Chapter Twenty

Maybe it was crazy to be happy on the day she should have been getting married, but Riley was. Response to her invitations had been enthusiastic and she was going to have a full house for her party. Most of her extended family except the farthest-flung were coming, as well as her friends and fellow teachers (except Emily), and the senior center was bringing a busload. Even a few of the more spry residents of the nursing home would be attending. Her non-wedding reception was the talk of the town.

It had especially been the talk of the teachers’ lounge. “I bought a new dress for the occasion,” Marge had informed her. “And I’m making Leo wear a suit.”

“That’ll be something to see,” her best friend Stella had said. “I still can’t believe you’re doing this,” she’d told Riley just as Emily walked into the room.

“There’s no sense wasting a good party,” Riley had replied, “and I may as well celebrate my lucky escape,” she’d added, which made Emily frown.

“We’re happy to help you,” Stella had said. “I think we should pin a medal on you for courage under fire. Here you’ve had to put up with seeing that woman every day but you managed to be civilized. If my friend had betrayed me like that, I’d have pulled her hair out.”

Emily’s face had turned as red as a Christmas stocking and she’d fled the room.

“Stella, she heard you,” Marge had scolded.

The offender had merely shrugged. “The truth hurts. It’s about time we stopped tiptoeing around the subject, anyway.”

For a moment Riley had felt almost sorry for Emily. Almost. She hoped Sean was worth it for her.

And that was the last thought she gave to Sean and Emily. She had more important things to take care of, like getting ready for her big day.

Jo was worried about taking the baby out again after the family visit the night before, convinced that he was going to come down with a cold any minute. So at five o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Riley went to her place to get fixed up, bearing her wedding gown and all the trimmings.

Mike let her in. He had the baby in one arm and hugged her with the other.

“Welcome home,” Riley said, juggling her party duds.

“Thanks. It’s good to be home.”

Good to be home. That was a positive sign. Maybe he and Jo had worked out their differences regarding his reenlistment. She pointed to the sleeping baby. “Look at you. Daddy of the year.”

“I’m workin’ on it. Go on back to the bedroom. Jo’s got a bunch of makeup and curling irons and shit ready for you. Us guys’ll hang out here and watch ESPN,” he said and went to the living room.

The living room resembled a magazine layout with everything in place. The bedroom was just as neat. Even the bed was made. “How do you keep this place looking like a model home?” Riley asked as she laid her gown on the bed. “Didn’t you give birth two weeks ago?”

“We’re not that messy. Well, the kitchen is. Mike’s been cooking.”

“It must be great to have him home,” Riley said. Mike looked happy, her sister looked happy. Another positive sign.

“It is. Come into the bathroom and let’s do something with your hair.”

“So, everything’s okay with you guys?” Riley persisted as she followed her sister into the bathroom.

“Everything’s great.”

“He’s not reenlisting?”

“He is. I told him he could.”

Riley practically fell onto the edge of the tub. “Seriously?”

Jo shrugged. “I was being unrealistic. You know, in the end I want him to do what he needs to do. I want him to be happy. He’d want the same for me.”

“So you can live with him being gone.”

“I’ve done it for eight years. I’ll manage. And it’s not like I don’t have a support system in place. You guys will all be there for us, and so will Mike’s family. I’m sure Mikey will never have a Little League game that doesn’t have somebody there rooting for him. And it’s not like I’ll be lacking in childcare. Heck, if Mom had her way we’d move in with her and Dad, and she’d watch Mikey twenty-four-seven.”

Jo did a good job of making it sound like a breeze to let her husband go every three months but Riley knew better. “You’re pretty amazing, sis.”

Jo shrugged. “Not really, not compared to the wives who’ve been doing this for a lot longer than me and with more kids to handle. I guess when a man enlists, so does his family. Anyway, that’s enough about me. Today it’s all about you.” She picked up the curling iron. “Come on over here and let’s make your hair look fabulous. Up with some soft curls falling on one side of your face, right?”

