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“Clear as a bell.”
Diana slapped a hand over her mouth and slid a few feet along the wall outside the kitchen before she let out an audible gasp. Her first born was keeping her in the dark about something, just as Diana had suspected. And Frank had pooh-poohed the whole thing.
Men just didn’t get it. It wasn’t called women’s intuition for nothing—and she wasn’t just a woman but a mother. Mothers saw every emotion on their children’s faces, knew every body movement.
She’d known something was wrong with Abby. Now it’d been verified, not by rumor but by the person in question, no less. Abby and Greg were on the verge of separating. Her daughter had hidden their problems, not seeking advice from the one who loved her most in the world. Diana could’ve helped, too, she was sure of it.
Keep other people in the dark. The words stung. She wasn’t “other people.” She was Abby’s mother.
And what about Melissa? What was her problem—because she definitely had one, something big, too. Had she confided in Abby?
Diana moved out of range, not wanting to hear more distressing words, not on the anniversary of the most wonderful day of her life. But she had to tell Frank what she’d learned, had to share the awful news with her own partner so that she could make it through the rest of the evening.
At least she could count on Frank to understand.
She hoped.
Chapter Four
by Christyne Butler
Don’t think, don’t feel.
Just keep breathing and you’ll get through this night unscathed.
Unscathed, but with a broken heart.
Melissa squared her shoulders, brushed the wetness from her cheeks and heaved a shuddering breath that shook her all the way to her toes.
There. Don’t you feel calmer?
No, she didn’t, but that wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own.
She’d fallen in love with Josh on their very first date and after tonight, she’d probably never see him again.
The past two weeks had been crazy at her job. Trying to make it through what had been ten hours without her usual caffeine fix, having decided that two cups of coffee and three diet sodas a day weren’t the best thing for her, had taken its toll. She’d been moody and pissy and okay, she was big to admit it, a bit dramatic.
Hey, she was her mother’s daughter.
But none of that explained why the man of her dreams was going to break her heart.
Another deep breath did little to help, but it would have to do. Between helping her sister plan tonight’s party and Josh’s strange behavior, Melissa knew she was holding herself together with the thinnest of threads.
The scent of fresh coffee drifted through the house and Melissa groaned. Oh, how she ached for a hot cup, swimming in cream and lots of sugar.
Pushing the thought from her head, she picked up the gift basket that held everything her parents would need for a perfect second honeymoon in Italy. There was a small alcove right next to the dining room, a perfect place to stash it until just the right moment.
Turning, she headed for the door of her sister’s office when the matching antique photo frames on a nearby bookshelf caught her eye.
The one on the right, taken just a few short years ago, was of Abby and Greg standing at the altar just after being presented to their friends and family as Mr. and Mrs. Gregory DeSena. Despite the elaborate setting, and the huge bridal party standing on either side of them, Melissa right there next to her sister, Abby and Greg only had eyes for each other. In fact, the photographer had captured the picture just as Greg had gently wiped a tear from her sister’s cheek.
The other photograph, a bit more formal in monochrome colors of black and white, showed her mother and father on their wedding day. Her mother looked so young, so beautiful, so thin. Daddy was as handsome as ever in his tuxedo, his arm around his bride, his hand easily spanning her waist. The bridal bouquet was larger and over-the-top, typical for the early 80’s, but her mother’s dress…
Melissa squeezed tighter to the basket, the cellophane crinkling loudly in the silent room.
Abby had planned her wedding with the precision of an army general, right down to her chiffon, A-line silhouette gown with just enough crystal bling along the shoulder straps to give a special sparkle. Their mother looked the opposite, but just as beautiful wearing her own mother’s gown, a vintage 1960 beauty of satin, lace and tulle with a circular skirt that cried out for layers of crinoline, a square-neck bodice and sleeves that hugged her arms.
A dress that Melissa had always seen herself wearing one day.
