Let's Get Mommy Married Page 6
Chris.
Funny how he had a way of popping into her head lately. But Danny got along very well with Chris. Maybe Chris could answer any lingering questions he might have and fill him in on—
Rosemary stopped herself abruptly. Maybe she’d better leave well enough alone. He was training her puppy. If she asked him to have a heart-to-heart with her son about sex, he might get the wrong idea. For the life of her, she didn’t know what the right idea was anymore. The man had her engine running even if she had taken the tires off nine years ago.
Sex was a subject that she was just going to have to handle on her own. “Anything you want to talk to me about, Danny?” she asked gently.
Turning, she saw that Danny was on the floor, trying to make Rocky sit instead of nibble on the side of the bureau. The conversation about sex was tabled.
“No!” She rushed over and pulled the dog away in dismay.
“Chris hasn’t finished training her.” It was half an apology, half an explanation.
“So I noticed.”
Rosemary returned to her closet, one eye on the dog. But Rocky had rediscovered her tail and was giving it a cursory lick. Satisfied that her bureau was temporarily out of danger, Rosemary moved a few hangers around and then took out a flowered sundress.
She held it up for Danny’s approval. “How about this one?”
He studied it thoughtfully, then nodded. “Okay. And could you wear your hair up? The way you did yesterday? So your neck shows?”
Now that was an odd request. He’d never commented on her hair before. She slid her hand along her neck. “My neck? Why do you want to see my neck?”
Danny shrugged carelessly, tickling the dog’s stomach. “Chris said it was pretty.”
“He did?” Rosemary’s pulse quickened just a tad. A little late for that, isn’t it? You matched him up with another woman, remember? “All right, if that’s what you want.” She pointed toward the door. “Now take Rocky out and scoot. I want to take a shower.”
Danny rose to his feet, holding Rocky. The dog was dangling over his arms like a boneless cat. He stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder at her bureau. “Can you wear that smelly stuff, too?”
Rosemary drew her brows together. “’Smelly stuff’?” she echoed.
Danny backtracked to her bureau. Moving a couple of jars around, he picked up a small bottle of perfume, then thrust it into her hand. “This.”
Was this her Danny? He was certainly giving her an awful lot of prerequisites for this “date” of theirs. She could just envision him when he really started dating girls.
Just what was it that he and Chris talked about so intently while they trained Rocky? She certainly didn’t want Danny growing up any faster than he already was.
Her hand curved around the bottle. “Okay, pretty dress, hair up, smelly stuff. Anything else?”
“I’ll let you know,” he said importantly as he walked out.
Definitely growing up too fast, she thought as she closed the door.
At exactly ten-thirty on the nose, Danny had a death grip on her hand and was dragging her out to the driveway and their car.
“What’s the rush, honey? Do we have reservations?” He looked at her blankly as she unlocked her car. “Apparently not.” Rosemary got in and waited until he was buckled in. “All right, I’m ready.” She placed her key into the ignition and turned it, then looked at him expectantly. “So, where to?”
Danny debated on how much to tell her. “Down the block.”
That would take them several hundred feet. “And then?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it, taking a deep breath. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
She’d be driving in fits and starts. And wouldn’t the Bedford police love that one? She could celebrate Mother’s Day by getting a ticket for going too slow.
“Danny, I’d really feel a lot better if you told me where we were going.” She saw the stubborn look that entered his eyes. That he had gotten from his father, she thought. “I’m going to find out where it is when we get there. A few minutes earlier won’t really matter, will it?”
“No, I guess not.” He sighed, then relented. “The Big Soda Shoppe.”
Rosemary stared at him. That was where Chris was supposed to meet Tommy Smith’s mother. He knew that. She’d told him because it was his favorite place to go and she’d thought it was an incredible coincidence.
“Danny, we can’t go there. Chris is meeting Mary there. You know, Tommy’s mother? If we show up, it’ll look like we’re spying.”