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Okay, then,” Jo said and got to work. “By the way, if you want to talk about amazing, I’d say you’ve been pretty amazing yourself. You not only bounced back from getting hurt, you also soared, and I’m proud of you. We all are. I hope you know that.”

Riley looked at their reflections in the mirror—her stylish sister and her, about to become stylish (for the evening, anyway). They were both smiling. Caption this moment Happiness. Life had its downs, its sad times and bad times, but in moments like this they faded into the shadows.

She reached up and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Thanks, sis. I love you.”

“Right back atcha,” Jo said and got back to styling her hair.

Twenty minutes later it was a thing of beauty. They moved on to makeup and in another ten minutes it was time to shed her blouse and jeans and get into her gown. Finally, made up, sprayed, perfumed, gowned and adorned with Grammy’s pearls, Riley studied herself in Jo’s full-length bedroom mirror. “Wow.”

“Wow is right,” Jo said. “You look like a princess.”

“I feel like a princess,” Riley said, grinning at her lace bodice and the sparkly tulle skirt. The faux fur stole was enough to keep her warm on her way to the party.

“You really should wait and let us drive you to the club.”

“No. I want to get there early and check everything out,” Riley said. And perhaps allow herself a moment of...reflection. Not mourning. She wasn’t going to mourn the loss of Sean. She refused. This was going to be a happy night.

“Okay,” Jo said dubiously, handing over the bag she’d put Riley’s other clothes in. “Be careful with the hair and for heaven’s sake lift your skirt when you get out of the car.”

“I will,” Riley assured her. “Thanks for making me beautiful.”

“You already were beautiful. See you in an hour.”

Another hug and Riley was ready to roll.

“You look stellar,” Mike said when she came back down the hall in her gown. “Sean was a fool.”

She murmured her thanks and sailed out the door, Princess Riley going to the ball.

About halfway to the ball, Princess Riley’s coach had a flat tire. “Oh, no,” she groaned. “Seriously?”

She stepped carefully out of the car and checked the back left tire. Yep. Flat as a pancake. How could that happen? And on her non-wedding day of all days! “Just shoot me now.” So much for getting to the golf club early. She’d be lucky if she even made it there on time.

A truck rolled by with a couple of teenage boys in it who lowered the window and hooted at her. “Thanks for helping,” she called after them. Sheesh. Where was Prince Charming when you needed him?

Stopping right now. Except the car pulling up behind her didn’t contain Prince Charming. It held Prince Poop and his new princess—who wisely stayed in the car while Sean got out. “Riley, are you okay?”

Resentment reared its ugly head but she smacked it away. “Actually, I am now.”

He had the grace to look chagrined. “I’m a shit. What can I say?”

“Not much. But you know what, no hard feelings,” she added. “I forgive you.” She glanced over at Emily, who was hiding. “Both of you.”

He nodded, obviously embarrassed. “Looks like you’ve got a flat.”

He didn’t say anything about her wearing a wedding dress, the coward. Emily had probably told him all about the party.

“Flip your trunk.”

“You don’t need to help. I’ll call Triple A.”

“I’m here and I’m happy to help.”

“No, it’s okay.”

He took a step closer. “Riles, I really am sorry about what happened. Let me at least change your tire so you can get to your party. You look great, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She hadn’t wanted him to see her in her wedding dress until the big moment. Funny. Now there was no big moment, but here he was, seeing her in it. Did he feel the tiniest bit of regret?

Did it matter?

Another car pulled up, a patrol car, which was becoming an all-too-familiar sight. Out stepped Officer Knight. “Is there a problem here?”

“I had a flat tire,” Riley explained.

Officer Knight seemed confused. “You’re getting married, after all?”

Sean’s face reddened and Riley could feel hers heating up, as well. “No,” she said, not looking at Sean. “But I’m having a party, anyway. Why waste such a fancy gown?”

