Johanna leveled a piercing gaze at the younger woman. “Rachel...” The woman’s voice trailed off significantly, letting Rachel know that she wasn’t about to let her win this argument.
Rachel sighed and threw up her arms. “I don’t have time to argue.”
“That’s right, you don’t,” Johanna agreed. Out of nowhere, she produced Rachel’s shoulder bag and slipped the strap onto her shoulder. “Now go home,” she ordered. “Remember, you don’t want to upset your father, now, do you?”
“The only one who’s going to upset my dad is you if he hears you lecturing me,” Rachel pointed out.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Johanna told her. “The idea of you actually going out and having a good time is something that is bound to make him very happy.” She lowered her voice, a kindly note entering into it. “The fact that you gave up so much for him in order to keep his life running on an even keel has made him feel very guilty.”
“But he has nothing to feel guilty about,” Rachel argued. “I wanted to do that.”
Her hands on Rachel’s shoulders, Johanna guided her toward the front door.
“Be that as it may, that has no bearing on this. It still made him feel guilty and your father desperately wants to do something to negate that feeling and to begin to pay you back in some small way for everything you’ve done for him and given up for him.”
Rachel found that digging in didn’t keep Johanna from pushing her further toward the door. “Then he should listen to me and stop trying to make me turn into some kind of social butterfly.”
Johanna shook her head. “He’s your father. You should know that’s not going to happen. In his mind, he’s done enough listening to you to last a lifetime. It’s time for things to return back to normal. Now stop arguing with me and just give in. You know you’re not going to have any peace until you do.”
Glancing at her watch, Johanna frowned. “You’ve just wasted ten precious minutes arguing with me. Now go, find something pretty in your mom’s closet to wear and be Cinderella for both of us.”
Rachel looked at her. How did Johanna know she was going to wear one of her mother’s outfits? Was she that predictable? Even so, she tried to stand her ground, at least for a moment.
“Why didn’t you ever follow your own advice?” she asked.
“That’s simple,” Johanna answered, drawing her closer to the front door. “Because I’m happy here.” Lowering both of her hands so that they were now against Rachel’s back, she gave it a light push and said, “Now go.” She turned toward the young woman who was standing to the side. “Wanda, open the door, please. Rachel here is in a hurry to go home and we don’t want her just dashing right through the door to get out.”
Wanda, a short young woman with curly, dark hair, appeared slightly doubtful about the whole matter, but she hurried over to comply and open the door anyway. She had no intentions of getting embroiled in an argument.
“Now get going,” Johanna instructed, giving Rachel a piercing look. “And be sure to tell me everything on Monday.”
That stopped Rachel short. “Monday?” she repeated quizzically. “Just how long do you think this celebration is going to last?”
“I have no idea, but I’ve got my fingers crossed,” Johanna told her. “Now stop talking and start walking. Have I made myself clear?”
Rachel sighed again. She really didn’t want to stand around here any longer, arguing with the woman. The thought of actually going out on a date was creating giant ripples of nervousness in her stomach. She did her best to keep them under control.
“Okay, okay,” she cried. “Look, I’m going.”
Johanna rolled her eyes, looking heavenward. “Thank goodness!” But despite her declaration, the woman made no move to retreat, or step back inside. She looked at Rachel expectantly. “Just so you know, I’m going to keep on standing right here until I hear your car start up.”
Rachel tried to look disgruntled. “This is harassment.”
“Yes, I know, but I forgive you,” she said acting as if she was the one being harassed. “Now go!”
Rachel shook her head and laughed. Johanna was in a class all her own, she thought. And then she did as the woman said and hurried into the parking lot.
Chapter Eleven
Rachel had never given much thought to the fact that she was now the same size that her mother had been at her age, right down to their weight and curves. She was built just the same way her mother had been—except for the fact that she was two inches taller than her mother. Because of that, the clothes were shorter on her, Rachel noted as she slipped on yet another dress.
What might have appeared demure on her mother looked somewhat sexy on her, she thought as she regarded herself from several angles in the wardrobe mirror.
The dress she had just put on was a mint green halter-top outfit with sparkles that made it appear as if stardust had been dusted all over the material, which clung to her body. It also brought out the green in her eyes.
Maybe this was a little too sexy for the anniversary celebration, Rachel thought. The dress, she knew, would have easily come down to cover her mother’s knees.
She paused, studying her reflection.
“Okay, Rach, bottom line. Do you like it and does it make you feel pretty?” she asked the image in the mirror out loud.
The answer to both questions was yes—so why did she feel so nervous about wearing this dress?
“Because you’ve forgotten what it’s like to go out with a guy who makes your heart do flip-flops,” she murmured.
Rachel glanced at the pile of dresses she had tried on and then discarded. Maybe she would be better off wearing a somewhat more subdued dress. But while she was debating, she heard the doorbell ring.
Well, that certainly negated any second thoughts she was entertaining. She couldn’t very well come down in her robe as if she wasn’t ready. He’d think she was like every other woman he might have dated—and she wanted to be special.