Danny gave her a soulful look that he knew always got to his mother. He saved it for special pleas. “But it’s my favorite place, and yours, too. You said so. They play all those old songs you like and it looks just like that place on ‘Happy Days.’”
Everything he said was true, but she still didn’t want to go. She had no desire to see Chris out with someone else, even if she had arranged it. She glanced at Danny and his pout deepened, weakening her resolve.
She supposed that it wasn’t that small a place. They could get a table somewhere in the corner, away from Chris and his date. He didn’t even have to see her if she was careful—
Great, now she was turning into a Peeping Thomasina. “Honey, I really don’t think that we should—” Danny’s eyes grew sadder as his lower lip protruded even further. Any more and he could use it as a rain catcher. Teri was right. She was a pushover. “Oh, all right, I suppose he probably won’t even see us.”
Danny beamed. “Great!”
Yeah, great.
“We’ll see just how great,” she murmured. With an inward sigh, she turned the car onto the main drag and drove South.
When they walked into The Big Soda Shoppe twenty minutes later, Rosemary spotted Chris immediately. He was seated, very much alone, at a booth near the front door. There were more than a few booths empty at this hour. With any luck, they could slide into one before Chris looked their way.
Rosemary glanced at her watch. It was five to eleven. The woman was obviously one of those people who arrived on the dot.
“Hey, there’s Chris,” Danny announced loudly, pointing him out.
“Yes,” she hissed softly, hoping that Danny would take her lead and lower his voice. “I know.”
His fingers wound in hers—an oddity that she hadn’t explored yet since Danny hated to hold handshe began to drag her toward Chris’s booth. “Let’s say hello.”
But she refused to budge. “Danny, we can’t just walk up to him. He’s on a date.”
Danny shook his head adamantly, gesturing with his free hand toward the booth. “But she’s not here yet. We can say hi, can’t we? Look, he’s seen us.”
Small wonder, she thought. Danny was practically shouting above the music.
“Didn’t you say it was rude to ignore people?” Danny persisted.
Served her right for enforcing etiquette to such a degree.
“Yes, I did.” There was nothing left to do but walk over to Chris’s booth. She pasted on a smile as she approached.
Chris rose slightly in his seat, his gaze fixed on Rosemary. Though he had a sweet tooth, Rosemary looked far more tempting than anything he was going to find on the menu. He’d never seen her wearing anything other than shorts and skimpy tops before. The dress she had on swirled around her legs as she walked and seemed to float along her hips like a multicolored cloud. She was wearing her hair piled up on her head, exposing a soft, ivory column that left his mouth dry.
She looked nervous, he thought, and wondered why.
“We’re not here to spy, honest,” Rosemary blurted before she could phrase her apology more gracefully. “Danny insisted on bringing me here for Mother’s Day. It’s his favorite place.”
“Excellent choice,” he told Danny. “I’m very partial to ice cream myself, and they’ve got a great selection of music available.” He nodded at the tiny jukeboxes that were the hallmark of each booth. “Would you like to sit down?” He ges
tured to the empty seats across from him.
Rosemary was very tempted, but she shook her head. It wouldn’t be right. “I don’t think I should be sitting with you. I mean, when your date arrives, I don’t think she’s banking on a foursome.”
Danny was already way ahead of her and blocked her argument. He pointed to the adjacent booth. “But we can sit down in the next booth, can’t we, Mom? Then we can talk to Chris until she gets here.”
Without waiting for her reply, he planted his bottom on the seat and twisted around so that he could look at Chris while he talked.
Rosemary bit her lip. She could just guess what was going through Chris’s head. “This is really very awkward.”
But he smiled and seemed to take it all in stride. “Why don’t you sit down with Danny? I could use the company.”
She sincerely doubted that, but he was being so nice about it that she couldn’t very well say no. Rosemary slid in opposite her son. Chris sat down in his booth, draping one arm over the side and turning his body so that he could face them.
