Actually, he was right. Violet would readily accept a cancellation if it was because she was seeing a man. In fact, she’d probably toast to it at the dinner party. But Cleo’s idea of another date with Dylan didn’t involve his kids. It wasn’t fair on them.
‘I’m sorry. I really think I should go to Violet’s, as I was invited.’ When he didn’t respond she said, ‘But I’d like to meet up the day after. If you’re not too hung-over.’
‘I have two kids. The days of getting wasted are long behind me, with my responsibilities.’ He said it in a posh voice designed to make her smile. ‘So yes, I’d love to meet up the day after. Their mom is picking them up in the afternoon, so how about late afternoon or early evening? I could come to you. Perhaps we could grab a bite to eat, if you can fit anything in after Thanksgiving.’
‘That sounds perfect.’
And when she hung up the phone, Cleo’s smile as she passed the mirror in the hallway told her all she needed to know. This was a good thing. And if she let it, it could be areallygood thing.
9
22 REDCLIFFE PLACE, STAMFORD, CONNECTICUT
Dylan had been nervous about calling Cleo tonight. But after Prue had quizzed him about the mystery blonde, he’d been all the more determined to see her again. Part of him had resisted when she’d texted him because of his involvement with her lease on the store, but he’d come to his senses pretty quickly when he realised that most people came with complications. And as Cleo had said, this was business. All the tenants had acknowledged his letter now and it was out of his hands. Deep down, Dylan hoped the new owner might consider keeping the stores. It was a good income, after all. But for Dylan himself, it was a chance to move on and do what he wanted to do.
When the doorbell rang, Ruby answered it before Jacob got a chance and a row escalated.
‘Calm down, both of you.’ Dylan managed a smile when he saw Delia, Prue’s mother, standing on the step, unable to come in because of the two kids fighting in front of her. ‘Let your gran in. It’s cold out there you know!’
Dylan shut the door behind her and after the kids had hugged Granny Delia hello, he prised them apart and they both scarpered—Jacob to get his Lego boat on a tray in the living room to show his gran, and Ruby to make an afternoon tea. It was rare Granny Delia braved the Bakersfield house since the divorce, and Dylan was certain it wasn’t just to see the grandkids.
‘Honestly,’ said Dylan. ‘They create the same drama when we cross the road and they fight over whose turn it is to press the button for the lights.’
‘I’m sure they do.’ Delia accepted his gesture to go through to the kitchen. ‘Prue and William would fight constantly over the same things.’
‘How is William?’ Prue’s brother was overseas at a top London University where he worked as a teacher. He was a great guy and so different from Prue, dressing in clothes from charity stores—his own admission—and frugal when it came to buying necessities.
‘He’s getting married,’ Delia announced with glee. Her mom, unlike Prue, was unafraid of getting dirty, and had already seated herself on a stool beside the cooking area where Ruby was messily assembling pots of jam and cream and hacking apart some scones to arrange on a plate.
‘That’s fantastic.’ Dylan resisted the urge to get involved and take control of food preparations. His mom had been most insistent he give his kids independence early on. ‘They’ll end up wanting you to do everything otherwise,’ she’d told him.
‘He’s with a delightful young English lady, called Anastasia. She’s also a lecturer at the university.’
‘When’s the wedding?’ Dylan helped Ruby with the knife. She wasn’t ready for everything yet.
‘Next August, so I’ve got a while to choose my outfit.’
He left Ruby to put the scone halves on a plate while he put the kettle on and offered his ex-mother-in-law a cup of tea or coffee. She chose tea and he carried on his conversation when Jacob appeared to show off his Lego building skills.
‘I hope you’ll have a hat like you wore to our wedding,’ said Dylan with a wink.
‘I’ve got one in mind, don’t you worry.’
‘You always liked your hats, Delia.’ He poured the tea and set a cup in front of her with a tiny china tray to discard the teabag when the liquid reached the desired strength. Most Americans drank coffee, but Dylan’s family had bucked the trend many years ago and tea was a regular offering in this house.
‘Hats make a wedding.’ She poured a little milk into her cup.
They enjoyed their tea and scones—Uncle William’s Anastasia would approve, Ruby told them. ‘Seeing as she comes from England where they eat scones all the time,’ she claimed.
When they’d eaten and Ruby and Jacob raced off to greet Mackenzie, who’d said she’d pop round and play board games with them given the weather was so atrocious, Dylan’s mother-in-law got down to business.
‘I know Prue came to see you,’ she began. Usually so in control, the woman looked nervous for once.
He wouldn’t be swayed. ‘She did, but I’m still not sure why, Delia. She wanted the divorce. She made her decision.’
‘She made her bed, you mean?’
‘If you want to put it that way, then yes. I didn’t want the divorce, so you can’t blame me for being angry and upset when she comes knocking on my door telling me it was a mistake. I mean, regardless of me, what about Ruby and Jacob? It’s not fair to confuse them. It’s taken time and effort to get them to a place where they are accepting of the situation.’
