by Susan Crosby
“Surprised and happy, I hope,” Melissa answered, loading her arms with the deep red chargers and honey-gold plates her sister indicated, which perfectly matched the theme for the evening.
“How could they be anything else? They finally have the chance to enjoy the perfect honeymoon they missed out on the first time.” Abby smiled, looking more than a little starry-eyed. Despite being married for several years, her sister was a true romantic.
“This has to be better than the original,” she said. “The bar was set pretty low thirty years ago, judging by all the stories they’ve told us over the years. Missed trains, lousy hotels, disappearing luggage.”
“Don’t forget the pickpocket that stole their cash and passports.”
Melissa had to smile. Though their parents’ stories always made their honeymoon thirty years ago sound dismal, Frank and Diane always laughed when they shared them, as if they had viewed the whole thing as a huge adventure.
She wanted that. She wanted to share that kind of joy and laughter and tears with Josh. The adventure that was life.
Her smile faded, replaced by that ache of sadness that always seemed so close these days. Oh, Josh. She reached into the silverware drawer, avoiding her sister’s gaze.
“Okay. What’s wrong?” Abby asked anyway.
She forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“Late night with Josh?” her sister teased.
Before she could stop them, tears welled up and spilled over. She blinked them back but not before her sharp-eyed sister caught them.
“What did I say?” Abby asked with a stunned look.
“Nothing. I just…I didn’t have a late night with Josh. Not last night, not last week, not for the last two weeks. He’s avoiding my calls and canceled our last two dates. Even when we’re together, it’s like he’s not there. I know he’s busy at work but…I think he’s planning to break up with me.”
Abby’s jaw sagged and Melissa saw shock and something else, something furtive, shift across Abby’s expression.
“That can’t be true. It just…can’t be.”
She wanted to believe that, too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget it. You’ve worked so hard to make this night perfect and I don’t want to ruin it.”
Abby shook her head. “You need to put that wacky idea out of your head right now. Josh is crazy about you. It’s clear to anybody who has ever seen the two of you together for five seconds. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of breaking things off.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” she lied. Too much evidence pointed otherwise. Worst of all was the casual kiss good-night the past few times she’d seen him, instead of one of their deep, emotional, soul-sharing kisses that made her toes curl.
“I’m serious, Missy. Trust me on this. I’m absolutely positive he’s not planning to break up with you. Not Josh. He loves you. In fact…”
She stopped, biting her lip, and furiously turned back to the chicken.
“In fact what?”
Abby’s features were evasive. “In fact, would he be out right now with Greg buying the wine and champagne for tonight if he didn’t want to have anything to do with the Morgan family?”
Out of the corner of her gaze, Melissa saw that amazingly decorated dining room again, the magical setting her sister had worked so hard to create for their parents who loved each other dearly. She refused to ruin this night for Abby and the rest of her family. For now, she would focus on the celebration and forget the tiny cracks in her heart.
She pasted on a smile and grabbed the napkins, with their rings formed out of entwined grapevine hearts. “You’re right. I’m being silly. I’m sure everything will be just fine. Anyway, tonight is for Mom and Dad. That’s the important thing.”
Abby gave her a searching look and Melissa couldn’t help thinking that even with the worry lines on her forehead, Abby seemed to glow tonight.
“It is about them, isn’t it?” Abby murmured. Though Melissa’s arms were full, her sister reached around the plates and cutlery to give her a hug. “Trust me, baby sister. Everything will be just fine.”
Melissa dearly wanted to believe her and as she returned to the dining room, she did her very best to ignore the ache of fear that something infinitely dear was slipping away.
* * *
“Hello? Are you still in there?”
His friend Greg’s words jerked Josh out of his daze and he glanced up. “Yeah. Sorry. Did you say something?”
“Only about three times. I’ve been asking your opinion about the champagne and all I’m getting in return is a blank stare. You’re a million miles away, man, which is not really helping out much here.”
This just might be the most important day of his life. Who could blame a guy if he couldn’t seem to string two thoughts together?
“Sorry. I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.”
“And champagne is obviously not one of those things.”
He made a face. “It rarely is. I’m afraid I’m more of a Sam Adams kind of guy.”
“I hear you. Why do you think I asked you to come along and help me pick out the wine and champagne for tonight?”
He had wondered that himself. “Because my car has a bigger trunk?”
Greg laughed, which eased Josh’s nerves a little. He had to admit, he had liked the guy since he met him a year ago when he first started dating Melissa. Josh was married to Melissa’s sister, Abby, and if things worked out the way he hoped, they would be brothers-in-law in the not-so-distant future.
“It’s only the six of us for dinner,” Greg reminded him. “I’m not exactly buying cases here. So what do you think?”
He turned back to the racks of bottles. “No idea. Which one is more expensive?”
Greg picked one up with a fancy label that certainly looked pricey.
“Excellent choice.” The snooty clerk who had mostly been ignoring them since they walked in finally deigned to approach them.
