man-sized entrees for five bucks a plate. Once the bypass was finished, cutting Florence out of a big chunk of beach traffic, the town business owners had been smart enough to revamp the way Rory and his family had done. A crop of trendy-styled places had sprung up, touched with a small town flair. The combination tempted city people to detour.
Daralyn had been to The Purple Swan with his mother and Les, to celebrate Les’s birthday, followed by some shopping in the local array of “quaint” stores, as his mother put it. What had stuck in his mind was Elaine mentioning how enchanted Daralyn seemed by the restaurant’s décor and that she’d eaten most of the small portion she’d been served. That was good enough for him.
He’d called ahead and confirmed access logistics and whether the optimal seating locations would accommodate a wheelchair. Nothing could cast a pall on an evening like finding out the place was so jammed with people and tables a wheelchair patron would get stuck in a back corner near the restrooms, server’s station or a noisy kitchen access.
After he closed up the store, he went home, took a shower, got dressed. It took him longer than most people to get ready for things, especially when he wanted to look his best, so he’d done his workout early this morning, rather than at the end of the day like he usually did.
Elaine was home, but headed for her book club at six. She knew about the date but, to her credit, she didn’t make a big deal of it, though he saw her doing the mom secret smile thing. When he came into the kitchen, he had his suit coat folded over his lap. He hadn’t yet tied his tie, the two silky ends draped on either side of the collar, the shirt open a couple buttons.
As usual, his mother looked attractively put together. Except for the unsettling year after their father’s death, she always emerged from her room in the morning fully dressed in flattering outfits, her dyed dark hair curled and arranged, her makeup in place. Tonight, she’d dressed up a bit. Even if he hadn’t already known, it would have reminded him it was book club night.
Her eyes sparkled as they lighted on him. “You look very handsome. Want me to help with the tie?”
“I’ll do it. But if I ever meet the guy who invented a noose as a fashion statement, I’ll string him up with one.” Rory winked at her as he popped the collar and started the process. He’d typically check himself in a mirror after, but Mom was better for that. “How many bottles of wine are you ladies planning to finish off tonight? Sorry, I meant books.”
She sniffed. “I noticed you had a tear in your sock when I did the laundry yesterday. Everything okay?”
She’d learned not to hover so much, but she’d still ask. A mom was going to be a mom, no matter if he was in his twenties or his fifties.
“Yes, ma’am. Caught my ankle on the metal shelf edge in that back corner of the store, where it’s hard to maneuver. I checked and it didn’t even leave a scrape.” He shot her a wink. “A little higher up and it would have caught my pants. I’d have a good start on those fancy hundred-dollar jeans the kids run to the store to get.”
Not that his were much cheaper. His day-to-day jeans were designed for the wheelchair disabled, with no back pockets, and a lined seat with no seams that could rub against his skin and cause sores. But from the front and sides they still looked like anyone else’s jeans.
“Just so they rest on your backside the way they should,” his mother said primly.
“But I was looking forward to wearing them belted around my thighs.” He grinned at her. “For me, that’d make dressing in the morning a lot easier.”
She snorted, and surveyed him as he finished with the tie, putting his collar down. “Good?” he asked.
“Perfect. Your father never could do that without help. Must have skipped a generation, because your grandfather could do it in his sleep.” She closed the distance between them and put her fingers on the tie, smoothing it, and him beneath, then touched his face, his brushed hair.
“I won’t go on,” she promised in that way that told him she would, with very little encouragement. “But I’m glad you asked her to dinner. You’re helping her see