“Now, there’s a noble sacrifice,” she said. “I have to be nice to your mother and you have to sing in public. Where’s the fairness in that?”
“I’ll throw in a lot of ho-ho-ho’s when we kick off the Christmas festival,” he added. “I will be the epitome of good cheer.”
The thought of seeing him trying to stuff his bah-humbug attitude was too tempting to resist. At least that was her excuse for relenting.
“Okay,” she said at last.
His expression brightened. “Can I move in?”
“I don’t remember sex or my guest room being included in the negotiations,” she told him.
“Are you sure? I thought they were implied.”
She gave him a wry look. “You’re a seasoned negotiator. I doubt you leave anything open to interpretation. No sex, no room.”
“You sure you don’t want to amend our verbal contract?”
“One hundred percent sure,” she assured him. “But check back with me from time to time.”
As she took in that appealing grin on his face and the heat in his eyes, something told her it was going to be way too easy for him to change her mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The Christmas festival committee gathered in the town hall conference room for its last meeting on the Monday before the event was to kick off on the second Saturday in December. Howard was in his element, as anxious as a child for the time when the tree lights would be turned on, the town square filled with vendors and all of downtown Serenity would be subjected to nonstop holiday music. He was clearly driving Tom nuts with his nitpicking attention to detail.
Listening to him go on and on, Mary Vaughn wondered why she’d ever found her father-in-law so intimidating. He was just an overgrown kid.
“Has anybody checked to see exactly what time it gets dark now?” Howard asked, directing yet another question toward Tom. “This thing needs to be scheduled right down to the second. We want to be sure to throw the switch on the tree and all the other lights right then and not a minute too soon. Maximum effect, that’s the ticket. We want to wow the crowd.”
Before Tom could reply, Howard turned to Mary Vaughn. “Is Rory Sue coming home this weekend? She used to love the lighting of the tree.”
“She says she has to study for her last two finals,” Mary Vaughn told him. “They’re next week. She’ll be home right after that.”
Howard didn’t even try to hide his disappointment. “I suppose there’s no way around that,” he grumbled. “It’s a shame, though. Having her here would have gotten the season off to a good start.”
Mary Vaughn was beginning to have her doubts about whether that was possible. Rory Sue had refused to give up on the ski trip. Every conversation had turned into a battle. None of the plans Mary Vaughn and Sonny had been making seemed to please her. Mary Vaughn was beginning to fear her daughter would stubbornly refuse to have a good time just out of spite.
“That is so lame” was her most frequent comment. Mary Vaughn had heard it so often, she’d had to bite her tongue to keep from ordering Rory Sue to adjust her attitude or else. Or else what? That was what had kept her silent. She could hardly ground her. And if she told her not to bother coming home if she couldn’t be pleasant, Rory Sue would probably whoop with joy and head straight to Colorado with her friend.
As the meeting dragged on, Mary Vaughn sank even deeper into her funk. She’d really wanted this holiday season to be special for her daughter, for her whole family, for that matter. As the weeks had passed and she and Sonny had made their plans for an old-fashioned Christmas filled with nostalgia and tradition, she’d found herself looking forward to recapturing what had once been such a special time for all of them. For the first time in years, they would have a real family celebration. She hadn’t realized until recently how much she’d missed that. Nor had she realized how much she’d missed making plans with Sonny, having someone who actually listened to her ideas and wanted to please her.
She had taken so much for granted during her marriage. After it had ended, she’d told herself that none of it mattered, that she was capable of doing just fine for herself and Rory Sue on her own. And she was. Financially she’d done better than fine. But it had been so damn lonely.
When at last the meeting ended, Jeanette turned to face her. “What’s going on?” she asked. “You look miserable.”
Mary Vaughn was so used to covering up her feelings, she almost denied it, then sighed instead. “I am.”
“Come on,” Jeanette said. “Let’s go to the spa and get some tea and you can tell me what’s going on.”
“Why?” she asked, bemused by the offer.
“Because you look as if you could use a friend,” Jeanette said simply.
Totally unexpected tears welled up in Mary Vaughn’s eyes. A friend? That was exactly what she needed. After too many years of pouring her energy into finding a man, she realized once again how desperate she was for a friend. She longed for someone who could give her honest advice, share confidences with her and make her laugh the way the Sweet Magnolias all did for each other.
“You don’t need to pretend to be my friend,” she told Jeanette out of habit. She’d spent a lifetime trying not to let anyone see her neediness.
“I’m not pretending,” Jeanette said impatiently. “I thought we’d settled that ages ago. Just because we haven’t managed to schedule time for the movies or lunch doesn’t mean we’re not friends. Now let’s get out of here before someone else, namely your ex-father-in-law, sees you crying and starts asking questions you don’t want to answer.”
“I’m not crying,” Mary Vaughn said with a sniff, then disproved the claim by wiping tears from her cheeks.
