Welcome to Serenity

by Sherryl Woods

  “I’ll just have a bowl of soup,” she said without glancing at the menu.

  “The gazpacho is excellent,” Jeanette said.

  “Too spicy,” his mother said.

  “They put homemade noodles in their chicken soup,” Tom said, starting to sound a little desperate.

  “I’m not ill,” his mother replied tartly. “I believe I’ll try the lentil soup.”

  Tom regarded her with relief. “I’ll get the waitress,” he said eagerly. Apparently his enthusiasm for this adventure had died and he was now as anxious to have this meal over and done with as Jeanette was.

  He placed their orders. Jeanette placed her own and then Tom sat back and regarded the two of them expectantly. When his mother remained grimly silent, so did Jeanette. Under the table he placed a hand on her thigh and then gave her an imploring look. She relented. She could at least make an effort. If it blew up in her face, well, she’d warned Tom his expectations were too high.

  “Mrs. McDonald, I understand you’re involved with a number of charity functions. Are you working on anything now?”

  Tom beamed at her gratefully. His mother looked as if she wanted to ignore the question, but when he scowled at her, she gave in.

  “The ball for the cancer society is coming up,” she said grudgingly.

  “That’s always been one of the most successful events in Charleston,” Jeanette said, then added, “We used to get a lot of clients in the days leading up to that. Everyone wanted to look their absolute best.”

  The second the words were out of her mouth, she knew she’d said exactly the wrong thing. She’d just reminded Mrs. McDonald what she did for a living and where she’d previously worked. Worse, if she wasn’t mistaken, Mrs. McDonald had come into Chez Bella’s prior to the cancer ball for the treatment that had resulted in so much misplaced animosity.

  The older woman gave her a smug look. “You see, Tom, it’s just as I’ve always told you. These events aren’t a frivolous waste of time for the rich. A lot of people rely on them to make money.” She turned to Jeanette. “I’m sure you counted on those tips to make ends meet, didn’t you? Even in Charleston’s less established neighborhoods, housing is expensive.”

  Jeanette refused to be baited. “Actually, Bella paid me handsomely, but my clients were always very generous, as well. They are here, too. I like to think it’s because I give them excellent service.” And not because they wanted to be sure she could afford to keep a roof over her head, which was what Mrs. McDonald was trying so hard to imply. She forced a smile. “But it’s never been about the money for me. I love what I do. And it’s been very rewarding to build a new spa from the ground up, to be in demand with a whole new clientele, many of whom never thought of getting a spa treatment before we opened here.”

  “Then you’ve priced these treatments for the masses?” Mrs. McDonald said derisively. “I’ve always held the belief that people get what they pay for.”

  Jeanette was rapidly losing patience. Her hold on her temper was one fragile thread away from snapping. Apparently Tom sensed it.

  “Mother, why don’t you tell Jeanette about the cruise you and Dad are planning in January.”

  His mother smiled at him, her expression doting. Even Jeanette, as biased as she was, could see her love for her son shining in her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t all bad. If Jeanette really set her mind to it, maybe she could give Mrs. McDonald the benefit of the doubt. She owed that much to Tom.

  “I’m surprised you remembered we were going with all you have to do,” Mrs. McDonald said.

  Jeanette figured he was probably looking forward to her absence, but of course she couldn’t say that, not with her resolution to be more open-minded so fresh.

  Mrs. McDonald turned to Jeanette. “We’re taking a two-week cruise in the Caribbean,” she said, then added pointedly, “All of it first-class, including a magnificent spa.”

  “Which cruise line?” Jeanette inquired.

  When Mrs. McDonald named it, her tone superior, Jeanette nodded. “Of course, I know Laine Walker very well. She’s in charge of their spa services.”

  Mrs. McDonald looked taken aback. “You know Laine?”

  Jeanette nodded. “She trained with me in Paris.”

  To her satisfaction, Mrs. McDonald’s mouth gaped. “You trained in Paris?” she repeated incredulously.

  “For several years,” she told her, triumphant at having thrown her so completely. “That’s where Bella found me. I was working at one of the most exclusive spas in the city when she convinced me to come to Charleston. I’d missed home, so I accepted her very generous offer.”

  “I had no idea,” Mrs. McDonald murmured and fell silent.

  The rest of the meal went smoothly enough with Tom leading the conversation and doing his best to make sure he included both of them. He stuck to safe, neutral topics—the food, the weather, favorite restaurants in Charleston.

  When those topics were exhausted, Jeanette glanced at her watch and stood. “I’m sorry to have to run, but I need to get back to work. I have a full schedule of clients this afternoon.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Tom said. “Mother, why don’t you take a look at the dessert menu.”

  “Goodbye, Mrs. McDonald,” Jeanette said, unable to add that it had been a pleasure to see her, when it had been stiff and awkward.

  Outside, Tom uttered an audible sigh of relief. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Compared to torture?”

  “Come on,” he coaxed. “At least she tried.”

  “No, at least she didn’t dump her meal in my lap,” Jeanette corrected. “She wanted to, though. I could see it in her eyes.”