Officer Knight grinned. “Good for you. Well, let’s get you on your way.”

“I’ve got it, Officer,” Sean said. “Riles, pop the trunk.”

“Oh, Officer Knight, this is my former fiancé,” Riley said, taking perverse pleasure in introducing the offending former groom. No resentment—really—but, hey, she was human.

Officer Knight didn’t offer a hand to shake. In fact, he looked as if he’d like to cite Sean for having the nerve to stop.

“We, um, it didn’t work out,” Sean said lamely and darted a glance at Emily, as if hoping for some kind of telepathic moral support. No support there. She was still slumped in the passenger seat of his car, trying to be invisible.

Yet another person joined the party. Here came Lizbeth Parker, girl reporter, smelling a good story. “Hi, there,” she said to the three of them. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Lizbeth,” said Officer Knight. “Move along.”

“I had a flat tire on the way to my non-wedding reception,” Riley told her. Then couldn’t resist adding, “My former fiancé stopped to change my tire. Wasn’t that sweet of him?” Was it totally evil to put Sean in the hot seat? Would Santa cross her off his list for being naughty?

Lizbeth grinned, a coconspirator in naughtiness. “Do tell.”

“I guess if you don’t need me, I’ll leave,” Sean said.

“I don’t.” And wasn’t it a relief to realize that!

He skedaddled and Officer Knight got busy changing Riley’s tire while Lizbeth Parker pumped her for more details.

Okay, this probably sounded stupid. Riley shrugged as she finished. “It was too late to cancel the venue.”

“This will make such an inspiring story,” Lizbeth gushed. “Can I take your picture? I just happen to have my camera in the car.”

Why not? Practically everyone in town knew she’d been dumped and was now a non-bride. If her story could inspire someone else who’d gotten her heart broken, why not? “Sure.”

Lizbeth hurried to grab her camera. “Stay where you are by the tire,” she told Officer Knight. “Let’s get you in the picture, too.”

He shook his head but cooperated. After all, this kind of thing was good publicity for the police department.

“This is really impressive,” Lizbeth said after she’d finished with her shots. “I bet that party’s going to be something else.”

Hint, hint. “Would you like to come?” Riley asked.

Lizbeth smiled. “Would I? Oh, yeah. You’re going to be a local hero by the time I’m done with you,” she promised.

That would be a change from Lizbeth’s last write-up on her, but Riley didn’t care about being a local hero. She just wanted to have a good time tonight and provide a fun evening for a lot of other people, as well. The tire fixed she thanked Officer Knight, promised to throw the non-bridal bouquet in Lizbeth’s direction and then got in the car and finished her journey to the club.

The Olympic Room looked elegant and inviting with candles shimmering on linen-clad tables, crystal winking in the candlelight. There, in one corner of the room, sat her cake with its gold ribbon and red poinsettias, surrounded with more candles. Two buckets dressed up with ribbons and containing red carnations waited by the door, ready to go home with the guests when they left. The whole scene was fit for a fairy tale.

Without Prince Charming. Who needed him, anyway?

Sharla Green was there, checking everything off on her list. At the sight of Riley she hurried over. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Riley took a little spin, making her skirt flare out. “I feel beautiful.”

“I’m glad you went ahead with this,” Sharla said. “I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

“I will. I’m glad I didn’t cancel the party.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sharla said encouragingly. “Everything’s ready in the kitchen. If there’s anything you need, I’ll be around.”

Riley thanked her and then went over to the window to enjoy the view. Here it was, the big day, the day she’d been planning for so long, the day she’d thought was ruined. She did feel a moment of melancholy, but that was all she allowed herself. Things hadn’t worked out with Sean, but surely in the end it was for the best. If they’d been meant to be together, he’d never have left.

“Here’s our girl!”

She turned to see Mom and Dad and Grammy entering the room, coats over their wedding finery, all beaming at her. Mr. Right might have been all wrong, but you could survive that when you had such a loving family to fall back on. She hurried across the room and hugged them all.

