Chapter Eight #2
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she probably should have reminded him not to do stuff like that. But she didn’t. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We’ll work it out.”
She looked up at him again, and they shared a smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you a lot.”
“I missed you, too.”
“So we’re really okay now?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed her shoulder. “We’re good. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Still friends, then, no matter what?”
“Yeah, Riley Jane. Friends no matter what.”
* * *
“We need to talk,” said Annette the following Monday. She was standing in the open doorway to Riley’s office.
“Sure,” Riley replied. She gestured Annette forward. “Come on in and shut the door.”
Face flushed, breathing hard, Annette stepped over the threshold, pushed the door closed and then leaned back against it as though she expected someone on the other side to try to kick it down.
“What’s going on?” Riley got up and went to her. “Annette, are you all right?”
Annette tossed her head. “No, Riley. I am not all right.”
Riley took her arm. “Come on. Let’s sit down.” Annette allowed Riley to pull her over to the small sitting area in the corner. When they got there, Riley took her by the shoulders and gently guided her down onto the love seat there. “Take a slow, deep breath. Coffee?”
“Yes, please…” At the single-serve coffee press she kept in a nook near the door, Riley brewed Annette a cup and carried it back to her.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Annette said.
Riley set the cup on the coffee table, then took the chair across from her mother-in-law. “Now, talk to me.”
Annette sipped her coffee. “I’m ridiculous,” she said mournfully as she set the cup down again.
“No way. Never.”
Annette folded her arms across her chest and sank back against the cushions with a sad little sigh. “I am. It’s a fact.”
Riley sat forward. “Just tell me what’s happened?”
“You’ll laugh…”
“Annette. You’re upset. That matters to me. Whatever’s on your mind, I’m not going to laugh at you. Now, talk.”
Annette picked up her cup—and then set it back down again. “Okay, fine. It’s about Miles.”
“What did he do?”
“Miles? He did nothing wrong—nothing at all. As I said, it’s me. I’m the one with the problem.”
“And the problem is…?”
“Well, I mean, he’s been great. He added the shelving to the backbar.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is. His work is always exactly right. And now, whenever he comes in, he’s cordial and friendly without ever bringing up that time he tried to ask me out…”
“And that’s what you asked him for, right? You said that him asking you out never happened and you never wanted to speak of it again.”
“Yes. That is essentially what I said to him. And since then, I’ve felt that we’ve become friends in a casual, completely platonic sort of way.”
“Which is what you hoped for…”
“That’s right. He’s a perfect gentleman, kind and so easy to talk to.” Annette took a sip of her coffee and set the cup down with care. “So then as you know I asked him to design a new hostess station…”
“And that turned out beautifully,” said Riley.
“It did. It’s perfect. And I’ve been thinking of a few other accent pieces he might create for us. His work really elevates the look of the bar.”
“So then everything is going well.”
“Yes,” Annette replied unhappily. With a delicate sniffle, she glanced away.
“But, Annette, if all is well, then why are you trying so hard not to cry?”
“It’s Irene.” Annette scowled into the middle distance.
They’d hired Irene Clary when they decided to open the bar in the daytime. She worked Monday through Friday from 11:00 a.m. to six in the evening.
“Wait a minute.” Riley didn’t get it. In her midforties, Irene was capable, attractive and always on the ball. Riley and Annette agreed that the new bartender definitely knew her stuff. “There’s a problem with Irene now? We talked about her. You said she’s terrific.”
“Of course she’s terrific,” Annette grumbled. “She’s also younger than I am and so…relaxed and easy to talk to.”
“And that is somehow a bad thing?”
“I never said it’s bad. Miles seems to think she’s great, that’s for certain. Every time he comes in I find them chatting together like long-lost friends.” Annette’s lower lip was quivering now.
“Hey…” Riley got up and sat on the love seat next to Annette. “Come here.” She wrapped an arm around Annette and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You really are upset about this, aren’t you?”
“Oh, Riley,” Annette moaned. “I think he just might ask her out—and that’s perfectly fine, isn’t it? Why shouldn’t he ask her out? They’re both single and the right age for each other.”
Riley rubbed Annette’s shoulder and suggested softly, “Miles really likes you. You know that.”
“Well. He seems to like Irene just fine, too, and I…” Her words trickled away into silence.
“What? Say it. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking there is no reason at all that Miles and Irene shouldn’t go out together. They would make a lovely couple. They might even…” Again she seemed to lack the will to go on.