“You think so?” Greg asked. “We’re celebrating a big occasion.”
“You won’t be disappointed, I assure you. What else can I help you find?”
Sometime later—and with considerably lightened wallets—the two of them carried two magnums of champagne and two bottles of wine out to Josh’s car.
“I, uh, need to make one last quick stop,” he said after pulling into traffic. “Do you mind waiting?”
“No problem. The party doesn’t start for another two hours. We’ve got plenty of time.”
When Josh pulled up in front of an assuming storefront a few moments later, Greg looked at the sign above the door then back at him with eyebrows raised. “Wow. Seriously? Tonight? I thought Abby was jumping the gun when she said she suspected you were close to proposing. She’s always right, that beautiful wife of mine. Don’t tell her I said that.”
Josh shifted, uncomfortably aware his fingers were shaking a little as he undid his seatbelt. “I bought the ring two weeks ago. When the jeweler told me it would be ready today, I figured that was a sign.”
“You’re a brave man to pick a ring out without her.”
Panic clutched at his gut again, but he took a deep breath and pushed it away. He wanted to make his proposal perfect. Part of that, to his mind, was the element of surprise.
“I found a bridal magazine at Melissa’s apartment kind of hidden under a stack of books and she had the page folded down on this ring. I snapped a quick picture with my phone and took that in to the jeweler.”
“Nice.” Greg’s admiring look settled his stomach a little.
“I figure, if she doesn’t like it, we can always reset the stone, right?”
“So when are you going to pop the question?”
/> “I haven’t figured that out yet. I thought maybe when I take her home after the party tonight, we might drive up to that overlook above town.”
“That could work.”
“What about you? How did you propose to Abby?”
“Nothing very original, I’m afraid. I took her to dinner at La Maison Marie. She loves that place. Personally, I think you’re only paying for overpriced sauce, but what can you do? Anyway, after dinner, she kept acting like she was expecting something. I did take her along to shop for rings a few weeks earlier but hadn’t said anything to her since. She seemed kind of disappointed when the dessert came and no big proposal. So we were walking around on the grounds after dinner and we walked past this waterfall and pond she liked. I pretended I tripped over something and did a stupid little magician sleight of hand and pulled out the ring box.”
“Did you do the whole drop-to-your-knee thing?”
“Yeah. It seemed important to Abby. Women remember that kind of thing.”
“I hope I don’t forget that part.”
“Don’t sweat it. When the moment comes, whatever you do will be right for the two of you, I promise.”
“I hope so.”
The depth of his love for Melissa still took him by surprise. He loved her with everything inside him and wanted to give her all the hearts and flowers and romance she could ever want.
“It will be,” Greg said. “Anyway, look at how lousy Frank and Diane’s marriage started out. Their honeymoon sounded like a nightmare but thirty years later they can still laugh about it.”
That was what he wanted with Melissa. Thirty years—and more—of laughter and joy and love.
He just had to get through the proposal first.
Chapter Two
by Christine Rimmer
“Frank. The light is yellow. Frank!” Diana Morgan stomped the passenger-side floor of the Buick. Hard. If only she had the brakes on her side.
Frank Morgan pulled to a smooth stop as the light went red. “There,” he said, in that calm, deep, untroubled voice she’d always loved. “We’re stopped. No need to wear a hole in the floor.”
Diana glanced over at her husband of thirty years. She loved him so much. There were a whole lot of things to worry about in life, but Frank’s love was the one thing Diana never doubted. He belonged to her, absolutely, as she belonged to him, and he’d given her two beautiful, perfect daughters. Abby and Melissa were all grown up now.
The years went by way too fast.
Diana sent her husband another glance. Thirty years together. Amazing. She still loved just looking at him. He was the handsomest man she’d ever met, even at fifty-seven. Nature had been kind to him. He had all his hair and it was only lightly speckled with gray. She smoothed her own shoulder-length bob. No gray there, either. Her hair was still the same auburn shade it had been when she married him. Only in her case, nature didn’t have a thing to do with it.
A man only grew more distinguished over the years. A woman had to work at it.
The light turned green. Frank hit the gas.
Too hard, Diana thought. But she didn’t say a word. She only straightened her teal-blue silk blouse, re-crossed her legs and tried not to make impatient, worried noises. Frank was a wonderful man. But he drove too fast.
Abby and her husband, Greg, were having them over for dinner tonight. They were on their way there now—to Abby’s house. Diana was looking forward to the evening. But she was also dreading it. Something was going on with Abby. A mother knows these things.
And something was bothering Melissa, too. Diana’s younger daughter was still single. She’d been going out with Josh Wright for a year now. It was a serious relationship.
But was there something wrong between Josh and Melissa? Diana had a sense about these things, a sort of radar for emotional disturbances, especially when it came to her daughters. Right now, tonight, Diana had a suspicion that something wasn’t right—both between Melissa and Josh and between Abby and Greg.
“Remember Venice?” Frank gave her a fond glance.
