Second Honeymoon. Laura Abbot

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СКАЧАТЬ was Jannie reminding her of their scheduled Saturday tennis game. “I’m sorry, but Scott’s parents will be here. I should’ve let you know.”

      “No problem. I’ll find another game. Enjoy the in-laws.”

      “I’ll try.” Meg steeled herself, wondering how on earth she could hide the state of her marriage from Scott’s parents. “They’re really nice people.”

      “Right. That must explain why you get so uptight every time they come to Tulsa.”

      Meg raced through an intersection on the yellow light. “I like them. But…they dote on Scott. He can do no wrong.” She could hardly restrain her sarcasm—or her sense of inadequacy.

      “Ah, the golden-boy syndrome,” Jannie said knowingly.

      “That about sums it up.”

      “And you feel…what? Snubbed? Like you don’t measure up?”

      Waves of insecurity swept over Meg, dating back to the first time she’d met the Harpers and realized no one would ever be good enough for Scott, at least in his mother’s mind. “Something like that.”

      “Join the crowd, honey. But what these mamas don’t know is how happy we make their little boys, right?”

      Happy? Meg controlled a snort. It was easier just to agree. Saying anything else would open the flood-gates of her emotions. “Oh, yes. What Mrs. Harper doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” The irony of her intentional double meaning brought her up short.

      After setting another tennis date, Meg hung up, wondering what had happened to her sense of humor. “Mamas” and “little boys” once would’ve provoked a grin.

      When she turned into the circular drive in front of the high-school gymnasium, she spotted Hayley and three other girls sitting on the concrete wall, their tanned legs swinging, talking to two young men wearing low-slung jeans and baggy shirts. Hayley hadn’t dated much, to Meg’s relief, but there was something in her expression, the high color in her cheeks, that made Meg suspect her daughter had more than a passing interest in one of these boys. Meg sighed. She wasn’t ready for the angst of teenage love. Especially with a kid who looked like a wannabe rap star.

      Recognizing the car, Hayley hopped off the wall, waved at her friends and climbed in the front seat. “Who were those boys?” Meg asked as she pulled out from the school.

      “Oh, just Zach Simon and some other guy in my biology class.”

      “They looked like they were into you. What’s up?”

      Hayley shrugged her shoulders. “There’s nothing to tell—”

      Meg bought it until Hayley added, “Really.”

      Acknowledging that her daughter probably wouldn’t welcome further inquiries, Meg dropped it. She glanced at the dash and realized she was speeding.

      After several minutes of silence, Hayley turned to her. “When do Gramma and Grampa get here? I can’t wait to see them.”

      “Not for about an hour.” Meg prayed that was true. She had too much to do in the meantime.

      “Will Dad be home for dinner?”

      Was Scott’s presence at the evening meal so rare that Hayley had to ask? “I certainly hope so. After all, your grandparents would be disappointed if he wasn’t.”

      Meg thought she heard a catch in her daughter’s voice. “So would I.” Hayley’s mask of nonchalance slipped. In its place was—yearning?

      Good Lord. How would Hayley react when she and Scott separated and she only saw her father on prearranged visits? If Scott took his role as a parent seriously.

      Even as she formed that thought, she admitted it was unfair. Scott loved the kids. She’d never doubted that. But he loved his ad agency, too. And it was hard to compete with Harper Concepts. Especially when you were only fifteen.

      “He’ll be there,” Meg said in a firm voice, as if emphasizing it would make it true. Hayley picked at the strap of her backpack but said nothing.

      The sun was low in the sky when Meg turned onto their tree-lined street.

      “What’s that thing?” Hayley asked, her tone of disgust unmistakable.

      Meg followed Hayley’s gaze. There, parked in front of their third garage and taking up most of the length of their driveway, was a huge brown-and-beige motor home. Why, oh why, hadn’t there been a tie-up on the freeway, a rainstorm, anything to slow the Harpers down? No one but Justin had been home to greet them, no cooking aromas wafted from a dinner simmering on the stove, no welcome flag flew from the pole. Once again, Meg had failed the domesticity challenge.

      “That’s your grandparents’ new motor home.”

      “I didn’t know it would be so big.” Hayley stared incredulously. “It’s gross. I’m so embarrassed.”

      “Why on earth would you say that?”

      “The other kids’ll laugh. Mom, it’s total senior-citizen geekdom!”

      Meg stifled a giggle. The motor home did scream AARP. “Get over it. You will be gracious and accepting of your grandparents.”

      Hayley gave her a mock salute. “Aye, aye, captain.” Then, to Meg’s surprise, she relented. “I’m sorry. It’s just…so big. But I do love Gramma and Grampa.”

      “I know you do, honey.” Meg decided to capitalize on Hayley’s temporary good graces. “I could use your help with dinner.”

      “Ask Gramma. She loves to putter in the kitchen.”

      In one fell swoop, Hayley had removed herself from consideration and volunteered her grandmother—the very person whose help Meg had hoped to avoid.

      But what did she deserve? Her marriage was falling apart, and now she couldn’t even pull off being a gracious hostess. Easing past the behemoth and into the garage, she muttered a silent prayer, then told her daughter, “The least you can do is help carry in the groceries.”

      WHERE THE HELL was Scott? Meg’s face was a mask of good cheer, but internally she was boiling. Did she have to entertain by herself? The Harpers were his parents, after all. Somehow she’d managed to light the gas grill, and Bud and Justin were presiding over the steaks. Marie, however, had not left her side during the rest of the food preparation, inserting culinary tips into the conversation like “You’ll want to chill the salad bowls, Meg”—which necessitated rearranging the refrigerator. Hayley had willingly set the table under her grandmother’s direction, but heaven forbid the salad forks went on the inside of the dinner forks.

      Meg was within minutes of serving the meal, and still there was no sign of Scott. He hadn’t even bothered to phone. Despite the awkwardness, Meg refused to make excuses for him, but Marie more than made up for that. “Scotty works so hard. I know he’ll be here as soon as he finishes whatever business he has.”

      Meg bit her lip. Marie’s very words got at the heart of the problem—Scott would be home when he’d addressed his more important obligations. Only then СКАЧАТЬ