“You sure know how to hurt a guy. Guess I don’t have to wait to see you to ‘take it on the chin,’ do I!”
Odd. He sounded serious. But how could that be, when she’d intended her remark as a joking reminder. Since Lily always tagged along with her older sisters and their friends, she’d frequently been their I-told-you-so target. Once, when a particularly humiliating comment put tears in her eyes, Max had slung an arm over her shoulders. “Aw, don’t take ’em seriously,” he’d said. “They don’t mean anything by it. They’re just practicing for when they’re parents themselves one day.”
“But I’m almost thirteen,” she’d cried, “not that much younger than the rest of you!”
She remembered the peculiar look that had crossed his face. “Six years,” he’d said, his voice trembling slightly as he withdrew his arm. “More than enough to make a guy—”
A cheerleader ran up and hugged him just then, preventing him from finishing the sentence. It was such a common occurrence—girls throwing themselves at him—that Lily didn’t give it another thought. Until now.
“I’m not that much younger than you,” she said, returning to their present conversation. Hopefully, he’d remember the scene from their past, too, and finish his sentence this time.
“Well, guess I’ll let you go. I promised Mom I’d open the diner in the morning. Five o’clock rolls around faster than I’d like to admit.”
“You slept late when you were a corporate big shot, eh?” she teased.
“Not really. Most days, I was up by six, out of the house by seven. Until—” He cleared his throat. “Slept later once it was my job to get Nate ready for the sitter.”
Which used to be his wife’s job, Lily surmised.
“So, you’ll be on duty at lunchtime?”
“Yeah,” Max said. “Why?”
“Cammi and I are meeting at the diner at noon.” She told him about having to pick up her maid of honor dress and get it altered for Cammi’s upcoming wedding—a stall tactic, because hadn’t Max said he’d called for two reasons?
“Cool. Guess I’ll see you then, then.”
How long since she’d heard him say “then, then”? Lily wondered. Too long. And she’d missed it. Missed everything about him, from that way he had of bobbing his head when listening to others, to the way he looked deep into a person’s eyes when he was the one doing the talking. She missed the delight he seemed to get from little things, like helping someone by picking up a dropped book or holding open a door. If schoolmates seemed down in the dumps, his antics were sure to raise their spirits. And then there were the adorable dimples that formed beside his sexy half grin.
“Yeah.” I’ll see you then, then, she added silently.
“If you’re lucky, I’ll pay for your dessert.”
If she was truly lucky, he’d pay her a little one-on-one attention!
“What was the other thing you called about?”
“Other thing?”
“You said…” She didn’t want to remind him of the apology; in her opinion, his discomfort had caused him to squirm long enough. “Never mind,” she said, hoping the disappointment didn’t ring too loudly in her voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Who was that?” her dad asked when she hung up the phone.
“Max Sheridan.” And now that she had a moment to think about it, had he been flirting with that “pay for dessert” comment? Don’t be silly, Lily.
“Sherman Tank Sheridan?” Lamont whistled. “Man, could that boy throw a pass! If the Cowboys could get a couple guys like that on the team…” Her dad went silent and met Lily’s eyes. “What’s he doing calling you?”
The flirtation question died a quick death when she realized her dad was right; why would the handsome, former star quarterback be interested in Lily London? She bent to kiss her father good-night. Still, it sure sounded like Max had been flirting.
Lily couldn’t concentrate on an answer. Not while looking at her father’s puzzled expression. “Bacon and eggs in the morning?” she asked, heading for the stairs.
“Mmm,” he grunted, flapping his newspaper. “Girls,” he muttered. “Never could understand ’em.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d heard him say that. And with four daughters born in quick succession, he’d likely say it ’til he drew his last breath.
Maybe someday she’d tell her father what had come to mind every time he’d said it:
Boys are just as confusing!
“I understand congratulations are in order,” Max said, when Cammi joined her sister in the booth. “When’s the big day?”
“Three weeks from today. If I’d known you’d be in town, I would have sent you an invitation.”
As they chatted, Lily sat back, smiling and thinking that Cammi had been looking particularly beautiful these days. She’d always been one of the prettiest girls in town, but since Reid had come along, she practically glowed. Thank you, Lord, she prayed, for sending him into her life. What were the chances He’d send a man like that into Lily’s life?
Cammi dug around in her purse, pulled out an invitation. “This came in today’s mail. One of Dad’s friends can’t make it.” She handed the tiny envelope to Max. “Why don’t you come in their place, and bring your little boy!”
Lily’s heart thumped so hard, she thought surely anyone in earshot could hear it. Don’t take it, Max, she prayed. Don’t take it. She didn’t want him there. Because Cammi had hired a band to play forties music, and he’d always loved to dance. Lily didn’t want to watch him move across the floor with another woman in his arms!
“Your mom already RSVP’d,” Cammi was saying, “so I’ll rearrange the tables so the three of you can sit together.”
Max tucked the invitation into his shirt pocket. “Thanks. Maybe Nate’ll meet some kids his own age, ’cause it looks like we’ll be staying in Amarillo longer than we thought.”
Cammi frowned. “I heard about your mom’s leg. What a shame.” She brightened to add, “But she’s on every prayer list in Texas, so she’ll come out of it better than new.” As an aside, she said, “Besides, the way I hear it, her surgeon has more reason than most to succeed.”
Max’s expression darkened, and Lily wondered if it was because he didn’t approve of his mom’s relationship with her doctor, or because Cammi had mentioned prayer. The latter, probably, she decided, remembering what Georgia had said about his faith crisis.
“I didn’t pack a suit for Nate, but we have three weeks to buy—”
“He doesn’t need a suit,” Lily cut in. “He’s four years old. No one’s going to notice if he’s not dressed up like a tuxedo advertisement.”
Cammi pointed. “Oh, Max, is that li’l cutie over there Nate?”
He looked over his shoulder to where his son sat, deep in concentration as he colored on construction paper, and nodded. Lily couldn’t help but notice how his entire demeanor changed at the mere sight of the boy. He stood taller and smiled. Not that half-baked grin he’d been tossing around since he’d come home, but a genuine, full-faced, two-dimpled smile. If anyone doubted Max’s love for Nate, they need only see him now to believe how much his son meant to him.
Lily