She smiled at him—and then stiffened. “Frank. Eyes on the road.”
“All right, all right.” He patiently faced front again. “Remember that wonderful old hotel on the Grand Canal?”
She made a humphing sound. “It was like the rest of our honeymoon. Nothing went right.”
“I loved every moment of it,” he said softly.
She reminded him, “You know what happened at that hotel in Venice, how they managed to lose our luggage somewhere between the front desk and our room. How hard can it be, to get the suitcases to the right room? And it smelled a bit moldy in the bathroom, didn’t you think?”
“All I remember is you, Diana. Naked in the morning light.” He said it softly. Intimately.
She shivered a little, drew in a shaky breath and confessed, “Oh, yes. That. I remember that, too.” It was one of the best things about a good marriage. The shared memories. Frank had seen her naked in Venice when they were both young. Together, they had heard Abby’s first laugh, watched Melissa as she learned to walk, staggering and falling, but then gamely picking herself right back up and trying again. Together, they had made it through all those years that drew them closer, through the rough times as well as the happy ones… .
A good marriage.
Until very recently, she’d been so sure that Abby and Greg were happy. But were they? Really? And what about Melissa and Josh?
Oh, Lord. Being a mother was the hardest job in the world. They grew up. But they stayed in your heart. And when they were suffering, you ached right along with them.
“All right,” Frank said suddenly in an exasperated tone. “You’d better just tell me, Diana. You’d better just say it, whatever it is.”
Diana sighed. Deeply. “Oh, Frank…”
“Come on,” he coaxed, pulling to another stop at yet another stoplight—at the very last possible second. She didn’t even stomp the floor that time, she was that upset. “Tell me,” he insisted.
Tears pooled in her eyes and clogged her throat. She sniffed them back. “I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to interfere. I wasn’t even going to say a word…”
He flipped open the armrest and whipped out a tissue. “Dry your eyes.”
“Oh, Frank…” She took the tissue and dabbed at her lower lid. If she wasn’t careful, her makeup would be a total mess.
“Now,” Frank said, reaching across to pat her knee. “Tell me about it. Whatever it is, you know you’ll feel better once we’ve talked it over.”
The light changed. “Go,” she said on a sob.
He drove on. “I’m waiting.”
She sniffed again. “I think something’s wrong between Abby and Greg. And not only that, there’s something going on with Melissa, too. I think Melissa’s got…a secret, you know? A secret that is worrying her terribly.”
“Why do you think something’s going on between Abby and Greg?”
“I sensed it. You know how sensitive I am— Oh, God. Do you think Abby and Greg are breaking up? Do you think he might be seeing someone else?”
“Whoa. Diana. Slow down.”
“Well, I am worried. I am so worried. And Melissa. She is suffering. I can hear it in her voice when I talk to her.”
“But you haven’t told me why you think there might be something wrong—with Melissa, or between Abby and Greg. Did Abby say something to you?”
“Of course not. She wants to protect me.”
“What about Melissa?”
“What do you mean, what about Melissa?”
“Well, did you ask her if something is bothering her?”
Another sob caught in Diana’s throat. She swallowed it. “I couldn’t. I didn’t wa
nt to butt in.”
Frank eased the car to the shoulder and stopped. “Diana,” he said. That was all. Just her name.
It was more than enough. “Don’t you look at me like that, Frank Morgan.”
“Diana, I hate to say this—”
“Then don’t. Just don’t. And why are we stopped? We’ll be late. Even with family, you know I always like to be on time.”
“Diana…”
She waved her soggy tissue at him. “Drive, Frank. Just drive.”
He leaned closer across the console. “Sweetheart…”
She sagged in her seat. “Oh, fine. What?”
“You know what you’re doing, don’t you?” He said it gently. But still. She knew exactly what he was getting at and she didn’t like it one bit.
She sighed and dropped the wadded tissue in the little wastepaper bag she always carried in the car. “Well, I know you’re bound to tell me, now don’t I?”
He took her hand, kissed the back of it.
“Don’t try to butter me up,” she muttered.
“You’re jumping to conclusions again,” he said tenderly.
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve got nothin’. Zip. Admit it. No solid reason why you think Melissa has a secret or why you think Abby and Greg are suddenly on the rocks.”
“I don’t need a solid reason. I can feel it.” She laid her hand over her heart. “Here.”
“You know it’s very possible that what’s really going on is a surprise anniversary party for us, don’t you?”
Diana smoothed her hair. “What? You mean tonight?”
“That’s right. Tonight.”
“Oh, I suppose. It could be.” She pictured their dear faces. She loved them so much. “They are the sweetest girls, aren’t they?”
“The best. I’m the luckiest dad in the world—not to mention the happiest husband.”
Diana leaned toward him and kissed him. “You are a very special man.” She sank back against her seat—and remembered how worried she was. “But Frank, if this is a party, it’s still not it.”
“It?” He looked bewildered. Men could be so thickheaded sometimes.