After grabbing her small silver purse, Rachel hurried down the stairs.
She managed to reach the door just as Wyatt rang the doorbell for a second time. She pulled it open before the physical therapist had a chance to lift his finger off the button.
“Hi. You’re right on time,” she said, trying not to make it sound as if she would have actually preferred to have a few more minutes in order to make her final selection.
Oh, who was she kidding? She’d made her choice the moment she had slipped the mint vision on her body. His arrival had just spared her the anguish of further debating the decision with herself.
Wyatt had intended to say something clever in response to her greeting, but what wound up coming out of his mouth was, “And you’re absolutely stunning,” uttered with deep appreciation as his eyes swept over every inch of Rachel, his smile growing wider with every passing second.
Rachel could feel her cheeks warm. She hoped he didn’t notice the change in color. “You don’t think it’s too much?” she asked.
Wyatt’s smile had filtered into his eyes. “If anything, it’s too little,” he said. The next moment, he realized that she might think that he was being critical and he quickly interjected not an apology exactly, but a retraction. “I’m kidding,” he told her, then repeated the phrase a second time for emphasis. “I’m kidding. You look fantastic. My sister may never speak to me again.”
She definitely didn’t want to cause any problems. “You want me to go change?” she offered, already beginning to turn toward the stairs.
Wyatt was familiar with what could happen if a woman said she was going to go change her outfit. Indecision could very well make the process hours longer.
“Absolutely not,” he answered. “You really do look terrific and I don’t want you changing a thing about this outfit. I was just kidding about Myra. She’s not that insecure.”
She wasn’t as sure as he was about his sister’s confidence. Insecurity about appearance haunted every woman she knew to a greater or lesser degree. But Rachel had no idea what to put on as the runner-up to this dress, The moment she had slipped on this dress, she had known that it was the “one”—even though her doubts had wound up kicking in shortly thereafter.
After a moment, Rachel reluctantly nodded, ending the debate.
“So are we good to go?” Wyatt asked, indicating that if she raised any objections, he was willing to listen to them.
Maybe that was why she was ready to leave for the celebration, because Wyatt seemed so willing to indulge her.
“Yes,” Rachel answered with a smile, “I’m all set.”
He became aware of her bare shoulders. “Do you have a shawl or anything like that to wear?” he asked, looking around the room to see if she had laid anything out. “The temperature is supposed to drop tonight. I don’t want you to catch a cold because you’re doing me a good turn.”
Wow, talk about thinking ahead! Rachel was impressed by his thoughtfulness.
“As a matter of fact,” she said, walking over to the coat closet by the front door, “I do.” She took a shawl out of the closet, draped it over her arm and rejoined him.
“Once more with feeling,” she declared, tilting her head up so that she could look into his eyes. She felt a warm shiver work its way up and down her spine, doing a much better job of warming her than any shawl ever could.
Wyatt could have sworn he felt her smile working its way into his system. Within seconds, it succeeded in taking him prisoner.
“My thoughts exactly,” he murmured belatedly. Opening the front door, he held it for her, waiting for Rachel to walk out of the house.
“Are you sure your sister won’t mind my coming to this on such short notice?” she asked. Important anniversary parties that were also milestones were meant to be celebrated with family and friends, not strangers who happened to tag along.
“Mind?” he asked incredulously. “Myra’s been consumed with curiosity ever since I told her I had someone to bring with me.”
He stood aside as she locked and secured the front door.
“She wanted to fix you up with one of her friends if I remember correctly,” Rachel recalled. He held the car door open for her and once again she had to silently admit that he had impressive manners. “Won’t she hold that against me?” she asked, sliding in.
“My sister might have some bad moments on occasion,” Wyatt admitted as he got in on his side, “but by and large Myra’s got a good heart and she genuinely wants everyone to be happy, including me. What did you say earlier in the week about overthinking things?” he asked, pointedly glancing at her before he backed out of the parking space.
“Point taken,” Rachel allowed. “By the way,” she went on, “I wanted to get your sister and her husband something but since I don’t know either of them and don’t have a clue what they might or might not like, I decided to just get a gift certificate for them.”
Wyatt couldn’t help appreciating her thoughtfulness. He hadn’t expected Rachel to give his sister and her husband anything. He had been too busy feeling triumphant about getting her to agree to be his date.
“Myra’s really going to love you,” he predicted, flashing a smile at Rachel.
“It’s just a gift certificate,” Rachel protested, brushing off his compliment. After all, it wasn’t that big an amount, although it definitely wasn’t that small, either.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Wyatt reminded her. “And besides, my sister loves spending money. I guarantee you have just gone to the top of her list even though she doesn’t know you—yet. But that’s probably going to change by the end of the evening.” He could see her stiffening her shoulders out of the corner of his eye. “This is going to be painless.” he promised her. “Except for possibly my mother.”
That phrase instantly caught Rachel’s attention. “Oh?”
