Ross, right?”
She shook her head. He’d said something wrong, something that made her sad, though he wasn’t sure what. But then, he knew better than most people that sometimes innocent questions about family could be as wounding as daggers. Hoping to chase the shadows from her eyes, he said, “There’s nothing like a good barbecue to celebrate Independence Day.”
He was relieved when Elizabeth’s smile reappeared. “You don’t know my parents,” she said wryly.
No. Thomas didn’t. He’d always made it a point not to meet the parents of any of the women he spent time with. He didn’t worry about passing parental inspection. Rather, he knew the signal it would send to the other party. Meeting the parents made even the most casual relationship seem serious, at least where the marriage-minded were concerned.
Oddly, he found himself wanting to meet Elizabeth’s, even—or maybe especially—after she asked, “Have you ever had tofu shish kebabs?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“It’s an acquired taste, believe me. The same can be said for soy-and-kelp burgers on unleavened bread.”
“Soy and kelp, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope you’re not too bored with Nana Jo’s tame cooking. I think the most exotic recipe in her repertoire is fried green tomatoes. She started making them after she saw the movie of the same name.”
“I’m nothing like my parents,” she replied hastily, giving Thomas the impression that, just as he was, she was eager to ensure that the apple fell far from the tree and then kept right on rolling.
Elizabeth invited him inside while she packed her bag. Howie wasn’t there. Mel had taken him back to her town house. If the dog were there, Thomas had little doubt it would be growling menacingly. It was if the hound knew that something about his owner’s relationship with Thomas wasn’t all it seemed to be.
Thomas paced the living room. His gaze kept straying to the love seat, specifically to the arm where he’d sat the other evening while he and Elizabeth had eagerly started helping one another out of their clothes. Sanity had prevailed, but he’d been going crazy ever since. After fifteen of the longest minutes of his life, Elizabeth finally emerged with a small carry-on-sized suitcase in hand.
“You really do pack light.”
She shrugged. “A couple pairs of walking shorts, two shirts and nightclothes don’t take up much room. You didn’t specify a dress code.”
She sounded defiant.
“There isn’t one. My grandmother is pretty laid-back.” He pointed toward the bag. “A bathing suit might come in handy. There’s a nice stretch of beach nearby.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I burn easily.”
And blushed easily, too, he noted.
“Well, I brought mine, but suit yourself.” He took her bag. “Ready?”
In answer, she started for the front door, which she carefully locked behind them. Then they were on their way, heading toward the interstate in his car as Bruce Springsteen belted out “Born in the U.S.A.” on the radio.
For better or for worse, there was no turning back now.
ELIZABETH hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but a little over two hours into their trip she dozed off. Before then she and Thomas hadn’t spoken much, other than to comment on the good weather—forecasters were calling for sunshine and warm temperatures through the early part of the following week—and go over a few details of the visit.
She missed their easy conversation, but keeping things all business was for the best. The lines of their relationship weren’t likely to become too blurry that way. So, she’d pulled out a magazine she’d brought with her and made a point of reading it. Or, rather, pretending to read it. Now that she was awake, she couldn’t recall a single article.
She straightened in her seat and stretched before sending a sheepish smile Thomas’s way.
“Sorry about that. I guess I drifted off.”
“That’s all right. You only snored a little.” He winked after saying so. She could only hope he was kidding.
“Where are we?”
“About fifteen minutes south of Charlevoix. I thought we’d visit with my grandmother a bit before checking in at the bed-and-breakfast where we’ll be staying.”
In separate rooms. He’d made that clear after she’d made a point of asking him about it via email. Still, they would be under the same roof and that was enough to have her nerves and newfound needs percolating on high.
Elizabeth had never been to Charlevoix. Though her family had moved around a lot during her childhood, they’d done so mainly in the much more populated southern part of the state. So, she stared out the window as they made their way down Bridge Street with its quaint assortment of shops and eateries, acting the part of the tourist. Thomas indulged her, pointing out a fudge shop and other sights of interest, and giving her some background. The vast expanse of Lake Michigan stretched to the west of the town. The much smaller Lake Charlevoix was to the east.
“It’s pretty here.”
“It is. Nana Jo likes it, even though the winters can be harsh.”
“She stays here year-round?”
“Yes.” He chuckled then. “She’s quite adamant that she’ll never become one of those snowbirds who flies to Florida before the first snowflake falls. She and my late grandfather had always planned to retire here. He died when I was six. Heart attack. She was still set on moving to Charlevoix eventually. She was already looking at places at the time of the accident. Then she put everything on hold.”
For him.
“Sorry about your grandfather,” Elizabeth murmured. Josephine O’Keefe had lost her husband and only child in the span of two years. It wasn’t only pity Elizabeth felt for the other woman, but admiration. She’d rolled up her sleeves and put her own plans on hold to raise a young, equally grief-stricken boy. “Your grandmother sounds like an amazing woman.”
Thomas glanced over. His hand left the steering wheel to give hers a gentle squeeze. “She is. You’re going to like her.”
Elizabeth didn’t need his reassurance. She already did, and it was a realization that made her all the more uneasy.
Nana Jo lived in a condominium complex not far from downtown, but only a short distance from the lake.
“Well, this is it,” Thomas said, pulling into the parking lot. He sounded every bit as nervous as Elizabeth felt when he asked, “Ready?”
“As I’m ever going to be,” she murmured.
She opened the car door before he had a chance to come around and do it for her, earning a frown. The day was warm, a fact the automobile’s air-conditioning had done a good job of camouflaging. The sun’s heat