“You are a vision,” Mom said. “Jo did a beautiful job of getting you ready.”

“You forgot one thing.” Grammy held out a small silver gift bag with spangled tissue paper peeking out of it.

It wasn’t hard to guess. “My garter?”

“I made it for you to wear. You may as well break it in tonight.”

Riley hugged her again. “You’re the best grandma ever.”

Grammy smiled. “I know. But we won’t tell that to the other grandma.”

Who had flown in from Arizona, along with her third husband. “I won’t,” Riley said.

“Give me your coats,” Dad said, “and I’ll take them to the coat check.”

While he went to get rid of their coats, Riley slipped on her garter.

“Hey, there are some things a brother doesn’t want to see,” called Harold, walking into the room, his wife beside him and their daughter, Caitlyn, bouncing ahead, adorable in her red velveteen flower girl dress.

Riley smiled and lowered her skirt then held out her arms to her niece, who ran to her gleefully. “Don’t you look pretty in your party dress.”

“I get to stay up late,” Caitlyn informed her.

“She’ll be buzzing with cake and mints, anyway, so what the heck,” said Harold, who came up and hugged Riley. “You look good, sis.”

“Better than good,” added his wife, hugging her, too.

“I feel better than good,” she said. “This is going to be fun.”

New guests arrived, cousins from Seattle, bearing gifts.

“Oh, no. No presents!” Riley exclaimed. “I thought Mom told you.”

“She did,” said Riley’s cousin Melanie, “but we figured you ought to at least get some cool stuff out of this.”

More guests came with more presents and the same attitude.

“I feel guilty,” Riley told her mother.

“Don’t,” Mom said. “Think of it as an early Christmas.”

Soon the room was full of people, some milling around visiting in groups, others finding their seats at the tables.

“This is quite the party,” Mrs. Wooster said, resplendent in a sequined gown resurrected from the early sixties and a purple boa. “I hope you’re going to toss the bouquet. I feel lucky.”

Jack and his grandma showed up next. “Aren’t you lovely!” exclaimed Margaret, taking Riley’s hands. “Isn’t she lovely, Jack?”

Jack looked her up and down appreciatively. “She sure is.”

Margaret leaned over and whispered in Riley’s ear, “You know, he’s not seeing anyone.”

It was rather a loud whisper and judging by the grin on Jack’s face, Riley knew he’d heard. She smiled back at him and said, “What a coincidence. I’m not, either.”

“Yeah, what a coincidence,” he said, and the look he gave her set her nerve endings tingling.

Grammy with her nose for potential romance joined them. “And who is this?”

Riley introduced Jack and his grandma, who was happy to tell Grammy the story of her life.

“A dancer. You’ll have to show me some of your moves on the dance floor,” Grammy said.

“This could get embarrassing,” Jack whispered. “You may be sorry you invited us.”

“I don’t think so,” she said and he smiled again.

“I’ll just have to distract you by dancing with you.”

That sounded like an excellent idea.

Noel entered a moment later, dazzling in her green velvet bridesmaid dress and towing a handsome, supersized man in a black tuxedo. The no-longer-evil house-flipper.

“This is Ben,” she told Riley, stating the obvious.

Ben seemed at a loss for words. Hardly surprising since he didn’t know her and here she was, a bride without a groom, running around in her wedding dress. He did manage a smile and a “Thanks for having me.”

“Thanks for coming. Any friend of Noel’s is a friend of mine.” If the look he and Noel exchanged was any indication, she wouldn’t be surprised if her friend beat her to the altar.

Seniors arrived by the busload. Literally. Riley felt a rush of happiness as she saw the delighted expressions on so many faces.

“This is quite the shindig,” Grammy’s friend Felix said to her. “I hope I’m going to get a chance to dance with the bride.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Riley told him.