Jeanette set a brisk pace for the walk from Town Hall to the spa, then slipped around the side of the building and pointed to a table. “Sit. It’s a little chilly to be sitting outside, but we won’t be interrupted out here. I’ll get our drinks and be right back.”
Mary Vaughn sat down at the wrought-iron table and waited. Jeanette returned with two glasses of sweet tea and two muffins filled with plump blueberries.
“I can’t eat that,” Mary Vaughn protested automatically.
Jeanette set the muffin in front of her anyway. “Comfort food,” she said succinctly. “Now tell me what’s going on. Does this have something to do with Rory Sue?”
It did...and it didn’t. Mary Vaughn tried to figure out exactly how to explain it. She broke off a piece of muffin and thought as she chewed it, practically sighing at the moistness and the burst of blueberry flavor.
“It started with Rory Sue,” she said eventually. “She wanted to go away for the holidays.”
“Skiing,” Jeanette recalled.
“Exactly,” she said, then distractedly put more of the muffin into her mouth. “And since I didn’t want her to go, I got together with Sonny and we started making all these plans, you know, to make this the best Christmas ever.”
Jeanette nodded. “Okay. I’m with you so far. Hasn’t that turned out the way you wanted it to? Isn’t Sonny cooperating? You told me he had been.”
“Sonny’s been great,” she said, then added with emphasis, “Really, really great.”
Jeanette’s eyes widened. “You’re sleeping with him?”
“No,” she admitted, though she could feel heat climbing into her cheeks. She lowered her voice, even though there was no one else on the patio. “But I want to. All of a sudden I want my ex-husband. How bizarre is that?”
“Come on, Mary Vaughn, there’s nothing bizarre about it. Did you see me act shocked when you told me the other day that you wanted him back? He’s attractive, successful, funny,” Jeanette said, not sounding nearly as horrified as Mary Vaughn had expected her to be. “Finding yourself attracted to him shouldn’t be a huge shock.”
“
But I wasn’t this attracted to him when we were married,” Mary Vaughn confessed before swallowing another bite of the blueberry muffin. “I didn’t appreciate him. He was just Sonny, the guy who’d loved me forever, my safe haven.”
“And now?”
“He’s sexy. He makes me laugh. And he gets me, you know? He knows my whole history. I used to think that was a drawback, but now I really value not having to explain myself or hide what I’m feeling. I can be completely open with him because I know he’ll never judge me.” She buried her face in her hands. “I told you all this before, didn’t I? You must be sick of listening to me. It’s just that there’s no one else I can talk to about it, try to work it out, you know? Sometimes you have to say things aloud, test them out. Walking around the house talking to myself isn’t getting the job done. It’s just not the same.”
“I know,” Jeanette said soothingly. “Sounds to me as if you’ve grown up and fallen in love.”
Mary Vaughn sighed heavily. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Afraid? Why?”
“Because Sonny’s moved on. I told you I saw him with a woman, didn’t I? I still don’t know exactly what’s going on with the two of them. I’ve tried to find out, but no one I’ve asked seems to know anything about it. All I know for sure is that he doesn’t want me anymore. I killed whatever it was he once felt for me.”
“How can you be sure of that if you haven’t told him how you feel?” Jeanette asked reasonably.
“I just know, okay?” Mary Vaughn said. “He’s not picking up on any of my signals.”
“What are they? Smoke signals?” Jeanette joked. “Come on. He’s a guy. You have to be direct.”
Mary Vaughn shook her head. “Look, I floated the idea past him, asked him if he’d ever thought the divorce was a mistake and he said no. I can’t push this. I won’t let him laugh in my face.”
“Maybe he won’t laugh now that you’ve spent all this time together,” Jeanette countered. “Relationships evolve. People change. They start looking at things differently over time. Whatever was true once might not be any longer. You won’t know unless you have a serious conversation with him about this.”
Mary Vaughn wished she could believe that. She reached for more of the muffin, then realized that only crumbs were left on the plate. “I’m telling you he’s moved on,” she said despondently. “He’s the one who wanted the divorce. I know everyone in town thought I dumped him, but it wasn’t that way. He left me.”
“Has he remarried?”
“Of course not,” she said indignantly. “I would never go after a married man.” She frowned at Jeanette’s doubtful expression. “Ronnie Sullivan was not married to Dana Sue when I went after him. Why does everyone keep forgetting that? They were divorced.”
“Okay, but that’s beside the point, anyway,” Jeanette said. “Let’s stick to you and Sonny. So, you think he’s seeing someone seriously...”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure about the woman from work. Maybe.”
“Yet he’s going to spend all this time with you during the holidays,” Jeanette said. “So what if they’ve been on a few dates? I thought you were determined to fight for him. He can’t be that serious about her if he’s spending the holidays with you. She wouldn’t stand for it. That tells me he hasn’t moved on, at least not beyond the point of no return. If you really want him back, if you really think the divorce was a mistake, then you’re going to have to take a risk and put your feelings on the line. Not long ago, you were ready to do that.”