  “That was before you mentioned training in Paris. You took the wind right out of her sails with that one. Why didn’t I know about Paris?”

  “You never asked,” she said simply. “As for your mother, she’ll probably never look at Paris quite the same way again, now that it’s been tainted by the likes of me.”

  “Can’t you please give her a break?”

  “I just did,” she reminded him. “I didn’t walk out on both of you.”

  “You really don’t think it went well?”

  She regarded him with astonishment. “Were you there?”

  “Of course I was. There was no water dumped, no food thrown, no bloodshed. I consider it a success.”

  “Then obviously you had very low expectations,” she told him.

  He shrugged. “Can you blame me? The two of you got off on a bad foot back in Charleston. Her fault,” he hastened to add. “Peace isn’t going to happen overnight. Eventually the two of you will be able to laugh about what happened.”

  She shook her head. “Please, please, please, do not ever ask me to do this again. She’s your mother and I don’t mean to insult her or you, but I don’t like her. She doesn’t like me. Let’s just call it a draw and be done with it.”

  “I don’t think I can do that,” Tom said.

  “Why not?”

  “It’ll be damn awkward at the wedding,” he said, then kissed her hard and walked away.

  Jeanette stared after him, openmouthed with shock. Wedding? Was he crazy? It was the second time he’d said something like that, and while she was flattered, maybe even a little tempted, she knew with one hundred percent certainty that she couldn’t marry into a family like his. She couldn’t marry him. She hadn’t even reached the point where she was willing to date him.

  She rubbed her still-tingling lips. Sex with him, on the other hand, might be a distinct possibility.

  * * *

  Tom whistled as he returned to his office, which had Teresa regarding him with undisguised curiosity.

  “You’re in a good mood,” she said. “Does it have something to do with the lunch you just had with Jeanet
te at Sullivan’s?”

  “Jeanette and my mother, which you already knew,” he reminded her. “I know you check the calendar I keep every day now to be sure I’m not scheduling things you don’t know about.”

  “Wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t know what you were up to during office hours.” She smiled. “So, lunch went well?” She sounded incredulous.

  “Truthfully, lunch was a little tense,” he admitted. “But I have high hopes for later tonight.”

  “I assume you’re referring to an evening with Jeanette and not your mother,” she said.

  “Of course. Hold my calls. I need to make some plans.”

  Teresa followed him into his office. “What are you up to?”

  “None of your business,” he said.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, you have a very strange way of courting a woman.”

  “I repeat, none of your business.”

  Teresa was undeterred. “Do you want Jeanette or not?”

  He sighed, sat down behind his desk and looked up at her. He should have known his secretary would have an opinion about this. “Obviously you think I’m going about it all wrong.”

  “Well, duh! You took her to lunch with your mother, a woman she despises, from everything I hear.” She gave him a wry look. “And we both know I hear quite a lot.”

  “Agreed,” he conceded.

  “Yet you think Jeanette’s going to be eager to spend a romantic evening with you?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. She’s probably hightailing it out of town, as we speak.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “Read my lips. Because you subjected her to an hour with your mother, whom she hates. And based on my experience over the whole drapery project, I don’t blame her,” she said. “If you’ll pardon me for saying so.”

  He waved off the apology. He could hardly argue the point.

  “Look, I was trying to bridge the gap between them, make peace, open the lines of communication.”

  “Ha! I imagine all you did was remind both of them that they don’t like each other. Trust me, that does not work in your favor.”

  “What am I doing having this conversation with you?” he muttered. “It’s completely inappropriate.”

  “You need my help,” Teresa replied. “Like most men, you are clueless when it comes to women, especially Jeanette, who has not dated anyone since she moved to Serenity three years ago. She has a hard-and-fast rule about dating. If you expect her to break that rule, you need to be offering more than a guaranteed conflict with your mother.”

  “Some people consider me a good catch,” he told Teresa.

  “Maybe you are. The jury’s still out on that around here. All I’m saying is you’re going to have to strut your stuff if you want Jeanette.”

  He stared at her. “Strut my stuff? What the hell does that mean?”

  “Show her the kind of man you are. Treat her with dignity and respect. Woo her. And for goodness’ sake, leave your mother out of it.”

  He would dearly love to leave his mother out of it, but she was already a bone of contention. He seriously doubted any of them could pretend otherwise.

  “Okay, Ms. Lonely Hearts, what should I do next? I can’t keep sending Jeanette scones and bread pudding or dropping by with her favorite pizza.”

  Teresa sat down, her expression thoughtful. “Just how much money do you have?”

  Tom nearly choked at the question. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not asking to see your bank statement,” she said. “I’m just wondering if you have enough to do something completely over the top.”

  “Such as?”

  “Flying her to Paris for dinner,” she said, her expression dreamy. “Jeanette wouldn’t be able to resist a man who did something like that. She loved living in Paris.”

  For a moment, Tom actually considered the idea, then dismissed it. He doubted he could convince Jeanette to take a day trip to Savannah with him, much less an excursion to Paris.

  “I think we’d better forget about Paris for the time being,” he told her.

  “Well, taking her bowling’s not going to do it,” Teresa said.

  Tom’s head was starting to reel. “Who said anything about bowling?”

