For a blissful moment she gave in to a flood of memories, allowing them to transport her back through happy scenes of her childhood—all those special Christmas mornings with Mom and Dad and Hart. She tilted her head and opened her mouth, catching snowflakes and savoring their quickly vanishing tingle on her tongue. At that brief moment, she felt giddy, light, free—
“Mom, what are you doing?”
At the sound of Lissa's voice, Natalie jerked around, the blissful memories dissipating like smoke on the breeze. It took a moment before her vision cleared enough to see Lissa standing at the end of the sidewalk. Daniel waited just behind her, a stupid half-grin on his face.
Natalie's cheeks flamed. “I … I … What are you doing here?”
Daniel's grin changed to a look of confusion. “You weren't expecting us? Tomorrow
is
your Sunday to spend with Lissa—or do I have my weekends mixed up?”
Guilt tore through Natalie's chest like an ice cube swallowed whole. “Oh, Lissa, I was so busy at work that I completely forgot.”
Her daughter's expression crumbled. “Let's go, Dad.” She spun around and stomped toward Daniel's Bronco. “I told you Mom didn't really want me over this weekend.”
“Wait.” Natalie took mincing steps toward her daughter. “Lissa, it's not what you think. It's been a terrible week. Our plans just slipped my mind, that's all.” She cast Lissa a pleading look. “And after the way things ended yesterday, I … well … I wasn't sure you'd even be speaking to me.”
“It's always about you, isn't it?” Lissa lifted her chin, and Natalie could see how hard she worked to keep it from trembling. “Don't you think Dad has a life too? He might have a
date
or something tomorrow and need me out of his hair.”
Daniel looked askance at his daughter and chuckled nervously. “She's kidding, of course. Seriously, if the timing is bad, we can reschedule for next weekend.”
“No, please, it's okay.” How had Natalie grown so busy and preoccupied that weekends with Lissa could be forgotten so easily? This was her
daughter
, for crying out loud. She stepped close enough to lay a hand on Lissa's crossed arms. “Honey, please stay. I was just going to make myself some supper. We can—” Glancing at her small bag of groceries, she realized she didn't have enough for two. She shifted the bag to her other arm. “Hey, you don't want to eat my cooking anyway. Why don't we go out for pizza or burgers or something?”
Lissa hesitated. Her eyes narrowed. “Dad too?”
Daniel shuffled his feet. “Uh, Lissa, I don't think that's fair to your mom.”
Natalie bit down her sudden apprehension. She wouldn't for anything add another brick to the already monstrous wall between her and Lissa. “No, it's okay. We can all go together, if that's what you want.” She hoped the darkness hid the tremor that rippled through her. “Just give me a minute to put these things in the fridge.”
She rushed upstairs to her apartment, nearly dropping the keys in her fumbling attempt to get the door open. Kicking it closed behind her, she stood in the small entryway for three full seconds trying to figure out a way out of this mess. She took several slow breaths.
Just dinner. Right?
She shoved the whole grocery bag into the freezer and scurried to the bathroom for a quick check of her makeup. A dab of powder to cut the shine on her nose, a coat of lipstick on her winter-chapped lips, a futile attempt to refresh her wilted hairstyle.
She stopped, suddenly, and frowned at her reflection. “Get a grip, woman. This is
not
a date. You don't have to impress anyone.”
With a shudder, she grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter and started downstairs. In the parking lot, Daniel had warmed up the aging Bronco. Lissa sat in the back seat.
“Where to?” Daniel asked as Natalie took the front passenger seat. He looked as nervous as she felt.
She chewed her lip. Sitting this close to him, how was she supposed to concentrate on anything except maintaining her equilibrium? She could feel the squeak forming in her voice before she even opened her mouth. “Anything's fine. You choose.”
Daniel drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “There's the Saigon Buffet, or we could try that new place in Putnam— Madge's something-or-other.”
“Madge's Taste of Home.” Brightly lit. Quick service. Natalie jumped on the idea like a frog on a bug. “I heard it's pretty good. Let's go.”
“Hey, wait.” Lissa leaned between the seats. “I feel like Italian, don't you guys? Let's go to Adamo's.”
“But, Liss,” Daniel said, glancing over his shoulder, “you and I just ate there last—”
“Oh, so what? It's my favorite restaurant. What do you say, Mom?”
Natalie felt the blood drain from her face, while Lissa fairly glowed with anticipation. Adamo's, a small, family-owned restaurant halfway between Fawn Ridge and Putnam, used to be Natalie and Daniel's favorite spot … and no secret to their scheming daughter.
Daniel faced forward and shrugged. “It's up to you, Natalie.”
“Well, if Lissa has her heart set on it.”
After all, it was just dinner.
Just dinner—
that would be her mantra for the rest of the evening.
But sitting so close to Daniel again, she found herself engulfed by memories and had to suppress a shiver. Her glance took in the strong lines of his profile. Her nostrils filled with the achingly familiar smell of his favorite suede jacket. Unwillingly, she let her gaze drift to his sturdy right hand as it rested on the gear shift. How small a reach it would be to touch him, to rest her head against his shoulder, to breathe in the masculine scent of his cologne.
Oh, Daniel …
Suppressing a moan, she looked away. It was over between them. As much as she wanted things to be different, she had to face the truth. Her life remained in shambles, and until— if ever—she found her way back to wholeness, she was sure to bring only pain to the people she loved. Wedding vows or not, God couldn't possibly want them to hang on when all they did was hurt each other. Wouldn't it be better in the long run for Daniel to move on? Better for Lissa if her parents kept their distance from each other? Why should their problems wound her more than they had already?
