“See? She hasn’t changed as much as you thought. She’s still the same old mom,” Shane told Dylan with a sly grin. “Always trying to feed somebody.”
“I’m supposed to. It’s in a mother’s job description,” she insisted, arranging cookies on a plate.
“Belly dancing isn’t,” Dylan said. “What’s up with that?” he asked, nodding toward the other room.
“Maddie suggested she teach us because it’s such great exercise.” She set the plate on the table in front of Dylan. “It’s low impact and it releases tension. And the best part is, it’s fun.”
“Then you’re only doing it to have fun?” Dylan asked.
“You don’t think anyone would pay to see us, do you?” she asked with a laugh, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“Then why the fancy costumes?” Dylan wanted to know.
“Maddie suggested we get them—to make it more fun. At first I was a bit shy about wearing something so exotic looking, but then I figured what the heck, why not try it? So I did and I liked it.”
“Mom’s tried a lot of new things lately,” Shane pointed out.
“I’ve noticed,” Dylan stared at her hair. “So tell me. Do blondes have more fun?”
She fluffed her curls with her fingers. “As a matter
of fact, I think they do. I probably should have done this years ago.”
“I liked you as a brunette,” Dylan told her.
“I did, too, but I wasn’t exactly a brunette anymore. Salt-and-pepper gray would be more accurate. People have told me I took ten years younger because of the highlighting.”
“Is that what you want? To look forty-two?” he asked.
“Thirty-two would be even better, but I’ll settle for forty-something,” she said with an impish grin. He must have frowned because her smile slid away. “You’re looking at me as if you don’t approve.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t approve; it was just that she didn’t look like his mother. She looked…well, young, for one thing. And so very different from the last time he’d seen her. Before he could say anything, Shane spoke up.
“I think you look great, Mom. And I won’t be offended if anyone asks if you’re my sister.” He gave her an affectionate wink.
She flapped her hand at him. “As if they would. It was a change I needed and it’s been a good one for me.” To Dylan she said, “You probably haven’t noticed, but I’ve lost weight since the last time you were here, too.”
“I noticed.”
As she sat down at the table she said, “Maddie’s the one who helped me shed the pounds.”
“Maddie knows about dieting, too, does she?” Dylan asked with a lift of one eyebrow.
“It’s not really about dieting, Dylan. It’s more
about living a healthy lifestyle,” his mother corrected him.
“And I suppose that Maddie knows all about that, too.”
She frowned. “Dylan, why that tone of voice? There’s no reason for you to be sarcastic regarding Maddie.”
“I’m not trying to be sarcastic, just asking questions,” he insisted, although he knew he was sounding churlish. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Ah, don’t mind me. I’m just tired. Maybe I should take my bags and go to bed. You want me to take the spare bedroom on this floor?”
“I’m going to put you in Jason’s room. The spare bedroom is now my office.”
“If you needed a office, why didn’t you just use Dad’s?”
“Because she didn’t want to use his,” Shane said, coming to his mother’s defense. “Mom has a right to remodel the house if she wants.”
“I’m not criticizing her for making changes to the house,” Dylan snapped at his brother.
“It sure sounds as if you were.”
Leonie held up a hand. “You two stop. There’s no need to raise your voices.”
Dylan could see by the set of his brother’s jaw that he wanted to continue their discussion, but the look on his mother’s face kept him silent.
Then she turned to Dylan. “You won’t be uncomfortable in Jason’s room, will you?”
“No, not at all,” he assured her. “I guess I didn’t
realize that you needed an office. I forgot that you were doing your column for the paper.”
“Yes, I am.” She cast a rather furtive glance at Shane, who apparently found it necessary to come to her defense once more.
“Mom’s not just writing a column. She has her own business,” he said.
“Business? What kind of business?”
Again her eyes darted to Shane, as if she were nervous and needing his reassurance. “You’re going to be surprised when I tell you.”
“Come on. I’ve just seen you belly dancing. You think I’m going to be shocked at you owning a business?” he asked dryly.
After one more glance at Shane, she said, “I’m a romance coach.”
Dylan nearly choked on his coffee. “A what?”