“Well, I set this up and she is late. I guess I owe you a little company until she arrives.” Rosemary looked sternly at her son. “But once she gets here, we’re moving to another table, got that?”
Danny nodded solemnly, his baby fine hair bobbing up and down around his head.
Chris toyed with the straw in his ice-cream soda. Rosemary noted that the whipped cream had faded into the drink. He’d been here awhile.
“So, how’s your Mother’s Day going so far?” he asked her.
“Rocky sat up and rolled over three times for her,” Danny announced before she could answer.
Rosemary spread her hands out, as if to indicate that her plate was full. “What more could any mother ask for?” She laughed easily.
Her eyes crinkled a little when she laughed. He thought it was cute. And she was delicious. “I could think of a few things.”
The implication in his voice had Rosemary’s imagination taking wing. She curbed it, but not quickly enough. She felt her cheeks growing pink again and damned herself for her fair complexion.
“I really can’t,” she lied, looking down at the printed menu tucked against the jukebox.
Yes, she could, he thought, smiling to himself. “Wasn’t this scene in Separate Tables, or something?”
Rosemary raised her eyes from the menu. “You watch old movies?”
He nodded as if that was a given. “Only kind worth watching.” Chris could tell by her expression that she agreed with him. Warming to his subject, he leaned closer. “You know, the university shows some terrific old classics every Friday at their theater. Would you be interested in going with me this Friday?”
The easy atmosphere burst apart like a soap bubble drifting in the wind. She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m busy.”
There was that signal again. But this time he pushed just a little. “Next Friday?”
She shook her head. “No, I promised Teri I’d babysit her twins.”
Danny looked at his mother, surprised. This was news to him.
Chris picked up the quizzical look on the boy’s face. He lifted a shoulder and then let it drop. “Maybe some other time.”
“Maybe.” Her smile felt a little too tight. The waitress approached her table. She was never so relieved to see a stranger in her life.
Danny hadn’t even bothered looking at the menu. He had been planning this all week. “Two Kitchen Sinks with the works.”
So saying, he looked hopefully at his mother.
If he had one of his own, he would be sick all night. Still, she couldn’t turn him down completely. She tried not to think about her arteries screaming in selfdefense. “How about one Kitchen Sink with two spoons?”
Danny glanced at Chris. “Maybe three?”
She was beginning to wonder who was the matchmaker in the family, her or Danny. “Mr. Maverick is waiting for someone, remember?” Rosemary glanced at her watch. “Someone who’s late.”
Rosemary hated that more than anything. She had always thought it was the height of rudeness to keep anybody else waiting.
Danny looked at Chris, hoping for corroboration. “Just until she shows up,” he agreed. “They’re really something else,” he told Chris.
“I’m sure they are.” Chris looked at Rosemary, his eyes meeting hers. “Maybe I’ll just have a taste when it arrives.”
“Provided your date hasn’t,” Rosemary felt honor bound to interject.
“Provided my date hasn’t,” he echoed, his smile reaching up to his eyes and then flowing to hers.
His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, Rosemary thought a second before she roused herself. She wasn’t supposed to be having thoughts about him now, while he was waiting for another woman. A woman she had set him up with.
She could just hear Teri berating her. “God, Rosemary, what are you giving away?”
But he wasn’t hers to give away. She was just doing what she always did, trying to bring a little joy into other people’s lives. Arranging other people’s happiness. Other people who didn’t seize up and then get a deep, burning, sinking sensation in the pit of their stomach at the very mention of the word “date.”
“Three spoons it is,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage. She looked up at the waitress, who wasn’t looking at her at all. Her eyes and a very inviting smile were fixed on Chris. “We’ll have a Kitchen Sink,” Rosemary told the woman, “any time you’re ready.”
“I’m ready now,” the waitress purred, still looking at Chris. “Say,” she asked suddenly, “aren’t you the guy on the bus?”
He shook his head. “I never take the bus.”
“No, I meant—oh, never mind,” she mumbled. “That was a Kitchen Sink?” she asked Rosemary.
