“I have patients at two. I think it’s time to eat.”
Raina gratefully nodded and dug into the picnic basket she’d picked up at Norman’s.
“So tell me what other schemes you’ve got going on,” Eric said as he began to eat.
“You heard about Bridge Night, didn’t you?” One night a month, Raina insisted the women shop at Charlotte’s Attic instead of playing bridge. Ladies’ night out, she called it.
He laughed. “Of course I heard. You’ve made it your mission to help Charlotte succeed.” He gestured over the lawn, to Charlotte’s Attic across the street.
Raina shrugged. “Why not? I always liked the girl.”
“Mothering again,” Eric said between bites. Raina frowned at him and would have said more, but he softened his words with an admiring smile. “Come with me to the St. Patrick’s Day dance Friday night.”
He’d never asked her out before. Never offered to accompany her anywhere unless they were in a group. Babysitting the widow, she called it, and nobody had ever disagreed. Eric’s wife had been gone three years now and he’d thrown himself into his work, so his invitation surprised her.
“I’d like to go, but the boys will be there, and—”
“They might think you’re healthy, heaven forbid?”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “Something like that.”
“I’ll have to prescribe a night out, then.”
His eyes twinkled, and she had to admit she was tempted. Not just by his offer, but by him. “Who’s doing the babysitting this time?” She needed clarification. Was she going with him as his date, or was he just seeking to get an old friend out of the house?
He met her gaze with a steady, assessing stare. “Nobody’s babysitting. We’re going on a date.”
“Then I’d be delighted.” The butterflies picked up rhythm once more and this time Raina not only recognized the passionate sensation, but she welcomed the feeling.
* * *
Three days after Roman had visited her shop, Charlotte still hadn’t been able to shake him from her thoughts. In her dreams, she knew better than to try. But during the day, when the shop bell chimed, her stomach fluttered at the possibility he might walk back in. If the phone rang, her pulse skipped, thinking she’d hear his deep voice on the other end.
“Pathetic,” she muttered. She needed to stop thinking about Roman.
She parallel parked at the curb across from her mother’s house. Visiting Annie was a weekly ritual. When Charlotte had moved back to town, she’d already been on her own too long to live with her mother, and besides, she hadn’t wanted to fall into the depression and frustration caused by living with Annie and her irrational hopes and dreams.
But she refused to let her mother depress her today, for she was determined to keep her mood as bright as the day. The sun shone in the clear blue sky and spring fever had her floating. And she’d keep floating if she didn’t think about how tonight she’d be at the town hall dance, inhaling the smell of corned beef hash and listening to town gossip, instead of on a real date with Roman Chandler. A girl had to make smart choices and she’d made hers.
Charlotte pushed the doorbell once more, not wanting to use her key and scare her mother or have her think Russell had returned. Annie had never changed her locks and never would. She lived in an eternal state of limbo.
Finally the door to the old house swung open wide and her mother stood in her housecoat. “Charlotte!”
“Morning, Mom.” She drew her mother into a huge hug before entering.
The house smelled stuffy, as if the windows hadn’t been cracked open to enjoy the early spring weather, and her mother looked as if she planned to spend her one weekday off work inside. Again.
“Don’t you have to be at the store?” Annie asked.
Charlotte glanced at her watch. “I do, but Beth can open for me. As a matter of fact, Beth can handle things until later.” An inspired idea struck Charlotte. She’d wanted a day out, and now she had the perfect idea for them both. “Get dressed,” she told her mother. “We’re going to have a mother-daughter morning.” While she spoke, she prodded her mother up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’ll bet Lu Anne can fit us in for hair and nails. We’ll buy outfits for tonight’s St. Patrick’s Day dance, and then we’ll go to Norman’s for lunch. My treat.”
Her mother glanced around the darkened room. “Well, I wasn’t planning on going tonight, and as for leaving the house today …” She trailed off.
“No excuses.” Charlotte snapped up the shades, letting light in. “We’re going to have fun and enjoy.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And I’m not taking no for an answer, so get dressed.”
While Charlotte wondered what she’d have done if Roman stormed her fortresses this way, to her surprise, her mother blinked and complied, sans argument. Half an hour later, they sat in Lu Anne’s Locks, a salon owned by another mother-daughter team. Lu Anne handled the blue-haired ladies’ style and sets, while her daughter, Pam, took care of the funky teens and more style-conscious women.