Marrying Mr. Right (2 page)

Cara leaned in and kept her voice low. “When was the last time you ate here, Mom?”

Nine months, one week and twenty-one hours, but who’s counting?
“I can’t remember.”

Luigi emerged from the kitchen and rushed over to the table. “Missy and Cara! How wonderful to see you both.”

Together the women stood and hugged the man who was a saint to run a family friendly restaurant. Her mind traveled back to the night many years ago when she and Vinnie brought the kids in for dinner. Nick had complained of a stomachache earlier, but since he seemed to always complain about something, neither she nor Vinnie took him seriously. Unfortunately, after only a few sips of minestrone, Nick barfed all over Luigi. Being the kind, sweet man he was, Luigi made no fuss. Instead, he cleaned up then had their dinners wrapped to go. He even called the house later to check on Nick.

Guilt rushed through Missy as Luigi shook his head. “I have not seen you in much too long.” He gave a sad shake of his head. “Oh, but I understand. Without Mr. Vinnie at home, it must be hard.”

Missy cleared her throat. “No. No, Luigi, I’ve been so busy with The Flower Box...and well, time has flown by.”

He nodded. “Ah yes, your business.” He nodded toward the large vase in the entry foyer filled with lilies and baby’s breath. Like clockwork Missy filled an order for the restaurant on a weekly basis—which only made her feel worse for ignoring one of her best customers.

“The Flower Box. It is a big success, no?”

“Yes, very big, thank you.”

“Oh, then, I understand. Building a clientele is hard work. Hopefully, we will see you more.”

“Yes, Luigi. You will see me more,” she assured him and promised herself from now on she’d come in at least once a week.

The large round man placed his hands on his stomach and chuckled. With his gray hair and beard he almost looked like Santa. “That is wonderful news! What you say I make my special Veal Luigi for Miss Cara?”

Cara’s eyes grew wide. “That’s my favorite!”

“Yes, some things I do not forget!” Luigi winked. “And for you, Missy, I bring, Eggplant Parmigiana.”

Close to drooling with anticipation of her favorite dish, Missy nodded. “That would be wonderful.”

As a waiter in a crisp white shirt and black pants filled their water glasses, Luigi took the menus, handed them to Anna Maria, then headed toward the kitchen. A moment later, his voice booming orders to the kitchen staff could be heard. A burst of laughter erupted by the entrance as customers began to fill the restaurant for lunch, greeting Anna Maria.

“I have a surprise,” Cara whispered.

Missy carefully opened the linen napkin over her lap. “So I figured.”

Cara pulled her hand out from under the table. A beautiful diamond solitaire, at least a carat in weight, sparkled from her petite hand.

“You’re engaged?” Missy’s voice boomed.

Anna Maria must have heard because she hurried over.

“Yes. Are you happy, Mom?”

“Of course I am.” Missy slid out of the booth to hug her daughter. “We love Dan.”

While Anna Maria made the sign of the cross and murmured something in Italian, she kissed Cara then rushed toward the kitchen. “Wait until Luigi hears the wonderful news!”

Missy and Cara slid back into their booth. “We don’t want a long engagement, Mom.”

Missy fiddled with her silverware. “What can I do to help?”

Relief flooded Cara’s face. “I’d really love you to plan the entire day, Mom. Both Dan and I are coming up on some vacation time, but work has me bombarded so I don’t have time to do anything.” She reached across the table to take her mother’s hands. “Thanks so much for offering to take over.”

Take over? Missy’s heart started a slow pound in her chest. “What sort of time frame are we looking at?” She shook out her napkin and placed it back on her lap.

Cara shrugged. “I don’t know. Four weeks?”

Mouth dry as the Sahara desert, Missy croaked, “Honey, that’s right around the corner.”

Cara took a blithe sip of her water. “You can do anything, Mom.”

“I can?”

She slid a piece of paper across the table. “Here’s a list of halls for you to call.”

Oh crap. Could she pull this off in only four weeks? How would she run the shop and plan a wedding and reception on such short notice? She knew friends who did it over a year’s span of time, and had almost lost their minds. A month? Thirty days? Where would she fit in the mandatory weekly trips to the flower market, which in and of themselves meant an entire day away from the shop? Oh, man, this was not good.

