204 Rosewood Lane - Debbie Macomber [41]
He rang the doorbell and waited.
The next millennium came and went before Olivia opened the door. She held the phone to her ear, but when she saw it was Jack, she smiled, unlatched the screen door and gestured him inside, still talking.
“I’m sorry Marge can’t make it, Stan, but I’m sure Justine will understand.”
Ah, so she was speaking to her ex-husband. Jack had met Stan several months earlier, just before he’d gotten serious about Olivia. Her ex was a pompous SOB as far as Jack was concerned.
“Can you get here before three?” She smiled apologetically at Jack, who sat down on the sofa.
“Of course your aunt Louise is invited.” She rolled her eyes and made a wind-it-up motion with her hand, as though eager to get her ex off the line. “I have to go—I have company…Jack. You remember Jack, don’t you? You don’t?”
Liar, Jack thought. Her ex knew exactly who he was.
She laughed, but Jack couldn’t tell what was so funny. No doubt old Stan had made some derogatory remark about him.
“I have to go, Stan,” she said again, a little more loudly this time. “I’ll see you next weekend with your aunt Louise. Give Marge my best. Bye.”
A second later, she clicked the off button on the portable phone and sank onto the sofa next to Jack. “Were we supposed to meet this afternoon?”
“Ah…no, but I hadn’t seen you in a while. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too. I swear this reception is going to be the death of me. But Justine’s my only daughter and I want it to be perfect for her and Seth. She frowned slightly. “You did get the invitation, didn’t you?”
Jack nodded. He was beginning to feel better already. “You look worn-out,” he told her. Maybe she’d noticed that he was emotionally spent himself, but he didn’t plan to drag Eric into the conversation. This was about him and Olivia, not their families or their obligations.
“I am worn-out,” she agreed. “I can’t believe how much time and organization a simple wedding reception requires. I hope both you and Eric will come.”
It felt good to be invited. “If you want.”
“Of course I want you there. I’m going to need all the moral support I can get.” The phone in her hand rang and she pushed the talk button and raised the receiver to her ear. “Mom, sorry, I’m on my way. Yes, yes, tell the caterers I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She clicked off the phone, then leapt up from the sofa and started toward the kitchen.
“You’re busy.” Jack stood, thinking it would be best if he left.
“I’m sorry, Jack.” She turned abruptly to face him. “Can we meet later?”
His heart sank. “I’m covering a school board meeting tonight.”
She nodded, although he doubted she’d heard him.
“Wait,” he said, and took her by the shoulders.
She seemed mildly startled but smiled when she realized he intended to kiss her. Her arms slipped around his neck and she met his mouth with her own.
Slowly, after their kiss had ended, he eased his mouth from hers. “I needed that.”
All too briefly, she pressed her head to his shoulder. “So did I.”
Justine was exhausted but jubilant as she held open the apartment door while Seth unloaded the last of the wedding gifts from the car. The reception had been wonderful—she couldn’t believe her mother and grandmother had pulled it off. The entire afternoon had been as close to perfect as she could imagine. The food was incredible, the music lovely, the atmosphere festive. She’d met Seth’s relatives and he’d met all of hers. His were easy to locate in a crowd; they were the big, husky, outgoing Swedes, while hers were comparatively restrained and tended to group together.
“I don’t know how Mom and Grandma did it,” Justine said, sitting down on the pale blue sofa and propping her feet on the matching footstool. “I think this was the most magical day of my life, other than our wedding day, of course.” She found their elopement wildly romantic.
Seth sat beside her and leaned his head against the sofa back. His large feet, crossed at the ankles, joined hers on the footstool. He seemed as exhausted as Justine.
“I feel so spoiled,” she whispered.
Seth