He heard the wariness in her voice. “Don’t worry about it,” Wyatt told her. “My mother likes to be critical of everything. My career path, my sister’s choice of a husband, the way my father dresses. The way to make my mother happy is to provide her with something to complain about. If she didn’t have anything to criticize, I guarantee that she would be absolutely miserable. So, if you give her something to disapprove of, you actually contribute to my mother’s happiness.”
She shook her head, attempting to absorb all this in and sort it out.
“You have a very complicated family, Wyatt,” Rachel told him. She drew her purse in closer to her for comfort and to reassure herself that she still had the couple’s gift with her.
Wyatt laughed at her comment. She had hit the situation right on the head. “Tell me about it.”
Trying to distract herself, Rachel decided to ask Wyatt a few questions about his sister that might help her get through the evening.
“So tell me, what’s your sister like?”
“In a word, bossy.” He grinned. “But that’s just my point of view. She’s also very sweet and outgoing—and perpetually trying to lose five pounds,” he added, “even though Matthew is forever telling her that she’s perfect just the way she is.”
Matthew. That would be Myra’s husband, Rachel thought. She smiled at what Wyatt had said. “He sounds very nice.”
“He is,” he told her with feeling. “To have lasted fifteen years with my mother pecking away at him like some sort of invading rooster, I’d say that he damn well has to be.”
“Fifteen years?” Rachel echoed quizzically. “I thought you said this was their tenth anniversary.” Had she gotten that part wrong?
“Oh, it is,” he answered. “But they dated for five years first. My mother kept trying to get Myra to see other guys, saying that she felt Myra needed to experience more of life so she could be sure before she ‘jumped into the marriage’ and sealed her fate.” His mouth curved. “As you can see, my mother’s a hopeless romantic.”
“I don’t understand,” Rachel confessed. “If your mother feels that way, why is she even coming to this anniversary celebration?”
Wyatt laughed. “That,” he told her, “is part of the mind-boggling mystery that is my mother. And like I said, my mother’s not happy unless she had something to complain about. My sister’s marriage provides her with more than ample opportunity—even though she had to couch her reaction in subtle language.”
Rachel shook her head as she drew in a deep breath. “I can see that this is going to be a lot of fun,” she quietly predicted.
Wyatt spared her a glance and grinned before he looked back at the road. She was beginning to get the hang of it, he thought.
“You know, if you had told me this beforehand, I might have given you a different answer when you asked me to go with you.”
“I know,” Wyatt acknowledged, “but I really wanted you to come with me as my date.”
Rachel stared at his profile for a long moment. She had the impression that Wyatt meant what he had just said. She had no idea why that made her as happy as it did—but it really did.
Wyatt pulled up his car into the hotel’s parking lot less than ten minutes later. Turning off the engine, he looked at her.
“Want a few minutes to pull yourself together?” he offered.
“Nope,” she answered. “If I take those few minutes, I might just decide to turn around and walk home.”
“You do realize that you’re talking about fifteen miles?” he asked.
She looked unfazed. “However long it takes.”
Then, taking in a deep breath, she exhaled, opened her door and swung her legs out.
Realizing that she was about to get out of the car and not entirely sure what she was going to do after that, Wyatt quickly got out on his side and hurried over to hers.
Taking her arm, he
carefully escorted her out of the vehicle.
Rachel looked at him, amused. “I am perfectly capable of getting out of your car on my own.”
“I know,” Wyatt answered cheerfully. “I just wanted to do it right—and maybe also to keep you from escaping.” He gave her a wide grin. “You did say you were contemplating walking home.”
“I was kidding,” she told him. There was no way she would walk home from here, not after having put in more than half a day’s work at the restaurant. She didn’t have that much energy left at her disposal. She’d said that when she had been momentarily annoyed.
“Maybe you were,” he acknowledged, “but I don’t know you well enough to know that for certain.”
There was a twinkle in her eye as she looked at him. She was beginning to relax a little. “I guess you don’t at that,” she admitted. “But for future reference, I really don’t hike all that well when I’m in high heels.”
She turned her attention to the hotel they were entering. She’d seen the Bedford Hotel countless times as she’d driven by it, but she had never had an occasion to actually enter the building. She found it inviting. Its decor was very pleasing to the eye.
Despite never having been here before, she felt instantly at home.
“This seems like a nice place,” she commented to Wyatt as they walked inside.
“It is,” Wyatt agreed. And then he went on to tell her, “Matthew always likes to say, ‘Nothing but the best for my wife.’ The thing about it is that he genuinely means it.”
The more she heard about Wyatt’s brother-in-law, the more she found herself liking the man. She couldn’t begin to understand why Wyatt’s mother found fault with her son-in-law. In her place, she would have been overjoyed that her daughter had found someone so thoughtful and loving.
“That really sounds nice. What does your mother have against him?”
“Depends on what day of the week you ask,” Wyatt told her with a laugh. “But between you and me, I think that deep down she knows that Myra made the right choice, even though she did it without consulting my mother. My mother just can’t admit it without feeling as if she is losing face.”
The Late Bloomer's Road to Love Page 10
