Marie Ferrarella - Never Too Late for Love

There had never been any lies between them, not even half truths. Melanie couldn’t set a precedent now. “Bruce isn’t exactly a sophisticated, experienced man as far as women are concerned, Mama. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

The fact that Melanie’s loyalty lay with someone else stung her a little before she banked it down. Her smile remained intact as she asked, “How about me?”

Melanie laughed, giving her mother’s hand a quick, firm squeeze. “You can handle yourself. You always have.”

That was the price she paid for being strong, Margo thought. No one thought for a moment that she might be the one who could be hurt.

Which was, she reminded herself quickly with no patience for her momentary lapse, just the way she wanted it and just the way she always kept it. Never mind that it wasn’t true. That wasn’t anyone’s business but hers.

She winked at Melanie. “I promise not to skewer any vital, irreplaceable part of Mr. Bruce Reed, including his heart. How’s that?”

Melanie’s expression softened, guilt lightly flicking a finger at her conscience. “I didn’t mean to sound judgmental, Mama, but he doesn’t even date. He leads a very straight and narrow life. The man won’t even let himself be fixed up by any of his married friends.”

A challenge, thought Margo. She always loved a challenge, especially one that was so good-looking. “Then it’s about time he had a little fun, don’t you think?”

Melanie looked at her dubiously. “A little, yes, but—”

Margo raised one hand in a solemn pledge. “I promise not to lead him into Sodom or Gomorrah for at least the remainder of the afternoon.”

This time guilt not only flicked Melanie, it pinched. Remorse was instant. “I’m sorry, Mama, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

The tables turned immediately. Not for the world would Margo give her daughter one moment’s grief or concern. “You could never hurt my feelings, pet. Have you forgotten, I’ve got a hide as tough as a rhino?”

But Melanie saw through that. “It wasn’t your ‘hide’ I was thinking about.”

Margo redirected Melanie’s attention to her groom. “And it shouldn’t be my anything that’s on your mind at all. Not when you have that drop-dead-gorgeous man of yours promising to love and cherish you for the rest of his natural life.” She cocked her head, struggling to keep a grin from her lips. “Don’t you two have a honeymoon to go to?”

Melanie and Lance had discussed that and decided to put it off until they could afford to go to someplace memorable. “We’re not planning on going on a honeymoon until sometime later.”

Margo already knew that. She’d called and taken Joyce into her confidence. It was Joyce who’d secretly packed their luggage. “Take it from me, later has a habit of either slipping away or being used for something else. Go now, you won’t regret it.”

“I’m afraid that we ca—”

Allowing herself a dramatic flourish, Margo produced two airline tickets from her beaded purse. “Two tickets to Hawaii and a two-week reservation at the best hotel on Oahu.”

Overwhelmed, Melanie could only stare at the tickets in her mother’s hand. “Mother, you didn’t.”

Margo pressed the tickets into her hand. “The airline and hotel people seem to think I did.”

Lance joined them, slipping his arm around Melanie’s waist. He noticed the stunned expression on her face. “Everything all right?” He kissed her temple. “I got lonely.”

He couldn’t have been better if she’d handpicked him, Margo thought. Pleased, she took each of their hands in hers and held them for a moment, her heart brimming. “Oh, God, Melanie, he is perfect.”

Recovering, Melanie held up the tickets. “Mother’s sending us to Hawaii for our honeymoon.”

Coming to grips with his surprise, Lance began to demur. Margo recognized pride when she saw it and quickly headed it off. “It’s a wedding present. Two tickets to Oahu, first class, plus you’ll be staying at the best hotel, in the bridal suite.”

That had to have set her back a lot. Lance shook his head. “Mrs.—I mean Ms.—” Neither term seemed appropriate. He took a breath. “We can’t—”

“Call me Margo,” Margo told him. “We’re going to be an informal family. And I certainly can’t go, so you have to. You’re the only bridal couple I see in the room.”

Lance tried again, having the sinking feeling that the effort was doomed to failure. He already knew where arguing with Melanie got him. Nowhere. And he had a strong suspicion that it was a hereditary trait. “This is too generous.”

Money was only good for the happiness it could generate. There was no way she was going to let either one of them turn her gift down. “I have only one daughter, Lance. And, as of one o’clock this afternoon, only one son. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my money on than the two of you. Besides, you can’t refuse a wedding gift, it’s bad luck.”

Melanie placed one hand on her hip, suppressing a smile. When she was a little girl, her mother used to get her to do things by telling her that if she refused, it was bad luck. There was always a legend or fable that reflected the situation attached. She was fourteen before she realized that her mother had made all the fables up. “Another legend I don’t know about?”

Nostalgia surged through Margo. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

Lance opened his mouth, but Melanie stopped him. “Don’t bother. Nobody’s ever managed to talk Mama out of anything once she makes up her mind.”

He’d kind of figured that out on his own. “I wasn’t going to talk her out of it, I was just going to say thank you.” Lance looked at Margo, then with a smile, added, “Mom.”

There had to be something in the air today, some allergen that kept making her eyes tear up. Margo blinked twice, struggling not to let a single drop slip down her cheek. “Don’t mention it,” she murmured, embracing him.

Chapter Three

The car with Lance and Melanie in it pulled slowly away from the curb. The sound of the engine was drowned out by the cheers and raised voices, all attempting to outshout one another as they tried to make their own best wishes heard above the rest.

The din seemed to swirl around Margo like leaves caught up in the rush of a breeze, chasing one another in an eternally forward-moving circle.

Margo drew away from the edge of the crowd. She felt oddly removed from what was going on, a spectator who had just happened upon a scene and had yet to become a part of it. There was no denying that her heart was full to overflowing with happiness for her daughter, but at the same time, there was a downside to that joy. A sense of exclusion embraced her, making her feel strangely alone. More alone than she’d felt since she’d walked out of her father’s house all those years ago.

Annoyed with herself, with these emotions that insisted on roller-coastering through her, Margo struggled to regain control.

Oblivious to the people around her, she didn’t realize at first that the handkerchief at her elbow was being silently offered to her. When she did, she raised her eyes to look at the owner. It didn’t really surprise her that it was Bruce.

“Thought you might need this.” When she didn’t attempt to accept the handkerchief, he added, “It’s clean.”

Her mouth curved. “I’m sure your practice of hygiene is beyond reproach, Bruce, but I really don’t need a handkerchief.”

Yeah, you do, he thought, but rather than press the point, he pocketed the offering. Maybe she needed to deny her need more than she needed to wipe away the tears shimmering in her eyes.

“My mistake,” he allowed gallantly. With adroit ability that came from implementing compromises at business meetings, he nudged the conversation along a different path. “That was a very nice thing you did for them, sending Melanie and Lance off on an all-expense-paid honeymoon.”