The Mother-in-Law Read online

  “Welcome,” Meredith said casually over her shoulder, working on a flower arrangement in the back corner of the building.

  I glanced up from where I stood at the register, taking in his appearance with confusion. It couldn’t be real, he couldn’t be there, and yet, he was. I watched as he walked into the shop, his eyes searching around, landing on Meredith first and finally, me.

  “Hi,” he said, his expression confused at first and then shocked. “Loren?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Jack.” His name was a whispered statement, the only word I could muster.

  “I-I-can’t believe it. You work here?”

  “I own it,” I said, my eyes darting proudly around the room we’d put our hearts and souls into for months before opening.

  “We own it,” Meredith said playfully, bounding up to the front of the shop to see what was going on.

  “Right,” I agreed. “We own it. Jack, this is my cousin, Meredith.”

  Meredith held her hand out, smiling slyly, and I wondered what had gotten up her sleeve. “Nice to meet you, Jack.” She paused. “Have we met before?”

  He stared at her for a moment, but shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “You look incredibly familiar.” I groaned internally. Meredith was beautiful—despite being a decade older than me, she had no trouble landing guys my age and even younger. It hadn’t bothered me before, not really, because I’d basically sworn off guys since Travis, but I couldn’t help finding her abrasive personality particularly overwhelming in this scenario. “How do you know Loren?”

  “We met in Oakton a few weeks ago. Jack owns a bar downtown,” I explained, my eyes widening at her. I’d talked about Jack for days after we met, so she knew all about him. I hoped she’d catch on quickly.

  “Oh, he’s the one that nearly trampled you?” she asked with a laugh. I watched her take a step back from him, a clear sign that she realized he wasn’t hers to claim.

  “Well, that was my dog, actually,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck as his cheeks pinkened. “You talked about me?”

  “Darling, she never stopped,” she said, winking at me. “I’ll leave you two to it. It was nice to meet you.”

  Jack shook her hand as she held it out again. Once she was in the back of the room, he leaned in, his voice lowered. “I have a confession.”

  “What’s that?” He’s slept with Meredith.

  His smile was small and filled with uncertainty. “I knew you worked here.”

  That hadn’t been what I expected him to say. “You did?”

  “I may have looked you up,” he said. “But I didn’t want to seem like a crazy stalker, so I waited a while to come in. And…well, it still felt a little crazy, but I wanted to see you and—”

  I put my hand across the counter to where his lay, just for a moment. “I’m glad you came.”

  Relief filled his expression. “Really?”

  “Mhm, very much so. I forgot your last name by the time I’d made it home the day we met, and I couldn’t very well come back into the bar without making it obvious that’s why I’d come. I was…I mean, I didn’t know if you—”

  “I do,” he said, and it was his turn to place his hand over mine.

  “You do?”

  He nodded. “I like you, Loren.” His brows raised with assurance. “A lot.”

  I smiled, my cheeks warming. I’d lost sight of Meredith in the store, but I knew wherever she was, she was listening with a devilish grin. “I like you, too,” I admitted. “What I know about you, anyway.”

  “Would you like to get to know me better?” he asked. “Maybe tonight? Dinner?”

  “A date?” I asked. I hadn’t been asked out on a date in years, hadn’t accepted in even longer.

  “If that’s okay with you.”

  I thought for a moment. I’d promised myself I’d stay away from men until Rynlee was old enough to understand. When her dad left, the pain of his betrayal had devastated her. There were still nights she cried over him, asking why he didn’t want to see her. I didn’t want to put her through anything like that again, so no matter what I wanted, I had to be careful of her heart. I’d promised myself that my next relationship would be the one to stick, and I couldn’t give that chance to just anyone. “I…I have a daughter.”

  His smile disappeared for a half-second. “I know,” he said simply. “I met her, remember?”

  “Yes, I know, I just…I have to be careful where she’s involved. Her father and I, when we split, it was insanely hard on Ryn. I can’t put her through anything like that again.”

