Hidden

by Suzanne Halliday

  Amy took the lead and spoke first. “Mrs. Sanderson, hello. It's nice to see you.”

  Quinn’s eyes had been squarely glued to his when Amy started speaking. Relief washed over him when his mother swung her gaze to the brave-as-fuck girl clutching his hand.

  With a polite nod, his mother offered up a tremulous smile that touched David’s heart with its remarkable vulnerability.

  “Miss Peters, I’m pleased you accepted my invitation.”

  “Oh,” Amy replied with a cheeky laugh. “Was there an invitation? Your Mrs. Garrison simply told me to put the date in my calendar.”

  If there was any initial tension, it instantly disappeared when his mother laughed. Out loud.

  “The invitation was implied, I believe,” she offered in defense.

  “Mother,” he intoned with dry mockery.

  She acknowledged his curt greeting with her usual wit and charm. “You just had to go out and find the one female under fifty who isn’t afraid of me—didn’t you?” she teased.

  “It’s what you get for pretending to be an old biddy. So, what’s the seating arrangement? Do I referee between you two or are we picking edges?”

  That was when he noticed the place settings and searched his mother’s face for an explanation.

  Pointing to her left, she motioned at two seats and said, “That’ll be fine.”

  As he and Amy sat, he counted the empty settings. Three. One next to Quinn and two others across from him and Amy. Things were getting interesting.

  “I wanted a chance to speak with you two. Alone. Before the others get here.”

  He saw his opening and took it. “Others, Mother?”

  “Yes. Your sister and her…beau will be joining us shortly.”

  “Aw, Mom,” he quipped. “That’s so damn cute. Beau?” He laughed along with Amy’s perfect giggle. “Missy will love that.”

  “Yes, well your sister’s tedious insistence that she’s perfectly happy working in a store and playing house with some tweedy professor type is too well entrenched to fight.” Quinn shrugged.

  “I think they’re cute together.”

  He and his mother turned and looked at Amy at the same time. Ordinarily, the uptight reaction Quinn Sanderson perfected and fucking patented would have included a genteel dose of shade and a precision guided missile of putdowns. But that wasn’t what he was witnessing. For a long moment, his mother stared at Amy—who, he noted with immense pride, faced her head on—and then asked an innocent question.

  “I sometimes forget you two are friends. Melissa is an amazing woman, isn’t she?”

  Amy had the perfect reply. “My mom would say something about the apple and the tree but as the words formed on my tongue they sounded disgustingly suck-up-ish so I’m going to amend and say she’s one of the most positive, upbeat, happy people I’ve ever known.”

  All of a sudden his mom pinned him to the spot with a fierce look. “The Professor made an end run around me and talked to your father.”

  He jolted. Had an earthquake just rolled through? Cause that’s how he felt. “What do you mean? Why?”

  Quinn stiffened for a moment and then appeared to make a conscious effort to back down.

  “Apparently, he wants to marry Melissa.”

  Amy was leaning on her elbows gaping at his mom. He became a frozen mannequin as he struggled to wrap his brain around what his mother was saying.

  “How do you know this?” he asked.

  She sighed, wet her lips, touched an earring and downright fidgeted in her seat. His mother never fidgeted.

  “Oh, well, he uh… he told me.”

  David shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Incredulous, he asked, “Dad? Dad told you?”

  “Yes. Your father.”

  “You spoke to Dad?”

  Amy turned wide, astonished eyes on him and mouthed ‘What the fuck?’

  That was exactly how he felt. Quinn and his dad did not speak. Not to each other, anyway. Sometimes through lawyers or occasionally him and his sister—but never directly.

  Holy shitballs. Talk about a paradigm shift.

  “Yes, David,” Quinn bit out—sounding exasperated by his reaction. “I spoke to your father. Is that okay with you? Did I need permission or something?”

  “No, no,” he quickly defended. “It’s all good Mom. I just didn’t realize you two were on speaking terms.”

  “I’d say it was about time.”