Riley gave her a nudge. “They might even, what, Annette? Tell me.”
“Oh, never mind.” Annette rested her head on Riley’s shoulder. “I don’t know what is wrong with me. I honestly don’t. But I find that it’s suddenly crystal clear to me that Miles will someday find someone who will say yes when he asks her to dinner at Arlington’s.”
“And that bothers you?”
Annette surprised her with an honest answer. “Yes. It does bother me. Lately, I find I have all these feelings, and I hardly know what to do with them.”
Riley thought of Josh then. “I get that. I do.” Boy, did she ever. Lately, she thought about Josh constantly—and not just in their agreed-on friends-only, co-parenting way. Not even in their former just-for-now-lovers way.
Now, she thought of him with longing for something she was never going to have with him.
But all that would pass, she constantly reminded herself. Over time, all these unwelcome feelings for Josh would fade. Their friendship, though. That would last. And that was what mattered.
Losing TJ had broken her. She simply could not go there again. But Annette was a whole different story. Annette had somehow gotten stuck in some murky past era when a respectable widow would never dare to step out with a new man.
“Annette?”
“Hmm?”
“I have a suggestion. Ask Miles if the invitation to dinner is still open.”
With a gasp, Annette lifted her head from Riley’s shoulder and flashed her a look of complete disbelief. “I could never do that.”
“Sure, you could.”
“Riley, I already said no.”
“So? Now say yes.”
“I just… Well, I…”
“Well, you, what?”
“I haven’t been out with a man since Trevor Senior passed.”
“I realize that. But you do like Miles. And he likes you. It’s about time you gave yourself permission to have a little fun. You have every right to enjoy the company of a man you really like, a man you’re attracted to.”
“Attracted?” Annette replied sharply. “I never said I was attracted to Miles.”
“You didn’t have to say it.”
“Oh, no!” Annette groaned at the ceiling. “I’m that obvious?”
Riley patted her hand. “Only to me, I’m sure.”
“Humph. Well. Maybe you’re right.”
“You’d better believe I’m right.”
“But, Riley, there’s another problem.”
“Tell me.”
“Miles is fifty-two. I’m fifty-eight. I could never go out with a younger man.”
“Annette. It’s six years. Six years is nothing—especially the older you get.”
Annette pouted. “Was that an insult?”
“Of course not. It’s a simple fact. Ask him out.”
Annette threw up both hands and cried, “You don’t understand!”
Riley stood and pulled her up into a hug. When Annette hugged her back, she whispered, “Just consider the idea. That’s all I’m suggesting. Just give it some thought.”
“It’s impossible—but thank you, Riley. For listening to my ridiculous…problems.”
“Your problems are not in the least ridiculous. Think about it. Please.”
“I’ll just…”
“You’ll what?”
“Oh, nothing.” Annette put on a slightly wobbly smile. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”
“I’m here. You know that.”
“Of course you are. And I love you for it.”
They left it at that. Riley assumed that her mother-in-law would take weeks to decide whether or not to make a move.
* * *
Wrong. That evening as Riley came down the stairs after tucking Dillon in bed, there was a knock at the door.
It was Annette. “Is Dillon in bed?”
“I just tucked him in. If you want to see him, go on up and—”
“Hmm. Better not. Let him sleep. I’m here to see you, as a matter of fact.”
Riley stepped back. “Want something to drink?”
“No, sweetie. Not a thing.”
They headed for the living area where both of them sat on the sofa, kicked off their shoes and drew their legs up to the side.
Riley studied her mother-in-law’s face. “You are literally glowing. What’s going on?”
Annette preened. “Really? I’m glowing?”
“Oh yeah. You look amazing. Something good must have happened.”
“You’re right. Because I did it.”
Riley blinked. “You…talked to Miles?”
“Oh yes, I did. I called him an hour ago, just picked up my phone, brought up his contact and punched that little phone thingy.”
Riley clapped her hands. “Go you! What happened?”
“He answered on the first ring.”
“That’s a good sign.”
“Yes.” Annette granted Riley a prim little smile. “I thought so, too.”
“What did you say?”
Annette’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. “I was suddenly as flustered as a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.”
“No way, not you.”
“Oh yes, I was. I just started babbling, stumbling all over myself, never completing a single sentence. I was ridiculous.”
“Not you, Annette. Never.”