Soon the tables were filled with celebrants all dressed to the nines, and Riley sat at the head table with her parents and sister and brother and their spouses. Baby Mikey was at home, safe from germs, with Georgia watching over him. Riley suspected Jo wouldn’t stay long, but she was grateful to have her here, even if it was just for a little while. The way she and Mike were smiling at each other and holding hands, they could have been the bride and groom at this party.

Lizbeth Parker had made it, too, and was present with her photographer, who snapped pictures while she interviewed the various guests. She stopped by Riley’s table and interviewed Mom and Dad and Harold and Grammy.

Then Lizbeth approached Jo, who shook her head and refused to comment, saying only, “You’ll hear what I have to say soon enough.”

Soon enough came after dinner and before the cutting of the cake. Jo had already informed both the bride and the stand-in maid of honor that she was going to give the toast. “I claim the right as sister and almost matron of honor, which I would have been if I hadn’t gotten pregnant.”

She’d said it with a smile and Noel had been more than happy to hand over that duty, confessing that the thought of having to give a speech in front of all those guests just about had her in hives.

So, after the meal was finished and the champagne for toasting had been poured, Jo took the microphone and took center stage. “Of course, you all know why we’re here. We’re celebrating the fact that my sister is still single. So if any of you handsome men are in the market...” She paused long enough for everyone to chuckle. “Seriously, it’s hard when you think you’ve got your life all figured out, when you’ve made plans and those plans don’t happen. When you think you’ve found the love of your life and it turns out that maybe he wasn’t, after all.”

Here was a cheery little speech. Riley’s eyes began to fill with tears.

“But that didn’t keep my sister down,” Jo continued. “She’s Helium Woman and she was born to rise above her circumstances. And she’s done that with grace and class. This may not have been the party she originally planned, but I’d say it’s still a raving success.”

“Hear, hear,” called out Grammy, and everyone cheered and applauded.

“So here’s to my sister, my hero. I can hardly wait to see who the real love of your life turns out to be. To Riley.”

The tears were spilling over, but these were the happy kind. Riley blew her sister a kiss as Jo saluted her with her champagne glass.

“To Riley,” everyone echoed.

The hero of the hour. Wow.

Not to be outdone, her brother took the microphone next. “As usual, my sister stole the words right out of my mouth,” he teased, looking in Jo’s direction. “But I want to add my two cents.” He turned to Riley. “You look great, sis. Next time we’re all doing this you’ll be with the right man. Whoever that will be, he’s gonna be one lucky son of a...gun,” he finished, seeing Mom’s warning frown. “You’re really something.”

“Amen to that,” called Grammy.

Her father was the last to speak. “No man likes to see his daughter suffer, and I know this has been hard on you, Riley. But as your sister said, you’ve risen above your circumstances and I couldn’t be more proud. We all are. We love you,” he finished and raised his glass to her and once again everyone applauded.

Who knew being rejected would turn out to be such a good thing? Except all these wonderful speeches were going to end up ruining her makeup.

She stood and grabbed the microphone before anyone else could catch speech fever. “Thanks, family, for those kind words. That’s enough already, though. You all are making my head swell. I threw this party because—what can I say?—I didn’t want to waste such a nice dinner.” Everyone chuckled and then she surprised herself by adding, “You know, I was so into planning the perfect wedding I almost forgot it’s more important to have the perfect life. You can’t do that if you’re with the wrong person. In fact, I’m not sure you can do that with any person if you’re not happy with yourself first. Well, tonight I’m pretty happy just being me, so I think I’m onto something.”

The crowd burst into applause, confirming that, yes, indeed, she was. Everyone was happy and her heart was full. Did it get any better than that?

Maybe it did when you included a groom. The right groom. But for now this was enough.

“I’m so glad you could all join me and I hope you have a wonderful time. We’ve got plenty of cake and lots of champagne and I want to see it all gone by the end of the night, so enjoy. Now, let’s dance.”