  What could he possibly say in response?

  Amy sat back slowly in her seat, crossed her legs and became quiet. Recognizing something important was in the wind, he followed along and waited to see what Quinn had up her sleeve. It had to be more than Missy and Tom that got Garrison lurking in a restaurant parking lot.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “Your father and I agreed that the Professor will need the consent of both heads of the family to proceed.”

  David knew how much that small concession cost his mother when her mouth tensed upon acknowledging his father’s place in the family. Well, well, well.

  Then what she was saying sank in. “Oh Jesus,” he groaned. “Are you saying that Tom has to ask my permission? Is that what tonight is about?”

  Her reply was swift and sure. “No. Tonight is not about that, but I did want to give you a heads up. I have no idea when the Professor will choose his moment.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “I owe you two an apology and an explanation.”

  Amy’s hand went to his knee and squeezed. He was so shocked by his mother’s directness that he needed the grounding.

  “There aren’t to be any more secrets, David. Do you understand?”

  “Mom,” he began. “What did you expect?”

  A sudden sheen of what he shockingly realized were tears sparkled in his mother’s eyes. “I expected to share my children’s joys. To be part of their lives. But my foolish pride made all of that impossible, didn’t it?”

  Amy scooted her chair closer to Quinn’s and reached for one of her hands. It was such a loving gesture that his throat tightened, and he lost the ability to speak.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mrs. Sanderson. Your kids love you, and I’m not saying that because I have to.”

  She swung her gaze briefly to his and winked before turning all her attention on a woman who had essentially made her life a living hell.

  “I’ve known about you two since the tech conference in Seattle.”

  “But,” Amy stammered. “We weren’t together then.”

  David squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He remembered the conference. Beck had a huge presence, and the entire senior management and department head teams were along. He’d been a complete asshole the whole time despite everything coming up roses for the company. Any why? Because that was when he couldn’t ignore the quirky girl in marketing any longer. The problem? She was hanging out with some random guy from legal. At least that’s what he thought at the time.

  “Mother’s intuition.”

  “Why am I just hearing this now?” he asked.

  “Because I waited to see what you two did.”

  A slow burning residual of anger about the way she’d always colored his father’s unfortunate affair sparked to life. “You wanted to see if I was my father.”

  “I could pretend otherwise but what would be the point? Betrayal like that leaves scars David.”

  He didn’t back down. “My understanding is that what happened was a two-way street. Betrayal is the wrong word .”

  “Let me guess,” Quinn snapped. “Your so-called aunt has been running her mouth again.”

  He gave a lazy shrug. “There are things she thought I should know.”

  The whole time this odd conversation unfolded, Amy continued to hold his mother’s clinging hand.

  “Your father behaved like a pig. And no matter what else, I didn’t deserve the public humiliation. I will not apologize for being human, David. For having emotions.”

  He let her have that one. She was r
ight. Everyone was entitled to his or her feelings.

  Next, she spoke directly to Amy. He was beyond astonished by this point.

  “You understand, don’t you my dear? Considering history, I waited to see if perhaps my son was behaving badly with an employee. Maybe this thing between you two was a fling. And to be honest—I didn’t know you either. Were you in the market for a rich husband?”

  Amy snickered. “A guy whose only qualification is his wallet wouldn’t last a single Sunday dinner at my house. Believe me,” she chuckled. “My folks wouldn’t be having any of that nonsense.”

  “Which is more or less what I discovered as your relationship grew. I have to admire your ingenuity. That’s what showed me how serious you were. The lengths you were willing to go to to be together and not upset an old lady.”

  David went out on a limb because it seemed like the thing to do. “I care for both of you. You’re my mom, and despite being a headache and a handful, I love you.”

  He smiled at Amy. “And I love this wonderful woman because, despite all your bullshit and the pressure it put on us, she stuck it out.”

  “I love David,” Amy quietly assured his mom. “But he knows if this is too much for you, I’ll…”

  “Don’t say it,” Quinn interrupted. “Please don’t go there. It’s not too much, and you have my full support. All I want is to be part of your world. I don’t want our lives to be separate any longer.”