“A romance coach,” she repeated. “The column I write for the paper is an advice column on romance.”
“You mean people write to you about their problems with their love life?” Dylan thought his voice must have gone up an octave.
She nodded. “And I also teach classes on making relationships last.”
“Don’t forget about the one-on-one consulting,” Shane added.
Seeing his mother belly dancing was nothing compared to the astonishment Dylan felt at hearing this. “But…” he began, then stopped himself. His instinct had been to blurt out, “How can you give advice on romance after what happened in your own marriage?”
He knew, however, that he could never say those
words to her, because she didn’t know her husband had been unfaithful to her. Only Dylan had known. And it was a secret he would continue to keep even now, because to reveal it would mean shattering an illusion his mother still treasured—that his father had loved only her.
“How did all this come about?” he asked, trying not to sound disapproving.
“You know I’ve been renting out the rooms to the college girls since your father died?” When he nodded, she continued on, “Well, they would always come downstairs to eat and I’d listen to their problems. They’d ask my opinion on things and I’d give it. The next thing I knew, they were bringing their friends over and asking my advice about love. Questions such as, how did I manage to stay married for thirty years, how did I know when I was in love…those kinds of things.”
It was something he could see his mother doing. She’d always been a good listener and her kitchen had often been the gathering place for the neighborhood moms. How many times as a child had he heard the phrase, “You should ask Leonie.” Was it any wonder she was still answering questions? Only now they weren’t about getting out grass stains but mending broken hearts.
“So you went to the newspaper and suggested you write a column answering people’s questions about love?” he asked, still trying to figure out how it had all come about.
“Not without any training I didn’t.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Maddie suggested I take a writing
class. She helped me put together a sample of what the column would be like and then, bless her heart, she took it to a friend of hers at the newspaper.”
The ubiquitous Maddie. Dylan should have known she’d be behind this. “How did that lead to you having your own business?”
“Maddie suggested I branch out, you know, cover all the bases when it came to romance and relationships. So I began offering workshops and the next thing I knew, I was printing up business cards with the title ‘romance coach’ after my name.”
Again
Maddie.
Dylan took a deep breath to keep from making another sarcastic comment about the woman. Was there any aspect of his mother’s life in which she hadn’t interfered? Only it didn’t sound as if his mother saw it as interference.
“I never realized that running a business could be so exciting!”
From the glow on her cheeks, Dylan could see that it was a fulfilling career for her. He was about to tell her he was happy for her, but her next words kept him silent.
“What’s really special about this job is that it makes me feel close to your father. Whenever I have to answer a question about love and romance, I think of him and the love we shared.”
The love we shared.
Dylan knew she’d been happy with his father. That had never been something he’d questioned. What he didn’t know was if that love had been based on a lie. Would his mother’s feelings for his father be the same if she knew he’d cheated on her? Was she basing her career on a lie?
They were questions he knew he could never ask. He sighed, and his mother mistook the sound for fatigue.
She reached across the table and patted his hand. “You’ve had a long day. We’ll have lots of time to talk once you catch up on your sleep.”
Dylan gently rotated his neck. “Bed is going to feel good. I must have slept wrong on the plane because I’ve got a kink in my neck.”
“You should ask Maddie to give you a massage,” his mother suggested. “She’s got the right touch when it comes to soothing aching muscles.”
“Tell me, Mom, is there anything that Maddie doesn’t know?” he asked.
“I don’t know anything about living on a Caribbean island,” she said, entering the room. She gave him a flirtatious grin. “Maybe you could fill me in.” Then she placed a hand on Leonie’s shoulder and said, “We’re stopping for tonight. Do you want to come say goodbye?”
Leonie scraped back her chair. “I do. Thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem,” she said as left the room, the coins on her costume making a tinkling sound with every step she took.
Shane rose, too. “That means Jennifer and Mickey will be wanting to go.” He turned to Dylan. “You need any help with your luggage?”
Dylan shook his head. “No, I’m fine.”
His mother asked, “Are you going to bed then?”
