The Satin Sash

Pointedly ignoring them, Toni kept her eyes on her own lane, trying not to consider the fact that she might be needing glasses to drive. All that time over her papers, the computer . . . not good for her eyes.

She absorbed the fancy car interior—shiny chrome, glossy wood, yummy- scented black leather. Turning on the radio, she scanned the stations until she found a favorite Madonna song playing, then cranked it to a loud blast and guided the sleek black car to her parents’ small home at Old Town. Every time she turned, the wheel slid inside her fingers like butter. She loved this little car.

Old Town was a curious neighborhood, its architecture ranging from cozy cottages to modern high- rise buildings. Her parents’ home was among the smaller ones, but with its green lawn and baskets of flowers flanking the front door,Toni thought it was the most inviting. Or maybe it was just her childhood memories that made it seem so inviting.The corner stand where she and Janice, aka Pippi Longstocking, had sold lemonade to their neighbors. Planting her very first tree, the top of which she could no longer see, it had overgrown the house so fast.

Finding a spot for the Porsche under that tree, she parked and strolled into the two-story brick home.The scent of baking cookies expanded her lungs. Mouth watering, she followed the familiar sound of her mother’s humming down a narrow, shadowed hall and into the brightly lit kitchen.

“What’s for dinner?”

The slim, silvering woman by the oven jumped in fright. “Antonia, you scared me to death!”

Laughing because her mother never called her Antonia unless she was serious,Toni snatched up a thick glove and helped her pull out the cookie sheet, setting it atop the stove. She tried plucking one up, but her mom slapped her hand. “Hot! And wait until after dinner.”

Toni groaned and moved over to her customary position at the kitchen island to help chop the vegetables.

She hadn’t yet positioned the tomato, and Mom was already telling her all about her friends’ daughters who were getting married, had gotten married, or were happily expecting, and Toni frowned down at the cutting board, knowing what was to come.

“So how are you and Grey?”

Yes. There it was. She stifled a moan and sliced. “Fine, Mom. How are you and Dad?”

“Well, you know your father. Got that crazy hunting thing in his head. I swear if I’d known he was going to start killing all these animals, I’d never have married him.”

Keeping her hands busy, her mom moved around the kitchen island.The place was bright and cluttered, with colored pots hanging from the ceiling. Mom’s knitting sat in a nearby basket, her gossip magazines tucked into a corner.

“So when are you and Grey going to tie the knot?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

Toni sighed drearily, her temples beginning to throb. She had to set the knife down and rub. “We’ve talked about this, Mom.”

“And I’m sure any day now you’ll both change your minds.”

“If two people love each other, they don’t need papers to stay together,” she mumbled.

“Hell, yes, you do.” Appearing through the door, her father smacked her cheek with a sloppy kiss; then the large, rowdy man proceeded to investigate the food they were preparing.“I love your mother, but she can drive a man so crazy, I’d be long gone if divorce weren’t such trouble.”

“See.” Her mother beamed, oblivious to having been just insulted.

Toni should have stayed home and tried to tackle the Viscevis logo.

And her mother went on, because, really, there was no stopping that woman once she was on a roll.

And Dad was on her side now.

“Sweetheart, when you find The One, the most natural thing to a woman is to want to secure him. Especially a man like yours. Daddy and I love Grey, darling, but those men just aren’t long- term. They’re too exposed to temptation.All that money and the women and the power. First wrong step you make, sweetie, and that man is out the door. After all, what’s holding him back?”

“There’s me,” she said in an unsteady mumble. Did he care for her enough? Would he stop caring one day? Maybe he just thought he felt something but wasn’t certain enough to tell her.Why didn’t he ever say it?

And Mom worried that Grey was too much for Toni. Grey knew people her parents could only read about in magazines. His name was among the most influential in the city, while the Kearnys were simple people.

Her father had been manager of a small air- conditioning business for fifteen years; her mother a caring, loveable woman dedicated to her home.They did not have servants or jets or houses in Marrakech and Mexico. And their daughter was no Miss Universe either. Though why they thought Grey wanted one, Toni had no clue. Stereotypes, maybe.

“If Grey walks out on our Toni, he’s a fool. I still wish you’d ever looked at me with those moon eyes she gives that man.”

Her mother’s scowl was murderous as she swiveled round. “Just maybe, Homer, you should think of what to do to deserve those moon eyes. I see no fancy sports car in our garage,” she argued. “Plus, Grey can never keep his hands off her, and I haven’t gotten even a morning kiss lately.”

Eyes twinkling, he squeezed her mother’s rump, and his hand got a slap for its daring.

“As I was saying,Toni,” her mother continued, a blush tinting in her cheeks, “if you want to keep him—”