open and a soft, feminine voice purred his name. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Danielle, I’d like you to meet Ellen.”
“Hello.” Ellen resisted the urge to kick Reed. If he was going to introduce her to his friend, the least he could have done was waited until she looked a little more presentable. Just as she’d figured, Danielle was beautiful. No, the word was gorgeous. She wore a cute pale blue tennis outfit with a short, pleated skirt. A dark blue silk scarf held back the curly cascade of long blond hair—Ellen should have known the other woman would be blonde. Naturally, Danielle possessed a trim waist, perfect legs and blue eyes to match the heavens. She’d apparently just finished playing golf or tennis with Reed, but she still looked cool and elegant.
“I feel as though I already know you,” Danielle was saying with a pleasant smile. “Reed told me how much help you were with the children.”
“It was nothing, really.” Embarrassed by her ridiculous outfit, Ellen tried to conceal as much of it as possible by grabbing the electrical repair book and clasping it to her stomach.
“Not according to Reed.” Danielle slipped her arm around his and smiled adoringly up at him. “Unfortunately, I came down with a terrible headache.”
“Danielle doesn’t have your knack with young children,” Reed said.
“If we decide to have our own, things will be different,” Danielle continued sweetly. “But I’m not convinced I’m the maternal type.”
Ellen sent the couple a wan smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go change my clothes.”
“Of course. It was nice meeting you, Elaine.”
“Ellen,” Reed and Ellen corrected simultaneously.
“You, too.” Gallantly, Ellen stifled the childish impulse to call the other woman Diane. As she turned and hurried up the stairs leading from the kitchen, she heard Danielle whisper that she didn’t mind at all if Ellen lived in Reed’s home. Of course not, Ellen muttered to herself. How could Danielle possibly be jealous?
Winded by the time she’d marched up both flights, Ellen walked into the tiny bedroom where she stored her clothes. She threw down the electrical manual and slammed the door shut. Then she sighed with despair as she saw her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door; it revealed baggy coveralls, a faded white T-shirt and smudges of dirt across her cheekbone. She struck a seductive pose with her hand on her hip and vampishly puffed up her hair. “Of course I don’t mind if sweet little Elaine lives here, darling,” she mimicked in a high-pitched falsely sweet voice.
Dropping her coveralls to the ground, Ellen gruffly kicked them aside. Hands on her hips, she glared at her reflection. Her figure was no less attractive than Danielle’s, and her face was pretty enough—even if she did say so herself. But Danielle had barely looked at Ellen and certainly hadn’t seen her as a potential rival.
As she brushed her hair away from her face, Ellen’s shoulders suddenly dropped. She was losing her mind! She liked living with the boys. Their arrangement was ideal, yet here she was, complaining bitterly because her presence hadn’t been challenged.
Carefully choosing a light pink blouse and denim skirt, Ellen told herself that Charlie, at least, would appreciate her. And for now, Ellen needed that. Her self-confidence had been shaken by Danielle’s casual acceptance of her role in Reed’s house. She didn’t like Danielle. But then, she hadn’t expected to.
* * *
“ELLEN.” HER NAME was followed by a loud pounding on the bedroom door. “Wake up! There’s a phone call for you.”
“Okay,” she mumbled into her pillow, still caught in the dregs of sleep. It felt so warm and cozy under the blankets that she didn’t want to stir. Charlie had taken her to dinner and a movie and they’d returned a little after ten. The boys had stayed in that evening, but Reed was out and Ellen didn’t need to ask with whom. She hadn’t heard him come home.
“Ellen!”
“I’m awake, I’m awake,” she grumbled, slipping one leg free of the covers and dangling it over the edge of the bed. The sudden cold that assailed her bare foot made her eyes flutter open in momentary shock.
“It’s long distance.”
Her eyes did open then. She knew only one person who could be calling. Her mother!
Hurriedly tossing the covers aside, she grabbed her housecoat and scurried out of the room. “Why didn’t you tell me it was long distance?”
“I tried,” Pat said. “But you were more interested in sleeping.”
A glance at her clock radio told her it was barely seven.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Ellen walked quickly down one flight of stairs and picked up the phone at the end of the hallway.
“Good morning, Mom.”
“How’d you know it was me?”
Although they emailed each other regularly, this was the first time her mother had actually phoned since she’d left home. “Lucky guess.”
“Who was that young man who answered the phone?”
“Patrick.”
“The basketball kid.”
Her mother had read every word of her emails. “That’s him.”
“Has Monte eaten you out of house and home yet?”
“Just about.”
“And has this Derek kid finally summoned up enough nerve to ask out...what was her name again?”
“Michelle.”
“Right. That’s the one.”
“They saw each other twice this weekend,” Ellen told her, feeling a sharp pang of homesickness.
“And what about you, Ellen? Are you dating?” It wasn’t an idle question. Through the years, Ellen’s mother had often fretted that her oldest child was giving up her youth in order to care for the family. Ellen didn’t deny that she’d made sacrifices, but they’d been willing ones.
Her emails had been chatty, but she hadn’t mentioned Charlie, and Ellen wasn’t sure she wanted her mother to know about him. Her relationship with him was based on friendship and nothing more, although Ellen suspected that Charlie would’ve liked it to develop into something romantic.
“Mom, you didn’t phone me long distance on a Monday morning to discuss my social life.”
“You’re right. I called to discuss mine.”
“And?” Ellen’s heart hammered against her ribs. She already knew what was coming. She’d known it months ago, even before she’d moved to Seattle. Her mother was going to remarry. After ten years of widowhood, Barbara Cunningham had found another man to love.
“And—” her mother faltered “—James has asked me to be his wife.”
