Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,49
it, she felt defensive. “Look, thank you for all this, the cleaning and straightening up. But just because you got a bug to start acting like a mother to me doesn’t mean I have the same bug to act like your daughter.”
“But you are my daughter,” Rose said softly, coming out from behind the desk. She put her hands on Melissa’s arms, even though Mel stood there stiff as a board. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I was a selfish, horrible person when you were young, but for years now I’ve regretted that and you haven’t let me in.”
“I wasn’t ready.”
“I know. I know you’re still not, but baby, I’ve decided to stop letting you waste what time we have left.”
Melissa’s tummy dropped. “Are you…sick?”
“No,” Rose said quickly, with a little squeeze of her hands, her eyes shining. “But I want to hug you for that spurt of panic you just felt.”
Melissa took a step back. “That wasn’t panic. That was…me just being a healer.”
Rose smiled. “Know what I think?”
“I’d rather not.”
Rose held up the pink envelopes, every one of them, which Mel had rubber-banded and kept in her desk. “I think you’re going to like me.”
“Don’t push your luck.” Feeling hounded, Mel went to the front door and held it open.
Rose nodded and came close. “I can come back and sit at your front desk tomorrow, if you’d like.”
“Don’t you have something more important to do? Fly around the world? Dance? Something?”
“No. I only teach ballet on Saturdays.” Rose’s smile was as stubborn as…Mel’s.
Gee, guess she knew where she’d gotten it from.
“I have nothing more important than you,” Rose said softly. “Nothing.”
“Now.”
Rose’s smile faltered. “I was only eighteen when you were born. I—”
“No. Please. I don’t want to do this.” Her chest had tightened, along with her throat, and behind her eyes was a horrifying sting of tears. “I can’t.”
Rose stared at her for a long moment, then slowly nodded.
“I’m fine without you,” Mel said thickly. “I am.”
“Of course you are. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to be fine if you’re not alone.”
“I like alone.”
Rose sighed, looked like she might say something else, but Mel opened the door wider in a not-too-subtle hint. “Good night,” Mel said.
“Good night.” Rose’s voice reflected her sadness.
Melissa turned away, no idea why she felt guilty. No idea at all.
A FEW DAYS LATER, Jason had just ordered himself a nice big cholesterol-filled breakfast at the Serendipity Café when Dr. Melissa Anders walked in, looking like her usual put-together, uptight self.
Just the sight of her made him smile.
She didn’t see him, mostly because she kept her eyes straight forward as she headed toward the counter, her sensible low heels clicking on the worn black-and-white checkered linoleum. He wondered if she saw the charm in the place that hadn’t been redecorated since sometime during John F. Kennedy’s era. This place with the jukebox and the red vinyl booths faded to a dark rose, the movie posters on the walls…it wasn’t some wannabe retro café, but the real deal.
But she didn’t take the time to look around, instead set her hands on the counter and ordered coffee.
The breakfast of champions.
Or the breakfast of a vet always in a hurry.
The waitress behind the counter smiled warmly at her, and thanked her again for fixing up her dog last week. Then the cook came out to ask her a question about his cat’s bowel movements. An older couple sitting at the counter told her a story about a kitten she’d delivered for them.
All the while Melissa seemed to squirm.
Jason’s smile widened just a bit. Poor baby. Give her a dying animal, or even one who just needed its shots, and she was in her element.
Give her humans to deal with and she wiggled like a five-year-old who’d downed too much apple juice. He decided to rescue her. “Melissa.”
Her short dark hair spun when she looked over at him. She remained cool, he’d give her that, but her eyes gave her away, going from quick surprise to a flash of awareness and excitement, to a wariness he wanted to kiss away.
He’d concentrate on that awareness and excitement. “Come sit down and eat with me.”
“I’m just having coffee.”
“You can’t work on just coffee. Marge, add another special to my order.”
Marge smiled. “Coming up.”
Melissa sighed but walked over to him. Standing, he reached for her hand, urged her to sit. Before she could protest, he’d slid into the same side of the booth with her.