“I claim the first dance,” her father called out, walking out onto the floor to join her.

The DJ played “What a Wonderful World,” and as she smiled up at him she was struck by how true the words were. It really was a wonderful world when you lost the self-pity shades and opened your eyes to everything around you that was good.

“Looks like you’re doing okay,” Dad said.

She smiled. “I am. I’m going to be all right, Daddy.”

“I never doubted it,” he said.

The music ended, Dad bowed over her hand to much clapping and hooting, and Harold took his place as the DJ started the only other song she’d requested, Bruno Mars singing “I Want to Marry You.”

Most of the guests got it, but after the song was over Grammy approached her, very concerned. “What a thoughtless thing to play! You shouldn’t pay that man and I’m going to give him an earful.”

“It’s fine, Grammy,” Riley said. “I asked for it. It was a joke.”

Grammy frowned. “Some joke.”

“Okay, everyone,” the DJ said, “we’re going to do the Electric Slide.”

The staple of all weddings. Riley knew it would put a crowd on the dance floor. It did indeed, and many of them were from the senior center.

“That’s my song,” Grammy said and hurried to join the others.

Riley saw that Jack’s grandmother was out there, too, and once the music started she proved that she still had the moves even if they were slow, shimmying with her walker as the others moved around her. Grammy, queen of the senior center’s line dancers, was right next to her, and the two women exchanged smiles. Oh, yeah, we’re good.

When it was time to cut the cake she let her niece do the honors and feed her a bite.

After that, the DJ played “Better When I’m Dancin’” by Meghan Trainor and they all hit the dance floor again. Meanwhile, Lizbeth Parker made notes and her photographer happily recorded everything for posterity. Or at least for the Whispers section of the paper.

“Look at you,” Jack said when the music slowed down and he pulled her away from the cake and onto the dance floor. “You’re not exactly the picture of a jilted bride.”

“I’m having fun.”

“I can see that.” He drew her closer and started them swaying. “Me, too. This is the coolest non-wedding reception I’ve ever been to.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “How many have you been to?”

“None. But I can’t imagine anything being as good as this. You’ll have a hard time following it when it comes to the real thing.”

Her smile faltered slightly. “If there ever is a real thing.”

He lowered his face, kissing close and whispered, “There will be. Your brother was right. You really are something.” Then, before she could form a reply, he kissed her. What a kiss it was, hot enough to melt the frosting off her lips. “You taste like cake,” he said with a grin.

“That may be all the cake you get. It’s going fast.”

“Well, then, I’d better have a second helping.”

The second helping was even tastier than the first.

The dance ended and old Andy from the golf club was on hand to tap Jack on the shoulder. “Here, sonny, let someone with a little more experience show you how it’s done.” He spun Riley away and dipped her, and two of the older women standing nearby sighed.

“Don’t hog him all night, young lady,” said one.

They didn’t need to worry. Andy never got another chance, not with Jack monopolizing her.

The gang from the nursing home left around nine, and Riley sent all the women home with carnations. By ten o’clock many of the seniors were starting to wear out.

“It’s getting past my bedtime,” Mrs. Wooster said to Riley. “When are you going to throw the bouquet?”

“Right now,” Riley said and was glad she’d had the florist go ahead and make her a small bouquet of red roses.

The DJ made the announcement, and cousins and friends, including Noel, gathered for the time-honored custom. Grammy and Mrs. Wooster were both there, too, trying to nudge each other out of the way. With all their nudging, they missed the big moment and Noel caught it. Blushing furiously, she glanced at Ben Fordham.

So did Riley and she saw that he was smiling. It looked as if Noel was going to have a very merry Christmas.

Riley was beginning to suspect she was going to have a pretty good one, too. “Got your phone number from your grandma,” Jack said to her when he and his grandmother came to say goodbye. “Think we can arrange to run into each other again? Only without the cars.”