  “I understand,” he said, his voice calm. “Really, I do. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.” He let go of my hand and stepped back.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “No worries. Just…if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He turned to walk away, but stopped. My heart leapt with unexpected hope when he began to speak again. “Oh, I forgot. It’s probably too late by now, but my mom said peroxide and dish soap should get those stains out.”

  I smiled at him, feeling unexpected tears in my eyes. It was silly, and I couldn’t explain why they’d come on so quickly, but there they were, blurring my eyes. I guess the reason was simple: he’d remembered. He’d remembered my stain, remembered me. Travis was never the thoughtful type, never one to remember anniversaries or even birthdays half the time. He certainly never remembered little details, like the fact that I preferred dark to milk chocolate, or white to red wine. Once, he even forgot I was allergic to scented fabric softener. I had a rash for days after he’d washed a load in Hawaiian Breeze. “Thank you.” As he turned around again with a slight nod, I sucked in a deep breath, beginning to speak.

  Before I could utter a word, he’d spun back to face me with eyes full of hope. “Yeah?”

  “If we did go out, we’d have to take things slow.”

  “That’s no problem. In fact, I prefer it that way. Merlin gets attached too easily.”

  I pressed my lips together, shaking my head dotingly at him, my cheeks pink from happiness. “When would you like to go?”

  “Is tonight too fast for you?”

  I studied his face, the lines of wisdom and laughter, the dark eyes that met mine with a sort of deep connection I hadn’t experienced in so long. There was kindness there, a kindness that ran deep, and a childlike quality—playfulness, that would make for a wonderful quality in a partner and a father for Rynlee someday.

  I was getting ahead of myself, I knew, but Jack was like that. He made me see a future. Believe in a future again. He seemed to be everything Travis wasn’t—caring, because he’d patched up my arm, thoughtful, because he’d remembered to ask his mom about the stain Merlin caused, and attentive, because he’d searched me out. I had been the one to ask Travis out the first time, the one to call him back after a week of not hearing anything after that date. I’d pushed too hard, according to Meredith. Done too much. He was the one supposed to woo me, but I’d just liked him so much. With Jack, it felt right. I stayed still and he chased. This was how it should be. He was everything I needed. So far, anyway. I needed to slow down, for Rynlee’s sake if nothing else.

  Instead, I heard myself saying, “Tonight’s perfect.”

  Chapter Three

  Loren

  “Are you sure I look okay?” I asked, staring at the mirror and picking apart my every flaw. It wasn’t like me to put so much concern into how I looked. I spent much more time on Rynlee’s appearance than my own, but I wanted to look nice that night. I think Meredith could tell, because she stood and walked toward me, smoothing down my hair and kissing my head.

  Since my mother had died, Meredith had become like a stand-in mom for me, our twelve-year age difference enough that most of the time she felt more like a parent than a friend. On top of that, she had more memories of my mom than I did, and it comforted me to learn about her.

  “You look beautiful. He won’t know what hit him.” She bumped m
y hip playfully with hers. “You’re just missing one thing.” She reached for the bed where her purse lay—it was blue with purple stitching, one of her favorites. Meredith had always made her own purses, eccentric and whimsical, just like her. She pulled out a plum lipstick, swiping it over my lips. “There, now it’s perfect.”

  “Thanks, Mer. And you’re sure you’re okay to keep Rynlee?”

  “Of course,” she said, slapping her thigh as my daughter bounded from the bed and into her arms. “We’re going to have so much fun aren’t we, Rynnee-Ren?”

  My daughter squealed with delight as Meredith spun around the room with her in her arms. They stopped spinning as the doorbell rang and my blood turned to ice in my veins. “Maybe this is too much,” I said, my throat suddenly dry. “Maybe I should just wait a while. I mean, Travis and I just broke up seven months ago.”

