1022 Evergreen Place - Debbie Macomber [4]
Mack nodded. “If you do see him, call me and I’ll deal with him.” As soon as the words were out, Mack wished he could take them back. The whole point of breaking off the engagement was to let Mary Jo solve her own problems.
Instead of responding, she occupied herself with rearranging Noelle’s blanket.
Mack rocked back on his heels and removed his hands from his pockets. He wanted to groan. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? “I guess I should check the mail,” he said with a sigh. He’d just headed over to the mailbox when Mary Jo called him back.
“I learned something about those letters.”
“Letters?” Mack asked in confusion.
“The ones I found under the floorboards in the closet.”
That box of World War II letters had completely slipped his mind. “Tell me,” he said quickly.
“I’d rather show you.”
“Okay.”
“Would you like to come by for dinner?” she asked. She bit her lip, as if she wasn’t confident that inviting him was such a good plan, after all. “I don’t want you to feel any obligation….”
“No, I want to,” he said with more enthusiasm than he’d intended. “I mean, if you’re sure about having me over.”
“I am.”
Mack checked his watch. “It’s quarter after six now. Shall we say in an hour?”
“An hour,” she agreed.
His spirits lifted. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything the way he’d feared. “See you then,” he said with a relieved smile.
“Okay.” She smiled back, and he felt a sudden hopefulness.
Not until he was on his porch steps did it occur to him to ask if there was anything he could contribute. A salad? No, wine was probably better. He turned and, to his surprise, found Mary Jo watching him. Looking guilty, she glanced away.
“What can I bring?” he asked. “For dinner.”
She gave a half shrug. “I’ve got chicken-and-vegetable stew in the Crock-Pot and I’m making biscuits. I can’t think of anything else.”
“How about a bottle of wine?” When she nodded, he said, “See you around seven.”
After collecting the mail, Mack let himself into his side of the duplex, closed the door and breathed deeply. His sense of excitement was nearly overwhelming. In less than an hour he’d have a chance to make up for the foolish, clumsy way he’d ended the engagement—with a lie. He’d have a chance to start again, to reestablish their relationship on a more equal footing.
Fifteen minutes later, Mack had showered, shaved and changed clothes. He threw a load in the washing machine and set the dials. With another half hour to kill, he walked restlessly from room to room. This evening was important, and it could set the tone for many evenings to come.
In the past he’d often visited Mary Jo and Noelle. She’d regularly invited him over but not, he now suspected, out of any great desire for his company. Mary Jo was simply accustomed to having people around. Until recently she’d lived with her three older brothers.
She’d cooked for her family, although Mack knew they did their share of household chores. She was used to preparing meals for three hungry men; no wonder she always made enough to feed a family. So it was easy to invite an additional person, Mack told himself. She didn’t make extra with him in mind.
Not that he was complaining. Far from it. He liked spending time with her, being part of her life. Entertaining Noelle—that was his job most nights. He held and played with the baby while Mary Jo finished dinner preparations, and then later, they sat together and watched television or played cards. She had card sense, as his father would’ve put it. They talked, too, but not about anything deep or too personal. They’d talk about what they’d read or seen on TV, or mutual friends and acquaintances in Cedar Cove. Both were careful to avoid religion and politics, although he guessed they held similar views.
At the end of the evening, he’d kiss her good-night. After their so-called engagement, those kisses had become more brotherly than playful or passionate. That was what had initially convinced him the engagement was all wrong.
Considering the way David Rhodes had treated her, he understood that Mary Jo would be wary