Second Honeymoon. Laura Abbot
blushed. A seventy-two-year-old woman, still capable of enjoying a compliment and still as beautiful, wrinkles and all, as the first day he’d laid eyes on her.
He was a lucky man.
THURSDAY AFTERNOON Justin got off the school bus, flipped the bird at Sam Grider, then glared at the departing vehicle, choking on the noxious exhaust fumes. He’d had it with that guy’s bullying. Sam had ragged on him unmercifully for his stupid oral book report in English. “Whatsa matter, Harper? Can’t ya read? That’s not how the story ends, dork.”
Whether Mrs. Kelly, his English teacher, knew that or not, she sure did when Grider got finished. Even now, remembering the snickers and stares of his classmates, Justin reddened. Crap. He hated Grider, he hated books, he hated school. Actually, he hated his whole lousy life.
Which was about to get worse. Thrusting his hand in his pocket, he fingered the note that would probably get him grounded for a month. Mrs. Kelly had kept him after class, her steely gray eyes boring into him. “Justin, I’m extremely disappointed in you.” Then she’d written the note informing his parents that not only had he not finished the book, he’d “prevaricated”—Jeez, who talked like that in real life?—a form of cheating she found a “serious breach of morality.”
In other words, he’d screwed up royally.
He wondered briefly what would happen if he threw the note away. But Mrs. Kelly had asked him to have his parents sign it and return it to her. Ha! If he lived long enough after his father got through with him.
The only thing that might save his bacon was that his grandparents were coming that afternoon. Maybe his dad wouldn’t make a big stink in front of them. Or maybe his grandfather would remember some ancient story about a time when the perfect Scott Harper had actually messed up. Fat chance!
Out of the blue, an idea came to him. Tomorrow was Friday. He could tell Mrs. Kelly his parents hadn’t been home to sign the note, that he’d have it for her Monday. Lots of things could happen between now and then. Especially if his parents were pleased with the surprise.
He scuffed his toe against the curb, then started slowly for home. He had a feeling they wouldn’t be pleased. Not when they barely even talked to each other. Mom was always rolling her eyes at Dad when he was late getting home from work, and he kept telling her how important every darn business deal was. They acted like they didn’t even love each other, and it was enough to make Justin puke.
With a jolt, the familiar sick feeling punched him in the gut. He closed his eyes, holding back tears—and fear.
What if they didn’t love each other?
He crossed his fingers. The surprise just had to work.
MEG HAULED THE LAST BAG out of the grocery cart and stuffed it into the back seat of her Lexus. She glanced at her watch and swore. The Harpers would be arriving any time within the next hour and she still had to pick up Hayley at cheerleading practice, unload the groceries, marinate the steak, toss the salad and set the table. No doubt Marie, in her day, would’ve finished most of her chores by noon. Easing from the parking lot into the flow of traffic, Meg grimaced. Her mother-in-law was a wonderful person, but she was a hard act to follow and always made her feel like a Martha Stewart dropout.
Halfway to the high school, her cell phone rang. One hand on the wheel, she groped around in her purse, finally coming up with it. The caller was Jannie reminding her of their scheduled Saturday tennis game. “I’m sorry, but Scott’s parents will be here. I should’ve let you know.”
“No problem. I’ll find another game. Enjoy the in-laws.”
“I’ll try.” Meg steeled herself, wondering how on earth she could hide the state of her marriage from Scott’s parents. “They’re really nice people.”
“Right. That must explain why you get so uptight every time they come to Tulsa.”
Meg raced through an intersection on the yellow light. “I like them. But…they dote on Scott. He can do no wrong.” She could hardly restrain her sarcasm—or her sense of inadequacy.
“Ah, the golden-boy syndrome,” Jannie said knowingly.
“That about sums it up.”
“And you feel…what? Snubbed? Like you don’t measure up?”
Waves of insecurity swept over Meg, dating back to the first time she’d met the Harpers and realized no one would ever be good enough for Scott, at least in his mother’s mind. “Something like that.”
“Join the crowd, honey. But what these mamas don’t know is how happy we make their little boys, right?”
Happy? Meg controlled a snort. It was easier just to agree. Saying anything else would open the flood-gates of her emotions. “Oh, yes. What Mrs. Harper doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” The irony of her intentional double meaning brought her up short.
After setting another tennis date, Meg hung up, wondering what had happened to her sense of humor. “Mamas” and “little boys” once would’ve provoked a grin.
When she turned into the circular drive in front of the high-school gymnasium, she spotted Hayley and three other girls sitting on the concrete wall, their tanned legs swinging, talking to two young men wearing low-slung jeans and baggy shirts. Hayley hadn’t dated much, to Meg’s relief, but there was something in her expression, the high color in her cheeks, that made Meg suspect her daughter had more than a passing interest in one of these boys. Meg sighed. She wasn’t ready for the angst of teenage love. Especially with a kid who looked like a wannabe rap star.
Recognizing the car, Hayley hopped off the wall, waved at her friends and climbed in the front seat. “Who were those boys?” Meg asked as she pulled out from the school.
“Oh, just Zach Simon and some other guy in my biology class.”
“They looked like they were into you. What’s up?”
Hayley shrugged her shoulders. “There’s nothing to tell—”
Meg bought it until Hayley added, “Really.”
Acknowledging that her daughter probably wouldn’t welcome further inquiries, Meg dropped it. She glanced at the dash and realized she was speeding.
After several minutes of silence, Hayley turned to her. “When do Gramma and Grampa get here? I can’t wait to see them.”
“Not for about an hour.” Meg prayed that was true. She had too much to do in the meantime.
“Will Dad be home for dinner?”
Was Scott’s presence at the evening meal so rare that Hayley had to ask? “I certainly hope so. After all, your grandparents would be disappointed if he wasn’t.”
Meg thought she heard a catch in her daughter’s voice. “So would I.” Hayley’s mask of nonchalance slipped. In its place was—yearning?
Good Lord. How would Hayley react when she and Scott separated and she only saw her father on prearranged visits? If Scott took his role as a parent seriously.
Even as she formed that thought, she admitted it was unfair. Scott loved the kids. She’d never doubted that. But he loved his ad agency, too. And it was hard to compete with Harper Concepts. Especially when you were only fifteen.
“He’ll be there,” Meg said in a firm voice, as if emphasizing it would make it true. Hayley picked at the strap of her backpack but said nothing.
The sun was low in the sky when Meg turned onto their tree-lined street.
“What’s that thing?” Hayley asked, her tone of disgust unmistakable.
Meg followed Hayley’s gaze. There, parked in front of their third garage and taking up most of the length of their driveway, was a huge brown-and-beige motor home. Why, oh why, hadn’t there been a tie-up on the freeway, a rainstorm, anything to slow