“A friend of mine planned her wedding in only six months. I’m sure you’ll be able to do the same.”

“But, honey, four weeks? That’s only thirty days.”

With a frown, Cara crossed her arms over her chest. “So? What gives, Mom? Normally you’d embrace an opportunity to do all the planning. Is the shop becoming too much? Maybe you should hire more help.”

“The Flower Box is fine. Ann and I handle things perfectly between the two of us.”

“Then why do you seem so antsy?”

Missy sipped her water. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why haven’t you been back to Luigi’s before today? This used to be your favorite restaurant.”

Missy couldn’t find enough to occupy her fingers. “I’ve been busy.”

“You need to get on with your life. Dad is.”

“What does that mean?” She gave her daughter’s face a close inspection. Had Vinnie been talking about his personal life, because that was totally unacceptable. They’d agreed at the time they separated to not use the kids as confidantes or middle-men in any way. Their separation was their problem, and did not involve the children in any way shape or form.

Cara shrugged. “He dates.”

Missy hoped she hid the anger that began to roil in her belly.

A waiter came over with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “On the house, Mrs. Modesto.”

“Oh, isn’t this wonderful.” She glanced at Anna Maria standing by the hostess area, and waved a thank you. Anna Maria smiled and nodded.

Vinnie had to have said something to Cara and right now, Missy wanted to rip his larynx out. Once the waiter was out of earshot, she hissed, “How do you know he dates?”

Cara waved off the question. “It doesn’t matter. You spend too much time at the shop, Mom. You really need to get out more.”

“I get out!”

“Your monthly Bunco group doesn’t count.”

“Those women are my friends.”

“Mom, you need friends of the male persuasion.”

“I have Hugo.”

“You’re comparing a French Bulldog to a man?”

Missy felt her eyes go to slits as she attacked a roll and buttered it with jerky motions of the knife. “Do not diss my dog, young lady. Hugo’s love is unconditional and he doesn’t talk back, which is more than I could ever say about your father.”

Within days of adopting her twenty-eight pound white French Bulldog from the local animal shelter she found herself hating to leave him each morning. At night, she couldn’t wait to close up the store so she could get home to him.

Hell, she and Vinnie had been married twenty-seven years. Not once had she minded leaving him.

****

Later that evening, Missy almost tripped over a wrapped bouquet of roses waiting for her on her doorstep. In her haste to get to the shop that morning, she’d forgotten to leave on the porch light. In the dark, she nearly trampled them. After scooping up the flowers, she checked for a card, but found none. The oddness of that went right out of her mind as soon as she opened the door and the dog flew to her side.

“Hello, Mr. Hugo.”

She placed the flowers on the table and plopped into a kitchen chair just in time for Hugo to jump onto her lap. No matter how many times she’d told him he wasn’t a lap dog, he ignored the directive. As he showered her chin with kisses, her heart burst with love for this sweet animal.

With Cara and Dan living in New York and twenty-two-year-old Nick in his own place, once Vinnie had moved out, the five bedroom colonial that once was filled with laughter and the sounds of kids sat not only empty but eerily quiet. Missy needed a companion.

At the local animal shelter, she found Hugo sitting by himself in the back of a large dog crate. When Missy bent down and met his eyes, the connection had been immediate. Hugo jumped up from his pallet and hobbled over to her. The volunteer said that Missy was the first person the pure white dog had taken to in days. In her eyes it had been destiny—two lonely souls, each needing someone to love. It turned out Hugo needed life saving surgery, which the shelter couldn’t afford, so Missy paid for the operation and saved the dog’s life.

Funny thing about that—he’d been saving hers every day since.

As Missy scratched behind Hugo’s ears, the dog leaned into her hand with what sounded like a moan of delight. “I love you, too,” she crooned in a voice reserved only for animals and small children. “Did you buy these flowers for my birthday? Did you?”

Right on cue, he kissed her chin again.

“Well, that was awfully thoughtful of you.” She giggled and placed him onto the floor. She walked over to Hugo’s treat jar and handed him a dog biscuit specifically to combat mouth odor.

“Here, eat this. That breath of yours could stop a bus.” He jumped up and grabbed the biscuit then brought it over to his bed in the far corner of the room.

