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Not helpful, but she didn’t want him twisting himself into a pretzel just because she was being neurotic. She and Galen had never even gone on a date, so why was she freaking out like this? A few kisses didn’t mean anything.
And yet…somehow they did.
“You’re over thirty,” Granny lectured her as they carefully peeled the hard-boiled eggs for the deviled eggs. Her mother was taking her time getting ready in the upstairs master bedroom, which was usually Brenda’s, but she always gave it over to her mother when she visited. “Why do you care what she thinks about anything? She’s impossible to please and always has been. Even as a little girl, she turned up her nose at my cooking.”
“I don’t know!” Brenda groaned at her own absurd behavior. “When she’s here, it’s like a chemical reaction that I can’t control at all. It just happens. I freak out and worry about every little thing.”
“Well, if you want to know why I invited Galen, it’s this. There’s no chance at all that she’ll approve of him, so you don’t need to try so hard. You can relax, darling girl.” She scooped a handful of eggshells into the garbage disposal.
“That’s your master plan?”
“It’s liberating, right?”
As Brenda tried to answer, she flicked the garbage disposal button and it roared into action.
When it stopped, Brenda said, “Actually—” Only to get cut off by another round of garbage disposing.
She gave up and began scooping out the yolks to make the filling. The entire menu was finger food because apparently that was a new trend in her mother’s social circle. Everything they planned to serve could be eaten with one hand, including the mini-cupcakes they were making for dessert.
“It allows for more variety,” Mom had explained grandiosely. “You can eat a little of many things without the calories adding up so much.”
Of course that meant they had to make many things. Once her mother had realized that they didn’t have a local Trader Joe’s or the equivalent, and that last-minute caterers weren’t a thing in Lake Bittersweet, they’d all swung into action. Mini crostini with tomatoes and basil, tiny squares of spanakopita, mini-sandwiches with deviled ham, wedges of watermelon, grapes, pickles. They’d basically bought out Lake Bittersweet’s entire supply of toothpicks.
By the time evening rolled around, Brenda was exhausted. She dragged herself upstairs to shower and change. This was going to be a disaster, she could already sense it. All that miniature food would never be enough to feed a guy like Galen. She could already picture his confusion as he tried to balance a little china plate on his knee.
Once he got the full McMurray family experience, he might never want to see her again. If her father had come, it might be different, since there’d be another man present. But not really; her mother was the one who mattered. Her father’s role in their lives was basically to provide the money and built-in social connections. Mom generally took it from there.
And what would Mom make of Galen?
She couldn’t bear to think about it. But what scared her even more was what she might say or do to Galen. He could be a sensitive soul. That was why he hid behind that beard. On the other hand, her mother could be obliviously ruthless. Her tongue was a deadly weapon of precision confidence-shredding.
Since she didn’t want Galen to be in Mom’s sights, she’d been very careful to make clear that she and Galen were not dating. The only reason he was invited was because he’d helped CeCe transition from the nursing home.
The doorbell rang while she was still getting dressed. She cursed out loud. Poor Galen. He’d be facing her mother and grandmother on his own. Crap, crap. She clawed at the zipper on the back of her dress, nearly dislocating a shoulder to get it zipped up. She’d chosen a simple sapphire blue dress that was just a few inches short of boring. Black tights and half-boots completed the outfit. She left her hair loose, but parted on the side and swept it over one shoulder. Simple, but actually quite sexy. Tonight, only her underwear was pink.
Quickly, she swiped on some lip gloss and mascara. Here in Lake Bittersweet, she’d gotten out of the habit of wearing makeup. Would Galen even recognize her? He might be in for a shock.
Then again, that shock would be nothing compared to that of her mother when she first saw Galen. Turned out, she was actually looking forward to that. Mom should learn not to be so judgmental.
After setting up the doggie gate to keep Olaf in the guest room, she trotted downstairs, she heard the sound of pleasantly chatting voices, including one that was low and male, belonging to Galen. Then came her grandmother’s sassy voice. Hopefully she was welcoming Galen properly while Mom waited in the living room.
And then she heard her mother join the convo with a laugh.
She knew that laugh. Laney McMurray Abercrombie had a number of laughs in her repertoire, starting with the genuine article, which was more of a snort, and progressing to the flattery-laugh she used with Dad’s colleagues. Other versions could be various shades of cutting, dismissive or scornful.
This particular laugh was the social one she used at cocktail parties when she was chatting with someone she considered worth impressing.
Amazed, Brenda skipped down the last few steps and rounded the corner to the foyer. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of a stranger talking to her mother and grandmother. He was one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen, almost intimidatingly so. Those stunning dark features belonged in an ad for a high-end Italian watch that only celebrities wore. Slashing black eyebrows, eyes filled with light, a squared-off jaw, full lips that might have been carved by a sculptor. The only flaw was a redness around the jaw, as if he’d reacted badly to his aftershave.
And then there was his physique. His sleek cashmere sweater clung to his muscles. Was that a Luca Faloni sweater? She didn’t know labels as well as Mom did, but judging by her mother’s party-laugh, it could be. His trousers were also black, with a subtle charcoal plaid pattern that not every guy would be able to pull off. Those expensive-looking clothes set off a body that would make any woman look twice. Powerful thighs, compact muscles, strong arms.
Calloused hands.
Light-filled eyes.
Wait a second.
Even though she’d been knocked breathless by this stranger’s looks, the pieces slowly fell into place.
