“But this isn’t yours. Not really. Wouldn’t you rather live somewhere that will one day belong to her? Where she can look at a chair in the corner and say that’s where Gina-bee used to read me stories. This is where my dad taught me to ride a bike. God, Gina. If we do this right, we can give her everything that we never had.”
All of her protestations died on her tongue. She’d been about to defend herself, the home she’d provided for Amanda Jane, but she realized he wasn’t saying it wasn’t good enough. He was saying they could do even better together. He didn’t say “I can give her...” he’d said we.
He had this way of speaking that made her imagine picket fences, family picnics and happily-ever-after. She had to keep herself grounded. There was no relationship between them. He just wanted a chance to raise his daughter.
She hurried to add, “I just don’t see how this will work.”
“I’m not under any illusion that this will be easy. There will be a lot of compromise for both of us.”
“I’ll be honest, I’m terrified of moving in with you. I’m terrified that you’ll try to control us with the money. I’m terrified...” She didn’t say the rest of what she was feeling. It was too much.
“I’m terrified, too,” he confessed.
That was when his warm, strong fingers closed around hers.
“But everything is going to be okay, Gina.”
This wasn’t exactly what she’d pictured when she imagined one day holding hands with Reed Hollingsworth, but it wasn’t bad. Maybe it was better than what she thought she wanted.
The gesture was meant to comfort her, reassure her.
And strangely, it did. She’d felt so alone while going through this, and realizing that he had doubts and fears didn’t make her position less secure, but more. To her, it meant that he’d thought about the realities of their situation, but he still wanted to try.
He believed he knew what he was in for.
She held his hand in silence for a long time into the quiet night.
“AMANDA JANE TEXTED to tell me that Operation Frogfest is a go.” Maudine Townsend put her phone down next to her stack of poker chips.
“Frankly, Maudy, I’m surprised.” Helga pushed her chips around. “You know, if this little plot of yours doesn’t work, we’re going to have to give up our Friday nights. At least until after the case.”
“You know, I’m actually surprised that Reed’s lawyer didn’t ask for another judge.”
Helga shrugged. “He probably figures that you know everyone.”
“Or he’s plotting something.” Maudine’s eyes narrowed further.
“Not everyone’s brain works like yours, Maudy.”
“Yes, it does. Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”
“Actually, I think since we’re here, we could work on Marie. She’s too young to be a Glory Grandmother.”
“She’s very good at what she does. Her tiramisu is to die for. And that cute little bed-and-breakfast for romantic hideaways? It’s perfect. She has a sense about people who belong together.”
“She does,” Helga agreed. “But her husband has been dead a long time. Her son, Johnny, is grown and Marie is too young to spend the rest of her life alone.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to be with anyone else. After mine died, well...I’m done with that.”
“Marie is only forty-five. It’s too young to dry up and be the cranky old Italian grandmother. All of her friends are...us.”
“There’s nothing wrong with us.”
“Except that we’re sitting in my basement, drinking Herb’s beer and playing poker. But we lie and tell everyone we’re playing pinochle and sipping tea like the old broads we are.”
Maudine sniffed. “I am not an old broad.”
“You most certainly are. But it’s okay. We play cupid rather well.” Helga shifted her cards.
Maudine’s phone beeped. “Another text. They’re on the porch drinking sweet tea and holding hands. Everything is coming together.” She sounded like some kind of movie villain.
“Tell that child to get in bed.”
“She is.”
“You know what I mean.” Helga nodded. “And are we matchmaking or playing poker because I’m about ready to beat you.”
“I know. Which is why the matchmaking is so much more fun.” Maudine sighed.
“You’re a sore loser, Maudine.”
“I never lose when it counts.” Maudine grinned.
“This is like herding cats. I give up.”
“You fold? I win.” Maudine looked very pleased with herself.
“No, you don’t, you old bat. But what are we doing? I don’t have that paperwork on my desk yet.”
“You will. Tomorrow, we’re going to shove them together every chance we get.” Maudine started putting the cards away. “Frogfest is magical.”
“Not for the frogs,” Helga offered helpfully.
Maudine growled.
“Look, I just don’t understand why you think they need to get married. Gina has her whole life to decide.”
“But I don’t have mine.”
Helga narrowed her eyes. “Yes, you did. You made your choices and now you’ve got to let her make hers.”
“But they’re all wrong.” Maudine huffed.
“So were yours when you made them. So were mine. And we turned out fine.”
Maudine raised a brow. “Maybe so. But I’ve already lost a granddaughter, the daughter I never had, and my son...who knows. Gina and Amanda Jane have known so much pain and so much loss. So has Reed. I didn’t do right by that boy. But I am now and you’re going to help me.”
Helga harrumphed. “You say that like I haven’t been part of every scheme that’s hatched in your head like a goose egg since we were babies.”
Maudine returned the harrumph, with interest. “You don’t seem like you’re on board.”
“I am on board. With Gina’s happiness, not your idea of what it should be. That’s for the girl to decide.”
“Youth is utterly wasted on the young.” Maudine shook her head.
“That’s kind of the beauty of it, don’t you think?”
“No.”
Helga laughed. “She will find her way, Maud.”
“Maybe. But we need to help her at least see the path.”
“Okay. How do you propose we help her see the path? I mean, we’ve practically shoved her nose in it.”
“Well, I haven’t gotten that far. At least not past Frogfest.” She shifted in her seat.
Helga laughed. “Then I suppose we’d better get to plotting, but first, you’re going to tell me how you are.” She held up her hand. “How you really are. Not what you want everyone else to think.”
Maudine shifted in her chair a bit. “Some days are better than others. I’ve had