so that part was true. No, it hadn’t convinced him to propose for real. But sitting across from the podiatrist, not enjoying himself in the slightest, had made him think about Josie Tate. It had inspired the idea to solve both her housing problem and his mother problem by suggesting the fake engagement.
“So you left my podiatrist and went and asked this other girl to marry you?” his mother said.
“I didn’t just leave your podiatrist. I took her home. But then I went to Josie’s place and… Well, we’re engaged and she’s moving in today.”
Elsa’s eyebrows arched at that. “Two weeks is all you’ve known this girl and you’re engaged and she’s moving in with you?”
“That’s right.”
His mother pushed her nearly empty plate away and seemed to mull that over before she said, “You’re serious? You’re getting married?”
“Not anytime soon,” Michael was quick to say. Maybe too quick. “I mean, we’ve fallen head over heels but we did just meet. We want to take some time to really get to know each other before we actually get married. A long engagement—that’s what she wants, that’s what I want.”
“I don’t think you should count on that. If this girl works every day with mothers-to-be and new babies, she’s bound to start wanting a baby of her own.”
There was a note of optimism in his mother’s tone that let him know she was not only coming to believe him but that she was beginning to warm to the idea of his whirlwind romance.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. If we come to it,” Michael said. “For now, we both just want to settle in together and honestly get to know each other.”
“And she’s a good girl? Not some fly-by-night who’s taking advantage of you or will disappear with your credit card and your furniture while you’re at work?”
“Sharon McKinty introduced us and you arranged the date with her,” Michael pointed out.
“Did Sharon vouch for her?”
“Sharon vouched for us both—she told Josie that I’m a stand-up guy from a good family with a mother who has big hair—”
“I don’t have big hair. I have a lot of hair.” Elsa defended herself from his teasing.
“Uh-huh,” Michael said sarcastically before he continued. “And Sharon told me that Josie is the best roommate she’s ever had, that she’s the kind of person who takes in stray animals, donates blood, volunteers at the soup kitchen, brings coffee to the homeless guy on the corner every morning, and would give her last dime away if she thought somebody needed it more than she did. I don’t think I have to worry about her running off with my furniture or my credit card.”
“And you love her and she loves you?”
That one made him very uncomfortable. “We got engaged last night, didn’t we?” he said as if that was answer enough.
Apparently it was because his mother said, “It must have been love at first sight.”
Certainly it had been attraction at first sight. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off Josie that night at the bar. In fact, he’d been almost mesmerized by her. But that wasn’t important now. Now they were only going to be roommates and friends—that was something he needed not to forget.
“When do I get to meet her?” his mother asked then, finally sounding convinced and happy about the fact that Michael had found someone.
“Maybe in a day or two. Let’s let her get moved in and—”
“Tomorrow,” Elsa decreed. “We’ll have dinner. I’ll cook.”
“I’d need to check with Josie. I don’t want you giving her the bum’s rush, Ma. She’ll be around a long time.”
“I have to meet the girl who’s going to be my daughter-in-law, don’t I?”
“You will. Believe me, you will.”
“Tomorrow. See if we can meet tomorrow,” Elsa insisted forcefully.
Michael took a deep breath and sighed it out with resignation. His mother was nothing if not persistent. And pushy. Which was why, he reminded himself, he’d felt the need to concoct this plan in the first place.
But that still didn’t keep him from feeling guilty for perpetrating this sham on her.
He just didn’t know what else to do to get her to back off.
“Tomorrow,” he conceded. “I’ll see if you can meet Josie tomorrow.”
Elsa sat back in her chair, looking pleased. “Good. Tomorrow night for dinner,” she said with as much finality as if Michael had agreed to it.
“I don’t know about a whole meal. Why don’t I just bring her by for a few minutes the first time?”
It was as if Elsa hadn’t heard him. “Dinner here at seven,” she dictated. “I’ll even get wine.”
His mother got up and went to the drawer beside the sink where she took out a tablet and a pen and began to make a list that Michael had no doubt was for groceries she would go to the store and buy before the day was over in spite of everything he’d said about checking with Josie first.
But he knew better than to waste any more effort on trying to slow the runaway train that was his mother. And as he stood and started to clear the table all he could think was, You don’t have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Josie Tate….
He just hoped she really was as easygoing as he’d said she was, as easygoing as she’d seemed.
Because it was the only way she was likely to get through this.
It was seven o’clock Sunday evening before Josie was completely loaded up and ready to go. The trunk and rear seat of her small vintage sedan were crammed full of her clothes and belongings, and Pip was sitting regally in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, patiently awaiting his ride while she said goodbye to Sharon.
“You’re sure about this?” asked the only one of her three roommates she was close to.
“Hey, I spent a whole weekend with this guy on your say-so that he wasn’t a psycho,” Josie joked. “Are you telling me now that he is?”
“No. For the two years I’ve worked for his mother’s insurance carrier, I’ve been listening to the woman brag about him and he’s anything but a psycho. He’s a decorated firefighter and I think the Boy Scouts gave him some kind of award, too. If I hadn’t met up with T.J. that night and he hadn’t apologized, I might have given Michael Dunnigan a go-round myself. But just because he’s not a psycho doesn’t mean you should be moving into his place and pretending to be engaged to him.”
“Remember, don’t blow this if you talk to his mother,” Josie warned, wondering if she should have been quite so honest with her friend.
“Believe me, his mother does all the talking,” Sharon assured her. “But still,