After she filled his bowls with cold water, and a mix of soft dog food and kibble, Hugo settled down for his usual lengthy chomp. She tried not to inhale. You’d think since this soft food she bought from the veterinarian was so damn expensive, it would at least smell good. No wonder the dog had bad breath.

She headed toward the stairs to go up and change her clothes when a piece of paper on the kitchen table caught her eye. From her best friend, Val, it read, “Come over when you get home.”

Of course. Val always remembered birthdays and every other special occasion. The flowers had to be from her. Missy went to her room, changed her clothes, threw on a jacket, strapped Hugo’s leash in place and walked around the corner to Val’s immaculate Cape Cod.

Once inside the door, Val’s cat, Cleo, shrieked and immediately raced away. Hugo groaned, then glanced at Missy as if to ask, what’s with her?

“Sorry, sweetie. She doesn’t understand that you’re friendly.”

The aroma of homemade spaghetti sauce swirled around her.

Over the dog’s snort of disgust, Missy headed into the kitchen where she found Val at the kitchen sink, filling two glasses with water.

“Yeah, Cleo isn’t so trusting ever since that nasty Rottweiler moved in across the street.” After wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she walked over to hug Missy. “Happy birthday.”

“I’m stopping at forty-five and counting backward from now on.”

Val chuckled and returned to the sink to dry lettuce leaves. “So we’re having a wedding?”

Missy nodded. She’d made a quick call to Val earlier and filled her in on the good news. “Like I told you, Cara and Dan got engaged last night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy.”

“Ahhh, young love,” Val said. “Good for her.”

Missy sunk into a kitchen chair and unleashed Hugo, who then collapsed at her feet. “She wants me to plan the wedding.”

Val turned to face her. “The whole thing?”

Missy blew out a deep, calming breath. It didn’t work. “Uh huh.” She slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the back of the chair.

“Where will you find the time?”

Missy shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to make it. They’ve lived together for two years, but now decide they have to be married in four weeks. I’m happy to oblige. I just want her to be happy.”

Val slid into the seat opposite her and gave her the fish-eye. “Is she pregnant?”

Missy chuckled. “That’s what I thought, but she told me in no uncertain way that she and Dan don’t plan on children for quite a while.”

“How will you find a hall with an opening on such short notice? You’re good, honey, but you’re not Wonder Woman.”

“I don’t know about that, but I won’t disappoint her. At least the church is available. I called Father Timothy this afternoon and booked it. That’s one thing off the list,” Missy said, and noticed the kitchen table was set for two. “Did you do this for me?”

Val nodded. “You didn’t eat dinner, did you?”

“Nope. I just got home.”

“I figured.”

“Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful. How did you manage to get them and avoid seeing me at the shop?”

Val frowned. “Flowers?”

“The ones on my doorstep. They’re from you, right?”

“Nope. You bit my head off last year for buying you a birthday present. I wasn’t about to go through a repeat of that debacle.”

It was true. With her and Vinnie on the rocks and not feeling very good about herself, Missy decided she didn’t want to be reminded of birthdays anymore so she forbade the kids and Val from buying anything for her. “I wonder who they’re from?”

“Wasn’t there a card?”

“No.”

“Ohhh, you have a secret admirer!” As the oven timer went off, Val stood and pulled a casserole from the oven. Placing it on the trivet, she said, “Look, I made your favorite dinner. Veal Parmigiana.”

This flower mystery irritated Missy and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “I wish everyone would stop making me my favorite food! First Luigi, now you.”

Val tipped her head in question. “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you.”

“Why aren’t you in a good mood? I mean, I know you don’t like birthdays, but you did spend your day with Cara. And now we’re sitting down to this primo meal made from scratch by me!”

“It did.” She hesitated and swallowed hard. “We went to Luigi’s for lunch.”

Val’s face drained of all color. Eyes wide and forehead wrinkled, she slid into the chair opposite Missy and covered her hand with hers. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. You must have been dying inside. Did you see that bonehead of an ex everywhere you looked?”

Missy blew out a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair. “No, thank God, but it was harder than I thought it would be.”

“Stop playing with your hair,” Val snapped. “You always do that when you’re upset.”