“With three spoons,” Danny piped up.
“With three spoons,” the woman muttered, walking away. She looked over her shoulder at Chris again and then shook her head, as if trying to summon a memory.
5
“Here you go, one Soda Shoppe Kitchen Sink with three spoons.”
Balancing the huge concoction of pinks, greens, whites and assorted colors in between, the waitress carefully slid the teeming dish of ice cream from the tray onto the table. She moved it to the center of the table, then deposited the silverware beside it. Sparing Chris one long, wistful look, she retreated to take other orders.
Danny leaned over and picked up a spoon. But instead of digging into the mountain of ice cream the way Rosemary expected him to, he scrambled off his seat, all legs and wiggly parts. He looked not unlike Rocky, Rosemary thought.
He waved the utensil in front of an amused Chris. “Here’s your spoon, Chris. You can have that taste now.”
That had to be the biggest plate of ice cream he had ever seen, Chris decided. He gave a cursory glance to-ward the door. A man and a woman entered, preceded by four children. Satisfied, Chris rose.
“Scoot over,” he told Danny.
But Danny sank down in his seat, firmly replanting his bottom.
“Um, it’s a little sticky over here.” He nodded toward his side of the bench. “Maybe you’d better sit down next to Mom.” The suggestion was tendered a little too brightly. “I don’t want to get my good pants dirty.”
Rosemary raised a brow. Now this was something new. Since when had Danny begun to notice that he was a dirt magnet? Or care?
Chris was standing at her elbow, waiting. “Do you mind?”
From this angle, he looked so tall, so sexy. So overwhelming. For a split second she froze before coming to life.
“No, of course not.” Rosemary shifted over, giving him room. His leg brushed against hers as he seated himself. He left it there, as if he wasn’t aware that their limbs were touching. Rosemary’s heart skipped a beat.
This was all so crazy. One minute he was a friend, a neighbor she’d fixed up with someone she thought was his match. The next minute he was something else entirely. Someone who had her warming up a
nd freezing up at the same time.
She had to make up her mind.
She had, she insisted silently. Chris was someone else’s date and that was that. She wasn’t in the dating market. She just had to keep reminding herself of that.
Completely oblivious to the internal skirmish being waged a heartbeat away from him, Chris skimmed his spoon along a mound of strawberry ice cream. It mingled with a little of the pistachio and some of the hot fudge topping. He slid the spoon into his mouth and closed his eyes, savoring the taste.
Watching, Rosemary felt herself drifting again.
Why didn’t they turn up the air-conditioning in this place? The room was getting incredibly warm. She reached for her glass of water and took a long sip.
Chris looked at Danny. “Hmm, you’re right. This is good.”
Danny crowed in triumph. “See, I knew it. Mom likes it, too, don’t you, Mom?”
Things would go a whole lot smoother if she got her mind back on the ice cream and not on the consumer. With determination, Rosemary dipped her spoon into the towering, colorful mountain, then let it melt on her tongue.
“I love it,” she corrected. “If I gave in to my inclinations, I’d look like a Kitchen Sink pretty soon myself.”
Purposely avoiding looking at him, Rosemary took another spoonful of dessert and let it slide down her throat.
“I don’t see something like that happening for a long while.”
Despite her best intentions, she raised her eyes to Chris’s. They were skimming over her as lightly as his spoon had skimmed along the serving of ice cream.
And she was melting just as fast.
He was good, she thought. Very good. He could raise goose flesh on her without so much as touching her. He didn’t have to.
His eyes were doing it for him.
Somehow, though it was almost paralyzed, she found her tongue. “Thanks, but you had to say that.” Sinking quickly, Rosemary looked toward the front door as it opened. But it was only a little girl followed closely by her parents. No thirty-year-old woman, looking around, holding a white flower. No Mary Smith in sight.
“No, I didn’t,” Chris contradicted. “I don’t have to say anything. I can just put some ice cream in my mouth and keep it shut.”