“No, I’ll wait for you,” he said, knowing that he needed to talk to his mother alone. His reunion with
her hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, and he needed to smooth things over.
Only it wasn’t his mother who returned a few minutes later, but Maddie. She looked startled to see him, and he suspected that if she could have left without saying a word, she would have.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
“Just getting some water,” she told him, pulling a bottle from the refrigerator.
“Belly dancing makes you thirsty, does it?” He didn’t know why the words came out on a note of sarcasm. She’d neither said nor done anything to warrant it.
“If that’s the tone you used with your mother I can see why she’s upset,” she told him, then unscrewed the cap and took a long drink.
He let his eyes travel over her figure and felt something stir deep inside him. Now he knew the reason for the sarcasm. It was a self-defense mechanism. He was attracted to her and he didn’t want to be.
“Mom’s not upset.” He spoke the words with confidence, although he knew his reunion with his mother had had its share of tension. She’d wanted his approval and, instead of complimenting her on her new look, he’d put her on the defensive, asking questions with a critical eye rather than an understanding one. He wasn’t, however, going to admit that to this woman.
“Now why doesn’t it surprise me that you didn’t notice?” Maddie shoved a fist to her waist, which only caused Dylan’s eyes to focus on her flat stomach and the turquoise jewel in her navel. It was almost the same color as her eyes and seemed to wink at him.
He forced his eyes back to hers. “My relationship with my mother doesn’t concern you, although I’m sure you think it does.”
She stiffened, her chin lifting slightly. “Actually, I don’t, but I happen to care about your mom and I don’t like it when people hurt her.”
“People meaning me?” he asked in disbelief. “I didn’t come home to upset my mom.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’d like to think that we can get along while you’re here.”
Her attitude annoyed him. Who was she to stand there like some champion of the mistreated, looking at him as if it were her duty to protect his mother from him?
He was about to tell her that
if
they were going to get along, she was going to have to get rid of that attitude. Only his mother chose that moment to return.
“So here’s where you disappeared to,” she said to Maddie. “Are you and Dylan reacquainting yourselves?” She looked from one to the other.
“Yes, I was just telling Dylan how fond I am of you.” She put her arm around his mother and gave her a squeeze. “He’s lucky to have you for a mom.”
“Thank you, Maddie. I do believe I’m quite lucky to have him for a son, too,” she responded, giving Dylan an affectionate glance.
Only he saw the look in Maddie’s eyes. It told him there wasn’t even a slim chance she shared that sentiment.
“Well, I’m off to bed,” Maddie announced, then she turned to Dylan. “Hope the cold doesn’t get to you.” It was said in a cheerful way, but he knew there
was a hidden message. She wasn’t going to spread any warmth his way.
“I’m sure I’ll survive. You forget. I lived here eighteen years. This is my home.”
“Yes, it is,” his mother agreed happily.
As Maddie passed him on the way out, she said in a voice meant only for his ears, “And we all know that home is the place that has to take you in.”
M
ADDIE LAY ON HER BED
flipping through the glossy pages of the latest edition of a gourmet food magazine. Not even the lure of scrumptious desserts smothered in chocolate could take her mind off what had happened this evening. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t put Dylan Donovan out of her mind.
She wished she hadn’t confronted him in the kitchen. He was right about one thing: his relationship with his mother wasn’t any of her concern. Still, she’d grown very fond of Leonie and it had seemed natural to come to her defense.
Despite Dylan’s claim that he hadn’t intended to upset his mother, Maddie knew that whatever they’d discussed in the kitchen had taken the sparkle out of Leonie’s eyes. It didn’t take a psychologist to know that the joyful reunion her landlady had hoped to have with her son hadn’t materialized.
Maddie didn’t understand why it hadn’t. As hard as she tried not to be curious about their relationship, she couldn’t help but wonder what had caused Dylan to become the stray sheep of the family.
She supposed it could be his personality. He wasn’t exactly the easiest man to get along with. She resented
his implication that she had somehow stuck her nose into business that didn’t concern her—as if being a friend to Leonie was a devious plan on her part. If Leonie hadn’t come into the kitchen when she had, Maddie might just have set him straight on the subject.