Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Cordelia
If I had my way, I would have been long gone.
But then Gordie appeared, and there was no hope of escape.
Since I’m stuck here tonight, I’ll find out what Mom’s plan is, so I can stop it and return to my peaceful life in Lucky Falls, far away from the shadows of the life I used to have.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Mom says at the end of the tour. “I made arrangements to eat on the back porch under the stars.”
Gordie squeals as if Mom promised her a brand new Hello Kitty scooter.
“Do you like that?” Mom asks, putting her hand on Gordie’s head.
The little girl briskly nods. Tonight, she’s dressed in a pink Hello Kitty T-shirt, jeans beneath a pink tutu, and sparkly yellow sneakers. The ensemble wouldn’t work on anyone but her.
“This way.” Mom gestures for Brenda and Gordie to head outside first. “Delia, would you help me bring out the plates?”
I sigh heavily and reroute to the kitchen.
To my surprise, I hear Renthrow’s heavy footsteps too. “I’ll help.”
“Viking, you’re our guest. You don’t have to do that. Mills put the drinks and a charcuterie board outside already. You can snack while we handle things in here.”
“It’s no problem, ma’am.” Renthrow’s smile is polite but firm. He’s not going anywhere.
“Well, alright then. Let’s see… What should we take out first? Do you think that pot is too heavy?”
Renthrow undoes the button at his cuff and rolls up his sleeves, revealing brawny, masculine arms with thick veins bulging beneath the skin.
I feel a little drool forming at the corner of my mouth.
Mom’s attention is also arrested there. “Hockey players work out a lot, don’t they?”
“About as much as any other athlete.”
Mom blinks distractedly and studies Renthrow’s face. “You’re very handsome, young man.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Are you single?”
“Mooom.” I groan.
“No, ma’am.” He balances the pans of roasted duck, potatoes, and steamed broccoli that Mom piles on him.
“That’s disappointing. Who’s the lucky lady?” Mom pushes over a basket of bread to me.
Renthrow intercepts it, and his lips curl up in a sultry grin as he looks my way. “Someone who came all the way to Lucky Falls just to find me and my daughter.”
Mom’s eyebrows climb. Good. Renthrow’s answer is perfect evidence that me leaving my old life had nothing to do with Gwen.
I clear my throat and reach for the bread. “I can carry that.”
“Ah-ah.” He steps back. “I’ve got it.”
“It’s just bread, Renthrow. It’s not that heavy.” I make another halfhearted attempt for the basket.
Like the professional athlete that he is, Renthrow sidesteps me and then leans down to whisper in my ear, “I’ll handle this. If you feel particularly touched, you can thank me later.”
He backs up with a smirk as his eyes roam to my lips. It’s enough to send a blush streaking across my face.
“Ahem.” Mom clears her throat when Renthrow is out the door. “So he’s the one, huh?”
“He’s the one,” I say.
Mom’s grin stretches from one ear to the next.
“But we haven’t told Gordie yet. I’d like it if you kept it that way.”
“Honey, that’s fantastic. He seems like such a good man. And his mom is so lovely.”
“Speaking of, how do you know Renthrow’s mom?”
“We…have mutual connections.” Mom opens the wine bar beneath the cupboard. “Can you take this out? I promised Brenda I’d show her something even better than rosé tonight.”
I accept the drink, my internal alarm bells clanging. “What connections?”
“Cordelia, can you take the corn as well?”
I stare Mom down.
“Go, go.” Mom steers me outside.
My instincts are screaming that the connection with Brenda is worth investigating.
Mom’s friends are all jet-setting entrepreneurs who spend their time balancing their companies, nipping and tucking every wrinkle that appears, and chasing after their cheating husbands.
There’s no way Brenda runs in the same circles. No way anyone in Lucky Falls does.
When I step outside, Gordie pops to her feet. “Delia, sit with me!”
I force a smile onto my face and walk toward her. Renthrow is headed to the kitchen at the same time, and there’s not enough space for us both to pass.
Instinctively, I step back, so he can go first. But he puts his hands on my waist and brings me close, twisting us around almost in a dance, so we exchange places.
His eyes burrow into me, and his fingers burn through my black tank top to my stomach as he drifts his hand away and continues walking to the kitchen.
I remain in place, shocked and slightly hyperventilating.
Viking Renthrow presents himself as a reserved gentleman. But the way he puts his hands on me is the very opposite of respectable.
“Delia, over here!” Gordie insists.
I stumble to her and sit on the bench.
“Look.” She points at the sky. “There’s the big bear, and there’s the little bear.”
I look up. The stars are shining brilliantly, demanding to be seen and appreciated.
Scrunching my nose, I admit, “That doesn’t look like a bear to me.”
Gordie traces lines in the air. “It goes down and then to the side like this. It’s a bear, silly!”
“O-oh. Yeah. I mean, yeah…I see it now.” I squint.
“There’s going to be a meteor shower soon. Do you want to watch with me and Daddy?”
“How exciting!” Mom plops two plates down on the table. “Why don’t you come out here to watch it? We can have a meteor shower party.”