  “So we have your blessing?” he asked with hopefulness washing through his soul.

  “Yes, of course. I only want your happiness, David.”

  “Thank you,” Amy said. Then she looked at him and sighed. “David, jeez. Get over here and give your mother a hug.”

  They were locked in a warm hug when Missy’s voice rang out.

  “Oh my god. Is she dying? Is that what this dinner is all about?”

  * * *

  Amy nearly jumped out of her skin when Missy’s plaintive wail cut through the air.

  David exited the hug, shot up and turned as Missy rushed forward. “Mom! Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine, sweetie. Relax. We were just hugging it out. That’s how you say it, right?”

  “Good lord. You scared the shit out of me.”

  Quinn’s eyes swept the doorway behind Missy. “Where’s your Professor? He’s coming along I hope.”

  Missy bent and kissed her mother’s cheek. “He’s parking the car. Dropped me off at the door so I didn’t have to tromp through the parking lot in these shoes.”

  As women do when footwear is mentioned, all of their eyes swung downward to get a look at what Missy wore.

  “Jimmy Choos,” she announced with some leg moves and foot poses worthy of a supermodel. “Fifty bucks at the Thrift Store!”

  Quinn Sanderson groaned, but Amy heard the good-natured humor. This would probably be a mother-daughter thing from here on out. Missy and her second hand, pay-it-forward way, and her eye-rolling heiress mother. Nothing wrong with that.

  Davinia stuck her head in the alcove and asked if they needed anything. Quinn motioned the woman close so with David’s mother distracted, she grabbed Missy’s arm and yanked her into a corner.

  David was practically on top of them.

  “Is she dying?” he barked, “That’s what you ask? What the hell is the matter with you?”

  Missy punched her brother squarely on the arm—hard.

  “Shut up. You’d have thought the same thing. Conservative dispensing of hugs is our mom’s M.O. Finding you guys huddled together looked more like a tragedy in the making than whatever the hell this is.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be here?” Amy asked. “Would have saved me a couple of trips to the bathroom if I’d known.”

  Missy folded her arms and gave her and David a scathing look that reminded Amy of Mrs. Kent—her fifth-grade teacher. The woman had a unique way of registering her displeasure.

  “I didn’t know. Gurl,” she comically drawled, “we just got played. No heads up so we could get a plan together. Nope,” she said with a head swing. “She had Garrison call Tom this afternoon. At work! He nearly swallowed his tongue.”

  “Speaking of Tom, did you know… hey!” she wailed when David elbowed her. The look her no longer hidden man was giving her zipped Amy’s motor mouth.

  “Did I know what?” Missy asked.

  “That Tom’s here,” David swiftly interjected. “Look,” he said with a head tilt, “here he comes now.”

  As Missy’s beau scurried toward them, she feigned adjusting David’s tie so she could move in close and whisper. “Thanks for the save.”

  He snickered, discreetly palmed her ass then added a little swat. “You’re lobbying pretty damn effectively for a spanking, young lady.”

  She giggled, snorted, and bit her lip in quick succession.

  When Tom joined them, the four of them stood in an awkward cluster and stared at each other. The silence was uncomfortable until Tom pointed out the obvious.

  “Well, this is weird, huh?”

  Missy slid her arm through his and clung. She made a face at Amy. “Is this your official coming out? Can we stop acting like we don’t know what’s going on?”

  “Sis, let’s take a moment to review. We’re not pretending, and in the twenty minutes that we’ve been here, Mom has referred to Tom as ‘your Professor’ at least a dozen times. Oh, and get this,” he added with real astonishment. “She’s been talking to Dad.”

  “Pfft,” Missy grunted with disbelief. “Are you high?”

  Amy watched Tom shuffle back and forth on his Oxfords and stifled a snigger. He’d be well aware of course about this new and surprising development.

  “Nah, I’m serious,” David assured her.