“I think that could be arranged,” she said, and he smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thank you for a lovely time, my dear,” Margaret said, taking both of Riley’s hands. “You’re a wonderful young woman and I hope we’ll be seeing more of you.”

“You will, Gram,” Jack said, winking at Riley.

Jo left, too, anxious to get home to the baby. “It was fun, sis. Don’t know how you’ll ever top this.”

“How about by having a groom next time?” Riley cracked.

“Good idea,” Jo said.

The party went on for another couple of hours, but after Jack left it all felt a bit anticlimactic. Once everyone had gone, the presents were loaded into her trunk and her backseat, as well as her parents’ trunk. Then she was driving home alone in her wedding gown and the sad realization hit that she was not going to get her wedding night or her honeymoon.

So she decided that on the first long weekend of the New Year, she’d book herself a short trip somewhere for a non-honeymoon, even if it meant digging out the old credit card. She’d find someplace affordable, some quaint B & B in Victoria, perhaps. She’d take the Victoria Clipper and go have high tea at the Empress Hotel. If Noel went with her they could split the cost. Or she could go to the ocean and storm-watch. Something. She’d do something.

Back at her apartment she took one last look at herself in the bedroom mirror and admired her finery. She’d had fun and she’d given a lot of pleasure to a lot of older people. All in all, a memorable evening.

What were Sean and Emily doing now?

She frowned at her reflection. “Who cares, right?”

Right.

Her phone rang at eight the next morning. “You’re in the Sunday edition!” Jo announced. “That reporter made you sound like a cross between Wonder Woman and Joan of Arc. And the pictures are great. You need to call her and ask for copies. Meanwhile, Mike’s out buying another paper for you. You’re probably in the online edition, too.”

Riley hurried to the little desk in the spare room where she kept her laptop and brought up the page. Sure enough, there she was in the Whispers section. The article was captioned Who Needs a Groom?

Riley grinned. Who, indeed?

Although she still wanted one, down the road. But next time she was going to be really sure. Any future groom would have to sign a contract. In blood.

Everyone at church was talking about the big bash, and when Riley stopped at Pineland afterward to pick up some rolls for dinner at her folks’, the checker could hardly stop gushing about how clever and brave she was.

“I just found out that my boyfriend cheated on me. I’m gonna kick his ass to the curb,” the woman said.

“Do it,” Riley told her. “You deserve better.” So did she and she was willing to wait for it.

The family was about to have dessert when Jack called.

“I bet I know who that is,” Jo said as Riley hurried away from the table.

“So, you had your non-wedding reception. I was thinking you might want to do something for your non-honeymoon.”

Sex.

They’d just met. Where had that come from? Oh, yeah, the whole honeymoon thing. You’re not in a hurry, she reminded herself and tried not to picture Jack and her checking into a honeymoon suite in some fancy hotel in Hawaii.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“I was thinking maybe dinner at La Rive Gauche Paris. You can pretend you’re in France.”

Ooh, la, la. “That sounds great.”

“They’re closed tomorrow night, so how about Tuesday?” Jack Logan didn’t waste any time.

She liked a man who was efficient. “I just happen to have Tuesday night free.”

They made their arrangements and she returned to the dining room.

“I know that smile,” Jo said, pointing at her. “Somebody’s got a date.”

Harold frowned. “Don’t you be rushing into anything, sis.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Define rushing.

* * *

Tuesday night, dressed in a black dress she’d borrowed from Jo and wearing Noel’s heels of death, she tottered into the fanciest and most expensive restaurant in town on the arm of Jack Logan. Fancy chandeliers and drapes, elegantly carved chairs gathered around linen-topped, candlelit tables. The whole place screamed, If you want to eat here, you’ll have to sell a child. The restaurant had been in business for two years but she’d never been inside it. Sean had certainly never taken her here.

“This is beautiful, but it looks expensive,” she said, feeling guilty about Jack spending so much money on a first date.