  “There’s not a lot else to do in Serenity.”

  “I don’t think Jeanette moved here for the exciting nightlife,” Tom said. “Teresa, I appreciate your input, I really do, but I think I’d better follow my own instincts about this.” He met her gaze. “And let’s make this the very last conversation we have about my love life, okay?”

  “Suits me,” she said, standing up and heading toward her own office. She glanced back over her shoulder. “But just to be clear, from what I can tell, you don’t actually have a love life.”

  Clearly miffed, she walked out and shut the door behind her with a little more force than necessary.

  “Thanks for pointing that out!” Tom called after her.

  “My pleasure!” she shouted back.

  Tom shook his head. Only several weeks ago his life had been on track, serene even. Yet in such a short time, he’d managed to get himself caught up with a disapproving mother, a meddling secretary and a fascinating woman who claimed to want nothing to do with him. Apparently fate really did enjoy having its little laughs.

  * * *

  Jeanette gave herself a stern lecture as she changed back into her work clothes. She was not going to let that ridiculous lunch with Mrs. McDonald get under her skin. She was not going to take out her frustration on her clients. She was going to be pleasant for the rest of the afternoon if it killed her. And she absolutely, positively was not going to think about that kiss Tom had laid on her on the sidewalk in front of Sullivan’s and yet another mention of marriage.

  Half the town had probably heard about that kiss by now. Maddie knew, Jeanette was sure of it. She’d caught the glint of amusement in Maddie’s eyes when she’d walked into the spa. She’d ducked into a stall in the ladies’ room just to keep Maddie from cross-examining her about that kiss.

  Avoiding Maddie, however, turned out to be the easy part. She’d forgotten how quickly the Serenity grapevine worked with the general population.

  “What’s going on with you and the new town manager?” Drew Ann Smith inquired just as Jeanette began her facial. “Everybody’s talking about it.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Jeanette said evasively.

  Her response made Drew Ann laugh. “You kissed the man in the stands at the football game. Everyone was amazed the girders holding up the bleachers didn’t melt.”

  “Just trying to prove a point,” Jeanette said blithely.

  “And did you?” Drew Ann asked. “Prove the point?”

  Jeanette thought about it. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I did.” Unfortunately, she’d also stirred up a hornet’s nest with the discovery that kissing Tom and being kissed by him were addictive.

  “Heard you two were going at it again in front of Sullivan’s today,” Drew Ann said, her voice muffled by the towel that Jeanette had deliberately draped over her mouth in a futile attempt to silence her.

  “Why is everyone so interested in what’s going on between Tom and me?” she asked plaintively.

  Drew Ann chuckled. “This is Serenity. Most of our lives are fairly routine and boring. Keeping up a steady play-by-play on the hot romances in town is what we do.”

  “Tom and I are not having a hot romance.”

  Drew Ann yanked away the towel and stared at her. “Are you crazy? If a man who looks like that and kisses like that wanted me, he wouldn’t have to ask twice.”

  “I imagine Wendell would have something to say about that.” Jeanette was referring to Drew Ann’s husband, who ran one of the town’s two insurance agencies.


  Drew Ann chuckled. “Wendell would probably be relieved to have a break.”

  Jeanette’s gaped. “Drew Ann!”

  “Well, it’s true. Ever since I hit menopause, sex is on my mind all the time. I guess it’s because I don’t have to worry anymore about getting pregnant.”

  Jeanette wasn’t sure which made her more uncomfortable, discussing her own relationship or Drew Ann’s. Listening, though, came with the territory, so she let Drew Ann chatter on, murmuring appropriate comments on cue and trying to keep the image of Drew Ann and Wendell going at it like rabbits out of her head.

  By the time she got back to her office, though, she had to fan herself to cool down from all that talk about sex. She sipped from her glass of tea and was about to get to her next client when the phone rang. She grabbed it because she knew the receptionist wouldn’t have put it through if it wasn’t important.

  “Jeanette?” The quavery voice was her mother’s.

  “Mom? Is everything okay?” Jeanette asked, a knot of dread forming in her stomach. Of course everything wasn’t okay. Her mother never called her. Only an emergency would have her doing so now.

  “It’s your father,” she said. “He’s in the hospital. I just thought I should let you know.”

  Jeanette sat down hard. “What happened?”

  “He had an accident on the tractor. He ran it into a ditch and it fell over on top of him. That was about a week ago and—”

  “A week ago? And you’re just now calling to tell me?”

  “We didn’t want to worry you,” her mother said. “Now, though, he’s got pneumonia and one of those staph infections that people get in the hospital. The doctor said it could be serious and that maybe I should call you.”

  “Which hospital, Mom?”

  She named a Charleston hospital that Jeanette was familiar with. He wouldn’t have been transferred from the small regional hospital if it wasn’t very serious.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can get away.”

  “You don’t need to rush,” her mother protested.

  “If Dad’s sick, I need to see him,” Jeanette said, trying hard not to scream at her in frustration. A week? He’d been in a tractor accident a week ago and she was just now finding out about it. What did that say about their family? “I’ll be there in an hour. Two, at the most.”