“Can we?” Gordie’s eyes practically turn into stars.
Renthrow returns to the porch then, and I give him a panicked look and a slight shake of my head.
“We already have a camping site in mind,” he tells Mom smoothly.
“You can camp out here while still being close to civilization,” Mom presses, hardly one to take no for an answer. “Gordie would love it.”
Gordie bobs her head enthusiastically.
“I appreciate that, but our plans are already set in stone,” Renthrow says.
“Very well, but the invitation is always there.” Mom backs off, and I want to kiss Renthrow in that moment more than I ever have.
Renthrow sits next to me.
Pleased, I hook our pinkies together under the table. His expression shifts subtly when I touch him, and he looks over at me.
I smile.
He smiles back.
I notice Mom watching us and withdraw my hand. “I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
Renthrow shares out a plate for Gordie.
“Daddy, I don’t want to eat broccoli,” Gordie complains when she sees her dad spooning out a big hill of vegetables.
“No broccoli, no dessert.”
I snag the plate from Renthrow. “How about I share half of the broccoli? Would that still qualify us for dessert?”
“Yeah, I’ll eat half, and Delia will eat half.”
“Gordie…” Renthrow begins in a scolding tone.
I notice Gordie widening her eyes and pushing out her bottom lip, so I do the same. Two is better than one, right?
Renthrow’s lips twitch. “You ladies drive a hard bargain.”
“That sounds like a yes.” I high-five Gordie. “Let’s eat the vegetables first so your dad can’t change his mind.”
“Okay!” Gordie proceeds to stuff her mouth with veggies.
Renthrow’s lips curl up at the corner, and he mouths, “Thank you.”
I tilt my head in response.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Brenda and Mom exchanging excited looks.
“What’s so funny?” I ask the women.
Mom shares out her pasta. “It’s not funny. It’s just…Delia, I’ve never seen you be that gentle with anyone.” She clips the roasted duck with a pair of tongs. “Renthrow, you should have seen her in the past. She was the moodiest, grumpiest little thing.”
My shoulders stiffen.
“If she wasn’t working on that death-trap of a bike, she was holed up in her room for days at a time. Sometimes, I wouldn’t see her for a week! And then, when she did emerge for air, if anyone dared breathe on her, she’d tear their heads off.”
My nostrils flare and I frown.
But Mom doesn’t notice.
She never does.
“Do you know what our nickname was for her?” Mom laughs. “It was Gremlin.”
I set my fork aside, struggling to keep a tight rein on my expression.
“At one point, I wondered what would become of her. Thank goodness I convinced her to go to college and focus all that aggression into a business degree. I genuinely don’t know what she would have ended up doing with her life.”
My heart pounds against my ribs.
Renthrow turns to me, and his eyes fill with concern. Beneath the table, his hand finds mine, and I hold onto him, fighting to remain calm.
Brenda chuckles awkwardly. “My mother used to say that I wouldn’t understand all she went through raising us until I had kids of my own. And it’s true. I think having kids is just payback for what our parents endured.”
“Oh, that’s not always the case. Some kids are…” Mom’s eyes turn glassy. “Well, they’re gifts. Pure and simple. They’re much better than I ever was to my parents anyway.”
I drop my chin to my chest and struggle to breathe. The “angel” Mom’s gushing about is not me. It never was.
Renthrow squeezes my hand tightly as if to say, I’m here. You’re okay.
I hold onto him for dear life.
“Anyway”—Mom sniffs—“what matters is having healthy children and doing our best, right?”
Brenda nods. “That’s right.”
“So, Gordie”—Mom grins across the table at the little girl—“you’re so pretty. Have you ever considered going into pageantry?”
My back zings as straight as an arrow.
“What’s that?” Gordie asks, licking her spoon.
“Oh, it’s a delightful place where you get to dress really pretty and make lots of new friends and learn about different places.”
“That sounds cool,” Gordie says.
“Doesn’t it?” Mom’s eyes narrow to slits as she smiles. “Renthrow, if you don’t mind, I have many contacts in the pageantry space. And I’ve learned that it’s better if you start them young, so they develop a system for balancing school and competitions—”
“Why would you force a six-year-old into pageantry, Mom?” I grind out.
The entire table falls silent.
Mom’s mouth opens and closes. She sends me a perturbed look before saying politely, “I’m not trying to force anyone. I’m just bringing it up.”
“Gordie’s been talking about stars nonstop since she got here. What part of that says she wants to model in tiaras?”
“Well, you can like the stars and pageants. I don’t expect you to understand.” Mom turns away from me and starts talking to the rest of the table. “It’s a terrible misunderstanding that pageantry is just for showing off your face and body. It’s also about empowering women and girls to—”
“She likes cars and motorcycles too,” I add, forcing her attention back to me. “She’s not some doll to dress up and parade around. She’s not your do-over.”
Mom’s jaw drops.
My bottom lip quivers. I let go of Renthrow and push my chair back. “I need to use the bathroom.”