Natalie tucked clenched fists firmly in her lap. She'd agreed to this “family” dinner far too hurriedly.
Lissa, sweetheart, please don't get the wrong idea.
But the starry-eyed look she'd glimpsed in her daughter's eyes told her it was already too late. The best Natalie could hope for now was to remain pleasant but detached. Surely, Daniel would cooperate and not feed Lissa's fantasies. Later, when they could arrange some time alone, they'd have a serious discussion about how best to help their daughter accept the inevitable.
But all the rational thinking in the world could not prepare Natalie for the barrage of emotions that hit her the moment they stepped inside Adamo's. The romantic ambience enveloped her with all the subtlety of a sentimental Valentine's Day card. If not for the promises she had just made to herself on the drive over, she could almost believe the whole last year had never happened.
A mustachioed host recognized them immediately. With frequent nods and bows, he cheerily escorted them through the dining room. Weaving through the tables, they passed several acquaintances—Pastor Mayer and his family, Maeve Lindon from the bakery, even Alan, the speed-demon delivery driver from the print shop, who had a curly-haired blonde snuggled next to him in a shadowy booth. Considering the rural community they lived in, Natalie shouldn't have been surprised to run into people she knew, but it was one more thing she'd failed to take into account. She pasted on her most nonchalant smile and tried to ignore both their questioning stares and the nervous embarrassment curdling her stomach. She could only imagine the rumors that would fly around church tomorrow … and the office on Monday.
At a small table in a quiet corner, the host pulled out a chair for her, while Daniel played the gentleman for Lissa. A shaft of moonlight angled through the beveled-glass windows and mingled with the yellow-white glow of a small oil lamp in the center of the immaculate tablecloth.
“Your menus.” With dramatic flourish, their server flipped open burgundy leather folders in front of each of them. “We also have a special tonight, Chef Valerio's rigatoni Siciliani, a sumptuous blend of shrimp, calamari, and crab in a savory marinara sauce. May I bring you something to drink while you decide?”
Natalie eyed the wine list, sorely tempted. “Just water for me, please. Lissa, do you want a soft drink?”
Lissa ordered a lemon-lime soda, and Daniel asked for a glass of iced tea. When the server returned with their drinks, Natalie still hadn't decided what to have. Everything here tasted wonderful. Remembering what she'd just stuffed into her freezer at home, she stifled a laugh. Frozen lasagna and prepackaged key lime pie—
pampering? Get a life, Natalie!
“Have you made your selection, miss?” The server angled his raven head toward Lissa and shot her a rakish grin. Only then did Natalie take note of his youthful good looks. The kid couldn't be much more than twenty.
Yikes.
With Lissa's hair clipped up behind one ear and dipping glamorously across the other eye—and especially in this lighting—she could easily pass for sixteen or even older.
“I'd like the manicotti.” Lissa smiled at the server, a flirtatious sparkle in her eye. “With a small Greek salad and your crusty garlic bread.”
Natalie tightened her grip on the menu and resisted the urge to kick her daughter in the shin. Add one more item to the long list of issues she already needed to cover with Daniel:
No dating for Lissa until she graduates from college!
When the server finally tore his Valentino eyes off Lissa and turned to Natalie, she was still too flustered to think straight. She cleared her throat and buried her face in the menu. “You go ahead, Daniel.”
He went with the chef's special, and Natalie finally settled on the lasagna Fabiana, a uniquely delicious creation by the restaurant owner's wife. That bland brick of Lean Cuisine could wait. Adamo's lasagna beat the frozen stuff by light-years.
“Excellent choices.” The server gave Natalie a curt nod before angling another seductive gaze at Lissa. “I will return with your salads shortly.”
Daniel lifted his tea glass and smiled at Natalie. “This was a good idea. Better than hamburgers, that's for sure.” The tension around his eyes belied the light tone of his voice.
The business of ordering taken care of, Natalie found herself struggling to maintain her composure. It was hard enough making eye contact with the man across the table. Instead, she fiddled with the ornately folded napkin propped in the center of her place setting. “Haven't been here in ages, at least not for a meal.”
“Lissa and I have come a few times.” Daniel cleared his throat. He glanced around and toyed with his salad fork. “Not often, though.”
“I helped design their new menus.” The bright, boastful tone in Natalie's voice surprised her. She certainly hadn't intended to brag about it … just couldn't think of anything else to say.
“Really?” Daniel's attention returned to her, his eyes softening. “I'll have to take a closer look at one before we leave.”
“Mom did a super job.” A Cheshire-cat grin lit Lissa's face. “She is the most amazing graphic artist.”
Daniel smiled across the table. “Indeed she is.”
Natalie lowered her gaze as heat shot through her chest. It came as a shock that Lissa even knew of the work she'd done for Adamo's. Perhaps her daughter hadn't drifted as far out of touch as she feared. She had to find a way to spend more time with her—certainly after the holiday rush passed. And she'd have to reconsider inviting Lissa out to ride. Maybe tomorrow she could talk her into it.
An awkward silence ensued until their salads arrived. Natalie ate hers slowly and deliberately, hoping to forestall further conversation. It helped that Daniel didn't show much interest in talking either, which surprised her because he usually had plenty to say about the way she ran her life.
Okay, okay, she had to admit she'd done her fair share of ragging on him. Maybe the silence was a good sign, an indication they were both ready to cool it and start a new phase of their relationship. It would be so much easier if the end of their marriage didn't result in the permanent loss of the lively friendship they once treasured.
After dinner, feeling mellow and more content than she had in months, Natalie pushed away from the table and released a satisfied moan. “My goodness, I'm stuffed.”