mary Margaret’s bills inside. He tsked. “Always thinking he’s a Romeo.”

  Mr. Laurel shrugged, practically blushing. “I like my women seasoned.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” Mary Margaret bent over and tried to breathe through the nausea.

  The tall thug bent to her level. “You don’t think I’m good enough for your granny?” His question came bullet fast.

  “I’m afraid you…” She drew herself up and swallowed back bile. “I’m afraid you’ll hurt her if I can’t make money fast enough.”

  Mr. Laurel spit out his stir stick, scowl deepening. “I would break your legs before my woman’s.”

  “That’s comforting.” Not. Mr. Laurel was in a questionable profession. She preferred not to call him Grandpa someday.

  Laurel and Hardy turned to go without having given her a receipt. Not that she’d actually expected one.

  Didi still hadn’t reappeared—which kept her safe, Mary Margaret supposed.

  “Hey, I need help.” Mary Margaret thought she was about as low as she could get, asking Laurel and Hardy for assistance.

  The men faced her with closed-off expressions.

  “I need to get my motorcycle in the back of the pick-up.” She tried smiling but it felt more like a grimace. “Do a girl a solid.”

  Surprisingly, they did.

  Maybe they were starting to like her.

  Or perhaps they pitied her.

  Mary Margaret didn’t know which was worse.

  Chapter Fifteen

  What are you doing here?” Barb scowled at Kevin when he showed up at her house on Sunday morning. It was only seven-thirty but she was dressed and had makeup on. Odd, since she didn’t go to church. “You need to call before you come over.”

  “I need to talk to you about Tad.” He should have talked to her before this.

  “Babe?” A deep, masculine voice carried from inside the house.

  Barb flinched.

  “Is that…” Kevin stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Is that a man? Did you…while Tad was here?”

  Barb had a really good poker face but her expression cracked, showing her derision. “If you remember, you turned me down.”

  “Babe?” That voice.

  Kevin knew it from somewhere.

  “So…what?” Kevin craned his neck to see past her. “You just called the next guy on your list?”

  A man in a blue terry cloth bathrobe appeared in the hallway. “Oh, hey, Kev. How’s it going?”

  “Iggy,” Kevin said in a hard voice, hoping Paul and Paula didn’t find out about this. “That robe looks better on you than it ever did on me.”

  Barb very carefully kept her back to Iggy but her cheeks were turning red.

  “Thanks, buddy.” Iggy apparently had no qualms about Kevin finding him in his old house and his old bathrobe. “Want some coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” Kevin felt more like starting his day with a stiff shot of whiskey.

  “Daddy!” Tad ran into the foyer wearing ninja jammies. “We had a sleepover.”

  “Goody,” Kevin murmured. So much for wondering how Barb had explained her lover’s presence.

  Tad grabbed on to Kevin’s hand. “Do you want to go to the Saddle Horn?”

  “I’d love to. Put some clothes on. I’ll wait.” Outside, where the temperature was warmer than inside.

  Tad ran back to his room.

  “Coffee’s ready.” Iggy headed for the kitchen. “I’ll just grab myself a cup.”

  “You have Tad three nights a week, Barb.” Kevin said in a hard, low voice. “We agreed there would be no sleepovers during those nights.”

  Barb’s scrutiny was intense. “Are you jealous?”

  “No.” He meant it too. Their divorce had been hard enough on Tad without him seeing Mommy sleep over with a man she had no intention of dating, much less marrying. “I never broke the rules when we were married. And you’ve been doing it nonstop. I came here this morning because I wanted to talk about Tad. A five-year-old shouldn’t be on a diet. Kids pack on weight, and then they grow. He’s the child of divorce. He doesn’t need you giving him a complex about food too, in addition to that.” Kevin waved a hand toward the kitchen.

  “Childhood obesity is a serious issue, Kev.” Barb grabbed the edge of the door as if prepared to shut him out.

  “Agreed, but that isn’t Tad’s problem.”

  “I disagree.” Apparently, she and Kevin d
idn’t see eye to eye on much anymore.

  “I’ll make him an appointment at Dr. Arnett’s.” The town doctor. “He’ll be the judge.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  Tad ran out the door and didn’t stop until he reached Kevin’s SUV. “Come on, Daddy. This ninja needs breakfast.”

  Without another word, Barb shut the door in Kevin’s face.

  Kevin stalked back to the SUV, knowing it would take more than a hot chocolate at the Saddle Horn to diffuse his mood. “Let’s invite Grandma and Grandpa along.”

  “Sweet!” Tad was already buckled in.

  His parents were happy to accompany them so Kevin swung by to pick them up.

  Tad ran to the door and rang the bell like it was a button on a video game controller.

  Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong.

  “Who’s there?” Kevin’s dad opened the door and stared over Tad’s head as if he didn’t see him.

  “It’s me! It’s me!” Tad jumped up and down, waving his arms.

  Dad opened the door and welcomed them in. He did a double take when he saw Kevin’s face. “I can tell you’ve had words with the ex this morning. How about an Irish coffee before we go to breakfast?”

  “I’ll just take the Irish.” Meaning a shot of whiskey.

  “Coming right up.” True to his word, Dad went straight to the wet bar in the living room. “Have you heard anything else after that political meeting you had?”

  “No.” Kevin bit back a frustrated growl. “It’s the holiday season. They’re probably busy.” Investigating his almost-girlfriend, who he still needed to inform of that fact.

  “No need to rush.” His father sounded upbeat, maybe even relieved.

  Kevin’s head hurt.

  “Daddy! Come look at their Christmas tree. It’s all silver and black.” Tad danced around it. “And look! There’s a ninja!”