For a woman who could be totally direct in business, Mary Vaughn had little experience with taking that kind of risk in her personal life. Well, except for Ronnie, and look how that had turned out. The whole town had laughed at her behind her back.
“Have you ever done that?” she asked Jeanette.
Jeanette grinned, her expression sheepish. “Fairly recently, as a matter of fact.”
“How did it go?”
“Not so well, to be perfectly honest.”
Mary Vaughn regarded her with dismay. “Not exactly the encouragement I was hoping for.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t a big thrill for me, either, but it did open the lines of communication. And it reminded me of something my mother used to tell me all the time—that anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
The familiar words struck a chord with Mary Vaughn. How many times had she said those exact words to herself years ago when she was struggling to make a life for herself after the hell of her childhood? She’d continued to scramble and fight for the things she wanted over the years, but somehow, when the goal mattered the most, she’d lost sight of that message. She’d talked herself out of fighting for what she wanted because she was afraid of losing.
She finished the last of her tea, then stood up and gave Jeanette a fierce hug. “Thank you so much.”
“All I did was listen.”
“No, you were a friend when I really needed one,” Mary Vaughn said. “I can’t begin to tell you what that means to me. Look, we’re having an open house at my place after the tree-lighting ceremony. I hope you’ll come. Bring Tom.”
“I’d like that,” Jeanette told her. “I’ll discuss it with him and get back to you.”
“No need. Just show up if you can.”
“Will Sonny be there?”
“That’s the plan,” Mary Vaughn said. And she knew she could count on it, because he was the most reliable man she’d ever known.
Of course, if she told him all the things she’d been feeling lately, it was entirely possible he’d take off and spend the holidays as far away from Serenity—and her—as he could get.
* * *
The thick invitation arrived with the afternoon mail. Tom stared at the formal calligraphy and knew without even glancing at the return address that it was from his parents. They always launched the holiday season on the second Saturday in December with a lavish party that he was expected to attend. Since that was the opening night of the Christmas festival, he was going to have to decline this year and the resulting scene was likely to be unpleasant. He might as well get it over with now.
He picked up the phone and dialed his mother’s private line. During this busy social season, she had a secretary answering their home phone and keeping track of her schedule.
“Hello, Mother,” he said when she picked up at once.
“Darling, how are you?” she said, sounding pleased. “I was expecting to hear from you today. Did you get your invitation?”
“It just came.”
“And you’ll be here, of course. Will you be bringing someone?” she asked. “Or shall I arrange for a dinner partner for you?” There was an unmistakably hopeful note in her voice with that last query.
“I’m really sorry, Mother, but I can’t make it this year.”
Stunned silence met his announcement. Then she said, “What on earth do you mean you can’t make it? We hold this party on the same Saturday every year. It’s not as if I pulled the date out of a hat. Of course you’ll be here. Whatever it is you’re planning on doing instead can’t possibly be as important as this. Just cancel it.”
“I can’t cancel, Mother. This is a business obligation. The town’s Christmas festival begins that night. I have to be here.”
“To do what? Make sure the tree lights come on?” she scoffed.
“Actually, yes, and to see that the vendors are happy and that everything runs smoothly.”
“That’s absurd. They don’t need someone like you to deal with that. Delegate it. Let that little friend of yours handle it.”
“If you’re referring to Jeanette, she has her own responsibilities for that night. She can’t take on mine.”
“Thomas McDonald, I can’t believe you would place more importance on some ridiculous cer
emony in that nothing little town than you do on your own mother.”
He’d been expecting the guilt card, but he still had to take a deep breath before responding. He might not care about these kind of social obligations, but his mother did. “It’s not a competition. This is my job,” he stressed. “If I could be there, you know I would be, because I know it matters to you.”
“Just wait until I tell your father,” she complained. “He’s going to have a thing or two to say about this.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Tom murmured. His father had acted as her unofficial enforcer as far back as Tom could remember. He’d never quite figured out the dynamics of their marriage or why his otherwise strong father so readily did his mother’s bidding.
“What did you say?” his mother demanded irritably.
“Nothing, Mother. Look, I’m sorry about the conflict, but there’s nothing I can do about it. We’ll get together another time.”
“The following weekend,” she said at once, seizing on the opening. “I’m having another dinner party that Friday. Something smaller and more intimate for a few of your father’s business associates. I intended to discuss that with you when I saw you, but since you’re obviously so busy these days, I’d better get it onto your calendar now.”
Tom was no more inclined to accept that invitation than he was this one, but he knew better than to offer another excuse. If he expected his mother to respect the things—and people—that mattered to him, then he had to show her the same courtesy, at least often enough to keep peace.
“We’ll be there,” he told her.
“We?” she asked suspiciously.
“Jeanette and I.”
“Tom, that’s entirely inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” he repeated, his tone icy. The last of his good humor vanished. “If Jeanette’s not welcome in your home, then perhaps I should rethink whether I belong there, either.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, bring her,” she said impatiently. “But don’t blame me if she doesn’t fit in.”
Welcome to Serenity Page 28
