Christmas in Angel Harbor - Jeannie Moon Page 0,32
cast, but I’m running drills with the crew after school tomorrow. I won’t see you until after tomorrow’s show.”
“Not a problem. I’m working tomorrow night. I’ll be there on Saturday with Tracy.”
“Okay. Be kind.” It must have been one horrible rehearsal if Tara had to remind her own mother to be nice.
“No worries.”
Jane sipped her tea, letting the warmth of the fragrant liquid ease through her. Tara wasn’t looking up, but Jane sensed there was something going on inside that head of hers. The girl’s brain spun at warp speed, especially when she was in a story.
“How was your dinner?” Tara asked finally. Glancing up, her eyes were bright and inquisitive. Nosy girl.
“It was…it was very nice. We went to Kent’s. It has a tasting menu. Different.”
“And this Danny guy? You’re old friends?”
“Uh, yes.” They were. That wasn’t a lie. “From high school. And after.”
“I called Aunt Tracy.”
Fuzznuts. “Really? Why?”
“Because you went on a date, with this guy.” Tara spun her laptop around with quite the theatrical flair, and there on the screen was Danny’s website, with all his dark, sexy gorgeousness right there in front of her. The reaction to him, the fresh memory of how he felt, rocked her to the core.
“Did your aunt give me up? Because really, I’m fifty years old. I think I can go out to dinner with an old friend without it becoming a federal case.”
“Mom! Old friend? He’s a famous writer, and you went out with him!” Tara was somewhere between giddy and horrified. “He’s Dan-Freaking-Gallo! He’s right up there with…” she waved her hands around “…Stephen King and Nora Roberts!”
“I’m aware of who he is; however, it was NOT a date.” Jane kept her eyes steady, but her nerves were rattling like she’d been mainlining coffee.
“No? You look very nice.”
“So? Because I put on a dress, that makes it a date?”
“You’re wearing makeup.”
“I wear makeup almost every day, and besides, I had to cover the racoon eyes, didn’t I?” Jane did not want to go around in circles about this. She especially didn’t want to do it with her seventeen-year-old.
“Stop it. You don’t have raccoon eyes. Did he pick you up?”
“Yes, but—”
“He paid for dinner?”
Crapola.
“Yes,” Jane whispered. “He did. Can you stop now?”
Her daughter folded her arms and leaned back in the chair. She was such a know-it-all. “Welp. What did we learn here this evening, kids?”
Chloe barked in response. Everyone had an opinion.
Jane pressed her forehead onto the cold granite countertop. She was much happier when she was living in a state of denial. Turning her head to the side she locked eyes with Tara. “Okay, maybe it was kind of…”
“A. Date. HA!” Tara leaned in, only inches now from Jane’s nose. “More power to you, Mom—he’s hot. I mean…” She paused, grinned. “For an old guy.”
Jane sat up, not appreciating the “old guy” comment. “That’s not nice.”
“So, um…did he kiss you?”
“Excuse me?” On the cheek, she thought. And he held her. God, did that feel good. He was all warm, and strong. But it was just two old friends, and he was offering her comfort after hearing her tale of woe. Reading anything into it was courting disaster. He was being kind. That was all.
“Not going to tell me?” Tara was really pushing her luck. Jane didn’t know how she felt about this sudden burst of interest in her life. It was sweet, in a way, but it was also annoying. Thinking about it, if she asked Tara the same questions, she’d get some serious pushback. “Mom…?”
“It’s NONE of your business. But no, he didn’t. So, no date.”
Tara stood and smiled, her eyes glittering in the soft light of the kitchen. She was looking more beautiful and more mature than Jane had ever seen. Her girl was a strong, articulate woman and it had happened in a flash. “If you say so, Mom.”
“Don’t be fresh.”
“I won’t, but I do have one more question.” With an about-face that made Jane sit back, her daughter’s teasing subsided, and gave way to a giddy hopefulness. Tara was back to twisting her fingers. “How long do you think he’s staying in town?”
“I don’t know. He’s working on a new book and wanted to go off the grid. I don’t think it’s going to be much of a secret in town, but don’t broadcast it. As far as how long? Through Christmas? But that’s a guess.”
Nodding, Tara took a deep breath, appearing to ponder what she was going to say next. There was almost