  “Yeah, and good riddance to that,” Meredith covered Rynlee’s ears, before mouthing ‘asshole.’ “He didn’t deserve you, Loren, but more than that, you didn’t deserve him. You deserve to be happy.” She kissed Ryn’s head. “Doesn’t she, sweet girl? Doesn’t Mommy deserve to be happy?”

  “Yeah!” she screamed, throwing her arms in the air.

  “But what if it’s too much?”

  “You won’t know that if you don’t get out there and try. Come on, you can do this,” she said, taking my hand in hers. She pulled open the bedroom door and practically shoved me out first. “Don’t keep him waiting too long. Prince Charming turns into a pumpkin at midnight.”

  “That’s not right, Aunt Mer,” Rynlee said, giggling with delight.

  “It’s not, huh? I thought you were on my side,” she teased as we descended the oak staircase. I could see his outline through the beveled glass of my large front door.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said, taking a deep breath. I leaned down, kissing Rynlee’s lips and pulling Meredith into a one-armed hug.

  “Knock ’em dead, kiddo,” she said, hugging me back before turning with Rynlee to head toward the kitchen.

  “What’s that mean? Knock who dead?” Rynlee inquired.

  I didn’t hear Meredith’s answer as I pulled open the door. He was dressed in a black dress shirt and jeans, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. I smiled at him, glad I’d chosen to wear the dressier of my two options since we hadn’t said where we were going. I ran a hand over my plum-colored dress.

  “Wow,” he said, swallowing visibly. “You look incredible.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “You do too.”

  “Thanks.” He handed me the bouquet. “I hope you like lilies. I called your store, and Becky, I think it was, she said she thought they were your favorite.”

  “I do love them,” I said, and it was true. Becky was almost right. After sunflowers, they were my second favorite flower, and the bouquet he’d chosen was truly beautiful. “That was really kind of you.” I placed my nose to them, breathing in their scent before setting the flowers in an empty vase on a table near me. “Come on in. Let me go get some water for these, and I’ll be right back.”

  “It was no trouble,” he said with a nod, stepping through the threshold. “I didn’t want to get anything wrong.” I smiled at him, trying to pretend the gesture wasn’t enough to make me teary-eyed again as I compared him to my ex. He continued to amaze me. I disappeared into the kitchen, waving to Meredith who gave me a doe-eyed expression about the flowers. I rolled my eyes at her, playing off how sweet the gesture was, and ran water into the vase.

  When I came back into the foyer, placing the flowers back onto the table, Jack was staring around the room in awe. “This place is really something,” he said.

  “Thank you. It’s a family home. Passed down through the generations, you know? I could never afford something like this in today’s market.”

  “Well, it’s incredible. I love old houses like this. My parents own one similar, but definitely not this grand.”

  I smiled. Truth was, my house—once called a manor—really was something special, but growing up in it, I’d never appreciated it like I supposed I should. Anytime I had guests, they always seemed to be in awe of a place that I only saw as a messy work-in-progress. There was so much I wanted to update. It made me feel a bit guilty. “You ready to go?”

  “Yeah, yep.” Seeming to realize he’d been too focused on the house and not enough on his date, he stepped back, holding the door open for me.

  “So, where are you taking me?”

  * * *

  We arrived at the restaurant a half hour later. It was a quiet steakhouse I’d seen a thousand times but never bothered to stop at.

  “Do you like Able’s?” he asked, nodding his head toward the restaurant as he unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed from the car.

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never eaten here,” I said, joining him on the sidewalk.

  “You haven’t?” He folded his arm, holding out his elbow for me to loop my arm through. “Oh, it’s one of my favorite places. It’s understated, you know? It doesn’t have the attitude of a five-star, but I swear the food’s every bit as good if not better.”

  I smiled as he let go of my arm to open the door for me. “Well, don’t make me take your word for it.”

  “I don’t plan on it,” he said joyfully, rushing forward to get the interior door.