“It’s your honeymoon. You do stuff like this on your honeymoon,” he said.

The maître d’ seated them at a table for two in a quiet corner. Actually, the whole place was quiet. There were very few people here on a Tuesday evening.

The sommelier appeared and he and Jack consulted on wines and pairings. “What do you think?” Jack asked Riley.

She thought she was a long way from The Rusty Saw. “I think you know your way around a wine list. Carry on. That was impressive,” she told him after the sommelier had left.

“Was it?”

“You must come here a lot.”

“Never been here in my life. If you want to know the truth, The Rusty Saw and The Tree House are more my style.”

“Mine, too,” she said. “Still, this was really kind of you.”

“Not so much kind as trying to make a good impression. Improve my game from the first time we met,” he added with a grin. “Seriously, I wish I hadn’t been such a shit on our first encounter.”

“Our first two encounters,” she couldn’t resist saying.

“Not my shining hour. But you gotta admit, they were memorable.”

Memorable. Yes, they were.

“Like your party Saturday night. Too bad your ex didn’t get a chance to see you in your dress and get a look at what he missed.”

“Actually, he did,” Riley said and told him about her flat tire.

“Oh, man, that’s classic,” he said when she’d finished. “Guess I’m gonna have to go online and read all about it.”

Their wine arrived, along with the appetizers. She took one bite of artichoke tartlet and was in heaven. “I could get used to this.”

“What, being out with me?” he teased.

That, too.

As dinner progressed, so did their conversation. They covered everything from why he became a golf pro (“Love the sport but knew I’d never be bringing it at Pebble Beach. This is the next best thing.”) to what she wanted to do now that her life was wide-open again. (“Travel and see the world. Sean was so busy with the gym we had a hard time setting a date for our honeymoon.”)

“I hate to question your taste, since you’re out with me, but what did you ever see in that guy? He sounds like a real asshole,” Jack said around a mouth full of Duck à l’Orange.

Riley pushed away her plate. “You know, he’s really not. It’s been so easy to put all the blame on Sean, but if we were perfect together, we’d probably still be together.”

“Or not. Let’s stick with him being an asshole.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll drink to that,” she said and raised her wineglass in salute.

Dinner finished and the bill paid, Jack said, “Okay, ready for the next part of your honeymoon?”

Sex? She nodded.

“Let’s go, then,” he said and escorted her out of the restaurant.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he tooled his Hummer down Pine Street.

“To a sandy beach, of course.”

The sandy beach turned out to be the boat launch at the park. The wind was cold and mean, batting her hair in all directions and sneaking up her coat with icy fingers.

“Just like Hawaii,” she quipped as he pulled her close for warmth.

“Okay, some ideas are better in your head than in real life,” he admitted.

“How about you come back to my apartment and warm up with some hot buttered rum? And cookies. Did I mention that I like to bake?”

“No kidding. Did I mention that I like to eat?”

Back at the apartment she made them both drinks and put some cookies on a plate. Then she turned on her electric fireplace and they relaxed on the couch. “Did anyone tell you this is fake?” he joked, pointing at it.

She shrugged. “It’s better than nothing.” She stared at the faux flame and wondered if that was how she’d wound up with Sean. He’d looked like the right man for her, but really, they hadn’t had all that much in common. Had she settled? Had he? She looked at Jack. “I seem to settle for less quite a lot. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“I don’t think you should. At least find someone who wants to get away for a weekend,” he added with a smile.

“Or for a non-honeymoon. Thank you for a wonderful one tonight.”

He set down his mug and began playing with a lock of her hair, which started a fluttering in her chest. “Honeymoons usually last more than one day. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Making you dinner.”

“I could go for that,” he said. “I could go for you. But then, you’ve already figured that out, haven’t you?”

Suddenly shy, she focused on the plate of cookies sitting on the coffee table. How many cookies will Riley and Jack eat before Jack kisses her?

None! Merrrry Christmas.