to scatter. Pete stopped in and convinced Aunt Edie to go to The Drunken Sailor and root for him while he competed in a darts tournament. Sabrina and Scotty went off to a party, and Jenna and Brody took a walk on the beach. Then it was just her and Jolly Roger the parrot. But Aunt Edie had put Roger to bed for the night, covering his cage, so there wasn’t even a peep out of him.
That was all right. She was used to being alone. No matter how much you went out and how many people you saw socially, when you were a widow, this was how you finished your day. This was your natural state.
She liked her own company. She could do alone just fine. She only wished she’d brought down the book she’d started.
There was always the TV. She rummaged through Aunt Edie’s DVD collection and finally pulled one out. Moonstruck. She hadn’t watched that in years. And she loved Nicholas Cage. Those eyes.
Ellis had eyes like Nicholas Cage.
Never mind him. She fetched a plate of Aunt Edie’s oatmeal cookies, then settled in to watch the movie. A widow reinventing herself and ending up with a handsome man—had this been a subconscious choice?
She found herself sighing when Ronny Cammareri and a new and improved Loretta Castorini met at the Lincoln Center to see Puccini’s La bohème. Then she found herself crying. Puccini could do that to you.
But it was more than Puccini, it was more than a romantic scene in a movie. It was a yearning, a need long suppressed. It ached and it cried to be acknowledged.
This wasn’t the movies though. This was real life. She’d had her moment for love. She’d had that fairy-tale romance.
She didn’t finish the movie. Jenna and Brody returned and they all played a game of cards. It was enough. Really.
Still, somewhere between that night and the next afternoon, Mel’s earlier attitude got lost and she found herself looking forward to that drive with Ellis. True love was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but friendship was another matter. She liked Ellis. There was no reason they couldn’t become good friends.
“You look lovely, Mom,” Jenna approved, taking in Mel’s white capris and flowing turquoise top. “You could be a model.”
Mel knew she was an attractive woman, but she never took compliments too seriously. Beauty wasn’t anything a woman accomplished on her own, so it was silly to take credit for it. Still, she always tried to honor it as she would any other blessing, taking care of herself and dressing nicely. Her husband had appreciated it.
Not that you’re dressing nicely for Ellis, she reminded herself. This is simply a friendly drive and an opportunity to see some beautiful scenery.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel pleased with his appreciative smile when he came to pick her up. “Pretty as a picture,” he said when she met him at the door.
He made a pretty good picture himself in his jeans and plain gray T-shirt with the black windbreaker over it. What was it about a man with broad shoulders that always set a woman’s heart skipping?
She murmured her thanks but didn’t return the compliment. She couldn’t have him thinking she was interested in him for anything other than friendship, especially with her daughter and her aunt hovering in the living room archway.
“Have fun, you two,” Jenna said as Mel grabbed her sweater and purse.
“We will,” Ellis said, then followed Mel off the porch and down the stairs.
It was the kind of spring day that inspired poets and songwriters—azure sky, warm sunshine and a cool, gentle breeze. Perfect for a ride in a classic convertible.
“This is quite the car,” Mel said as he opened the door for her.
“It was my midlife crisis car,” he said. “But I called it an investment. They don’t make ’em like this anymore. This T-Bird is worth a pretty penny now.”
“A T-Bird,” Mel repeated. How her husband would have loved to own a car like this one.
“Your daughter once called it a Caddy, but I forgave her,” he said with a grin once he was behind the wheel.
“I didn’t do a very good job of educating my daughters on cars,” Mel said.
“You did a great job of raising them to be good people and that’s what counts. Jenna’s the best thing that’s happened to Edie in a long time.”
“The same can be said about Aunt Edie for Jenna. Funny how things have a way of working out,” she mused.
“Yes, it is.” He