  Missy stared a hole through her brother’s head, turned and looked at Tom, and then swiveled her gaze across the room to where her mother was chatting with Davinia.

  “She’s dying. Or sick. There’s no other reason for them to speak.”

  Amy and David glanced at each other and then at Tom who reacted in cartoon character fashion. Running a finger around the collar of his shirt like a man in need of fresh air, he cleared his throat and patted Missy’s hand on his arm.

  “I’m quite sure there’s a simple explanation,” he said.

  “Name one,” Missy snapped.

  Oh, shit. Amy searched for a way to change the conversation but David beat her to it.

  “Did either of you see Garrison skulking in the shadows outside?”

  Missy made a face suggesting her brother was nucking futz but Tom had a different reaction.

  “I saw her. She looked like she was going to try and ignore me but that’s not how this shit goes,” he said.

  Missy gasped at her boyfriend and all but swooned. If Amy had to guess she’d put money on Professor Thomas Bartholomew Wilkerson having a hidden take-no-prisoners persona. One that her BFF clearly found hot.

  “Walked right up to her, I did,” he continued. “I’m a teacher,” he mocked. “Hear dumb ass stories and questionable excuses every day, so I know when someone leads with a deflection. She mumbled about meeting a photographer, but then a swanky Jaguar sedan pulled up to the valet stand and just like that she was done with me. Don’t know many camera jockeys rocking a custom Jag.”

  David asked Missy, “A photographer? Any clue?”

  “I dunno. Christmas cards, maybe?”

  Brother and sister cracked up while she and Tom stood by and smiled.

  A flurry of activity beyond the alcove caught their attention. Before they knew what was happening a sharply dressed man, shorter than David, with the sort of beefy physique that made her think of a bulldog, swept into their space like he owned the damn room.

  He clapped his hands once and spread his arms wide, beamed at Quinn and boomed in a deep masculine voice tinged with the hint of a Greek accent, “Koritsi Mou!”

  The moment was seared into her memory because of how crazy it was. She and David, along wi
th Missy and Tom, stood mutely flabbergasted and watched like a squad of Meerkats.

  Quinn Sanderson blushed like a little girl while Davinia Paolini stood by wearing the satisfied smirk of a veteran matchmaker. Their astonished reaction went to an eleven when the extroverted man rushed to Quinn’s side and dropped a loud, smacking kiss right on her lips.

  Then, because shit wasn’t weird enough, the guy whipped around and faced them. “The children are here! How splendid,” he boomed in a larger than life way. He put his hand on Quinn’s shoulder and smiled down at her.

  Amy was pretty sure they’d wandered into the twilight zone when the Dragon Lady of Beck Industries answered with a brilliant smile and half a giggle.

  What. The. Hell.

  “Did you tell them?” he asked.

  That was when David found his voice. “Judge Karalis.” And then nothing else. She could feel him struggling to find his bearings.

  “Mom?” Missy murmured.

  Garrison slithered into their midst but stayed close to the archway of the dining room. She spoke directly to Quinn after a brief nod to Davinia.

  “Everything’s set. Pictures first—before we lose the perfect setting. Judge?” she instructed in a familiar no-nonsense way. “I’m counting on you to keep things dignified. We don’t want tacky.”

  This Judge person let out a booming chuckle. “Anything for my koritsi mou.”

  David blinked and shook his head. Missy’s expression was utterly astonished. Tom, good ol’ Professor Tom, murmured softly, “Um, guys? I think he’s calling your mother his little girl.”

  It hit her like a flash. A lightning bolt of understanding lit her up inside. Why, Quinn Sanderson was no different from her! Or Missy.

  The embarrassed little giggle. The curious blushes. The jaw-dropping one eighty on everything from James Sanderson to Missy’s professor to her and David’s secret relationship.

  Oh my god! The dragon lady was in love—and if it wasn’t quite at the ‘in love’ portion of the proceedings, it was plain to see that the unusual couple were well on their way.