  We walked into the crowded room, the smell of simmering steak and onions hitting my nose all at once. It was warm, comfortably so, and a smiling waiter approached us within seconds of entering. “Hello, table for two?”

  I nodded and the waiter grabbed two menus from a stack at the edge of a table and took a few steps, indicating where to follow. Jack held his arm out so I would go in front of him. His hand touched the small of my back to let me know he was there. I didn’t need him to do it, but I found comfort in the fact that he did. My ex was very distant, and he rarely touched me unless he wanted something. To feel another human’s touch is a very intimate thing, I’ve found. It’s why we shy away from touching knees with strangers when we’re in close proximity to them. It’s why holding hands is such a big deal. Because touch, more than a kiss and more than sex, is the single thing that connects us as humans. At least, that’s what I’ve always believed.

  We were led to a table in the far corner of the room and the waiter set our menus down, took our drink orders, then scurried away. Before we’d even begun talking, Jack’s phone rang. “I’m sorry about this,” he said, pulling it from his pocket. His face grew serious as he stood. “I’m…really sorry. I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”

  I swallowed, trying not to feel bitter as he darted away from the table and out of the restaurant. Didn’t people usually wait until the date had gone poorly to fake an emergency? Was I really so bad at this? Had I already frightened him away? I looked around the crowded room, trying not to appear as pitiful as I felt. I met another woman’s eyes—she was clearly on a date herself—and when she looked away too fast, I knew she’d seen what had happened. Embarrassment radiated through me, and I felt my cheeks growing too hot. I considered my options, wondering how long was too long to stay and wait? Would he bother to explain himself? Should I at least pay for our drinks before darting? I watched the door with hopeful eyes, each moment that passed more painful than the one before it. When I was ready to give up, I let out a heavy breath, spying him hurrying back into the building.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting down across from me once again.

  I tried not to look as relieved as I felt. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” he said. “I know it’s not. I sincerely apologize, Loren. It was my mother. I wouldn’t have picked up for anyone else.”

  “Is…everything all right?”

  “She was calling to check in, but I wanted to be sure it wasn’t anything too serious. I’ll talk to her later, though, and again, I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.” He scooted further in toward the table, laying out his napkin. “So, let’s get back to our date, shall we? Te
ll me about yourself, Loren,” he said, placing his folded hands on the table and leaning toward me.

  “I’m pretty boring,” I said, dismissing his question rather quickly. I was just relieved he’d returned and that he hadn’t taken another girl’s call while he was with me, like Travis did on our second date. What was there to say that Jack didn’t already know? That wouldn’t scare him away?

  “Somehow I doubt that’s true.”

  “It is. Annoyingly so.”

  “Tell me about Rynlee, then.”

  Now, that was easier. I sucked in a breath. “She’s…stubborn. Full of life. She loves to play pretend and dress-up—I can barely keep her out of her costumes. She loves to dance. I’m pretty sure she danced before she could walk. Her laugh can make me laugh, even when I’m furious. She hates having her hair done, hates to get dressed. She loves chocolate and peppermint, but not together.” I heaved a sigh. “Honestly, she’s just the sweetest little thing. I’m not sure how I would get on without her.” I was staring at the tabletop, thinking of her with blurring vision. Motherhood had made me so sappy, I cried at the drop of a hat now. I hated to be away from her, even for a moment.

  “You’re a good mom,” he said finally.

  “I try to be,” I said. “But I’ve made mistakes.”

  “Who hasn’t?” He shrugged.

  “Do you have kids?” The waiter approached and placed our drinks in front of us. He took a sip of his wine before answering.

  “No,” he said. “I’ve never been married.”

  “Neither have I,” I told him. “Rynlee’s father and I were engaged, but we called it off a little less than a year ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out to take my hand.

  “Are you?” I asked with a slight smirk.

  There was that laugh again, the one that made me weak in the knees. “No, not really.” He added, too quickly, “Only because that had to happen for us to be here.”