Dandelion Bride by Joyce Livingston

Author:Joyce Livingston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2013-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

Eight

“It’s Mother! Over there in the smoking section, in the corner.”

“It’s her all right.”

“What’ll we do? I don’t want her to see us!”

“Let’s scoot across the aisle. She won’t be able to see us from there. That big plant is in the way. The waiter won’t care.”

Trish looked around nervously. “You sure?”

“Customer’s always right! Remember?”

The two cautiously crossed to the little table, carrying their drinks, silverware, and napkins with them.

“Who’s she with?”

Trish twisted in her seat and peered through the palm fronds. “Don’t know. Never saw him before.”

“Well, whoever he is, they sure don’t look like they’re enjoying their lunch. I’d say they’re arguing about something, and pretty heatedly.”

“Sure looks like it. Mother looks like she’s about ready to explode!”

“I thought you said she was having lunch at a friend’s house? With an afternoon of bridge.”

“I did.”

The waiter brought their salads, but a loud voice in the opposite corner of the restaurant drew their attention before they could take the first bite.

It was Olivia’s, and she was on her feet, shouting something at the man seated at her table. He said something back, and in response Olivia’s hand shot out and slapped the man hard across the face, then she indignantly stomped out of the restaurant.

“What was that all about?” Bart asked as he rubbed his chin and his eyes widened.

“I have no idea. But I’d sure like to know.”

“Too bad you can’t ask her when you get home.”

“And let her know I’ve been in Denver with you? I think not!”

As they consumed their salads, the couple talked of many things, but the conversation kept finding its way back to Olivia and her unknown luncheon companion, who had also left the steak house.

“I can’t imagine what that was all about, can you?” Trish quizzed as she picked up her roll.

“Me, either. Course, I don’t know your mother well enough to know who her friends are.”

“Friend? I don’t think they looked like friends! My mother is pretty vain. She’d never put on a public display like that—unless she was angry enough to forget her surroundings. And,” she said with great concern, “I don’t think she even gave her surroundings a thought when she slapped that guy.”

“What do you suppose he said, or did, to make her mad enough to slap him?”

“I can’t imagine,” Trish responded. She’d never seen her mother slap her father, no matter how angry he made her. No matter what the man had said, she could find no explanation for her mother’s unorthodox behavior.

Bart slid his hand across the table and entwined his fingers with hers. “Let’s forget about her, Trish.”

She took a deep, cleansing breath. “I’ll try.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “I’ve got something to say.”

She gazed into his dark eyes. “What?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “About that kiss I stole. . .”

“Yes.”

“I think maybe I owe you an apology. I kinda overstepped my bounds.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It was as much my fault as yours.” She glanced away, feeling very foolish.

“You? No way! You didn’t even know it was coming! I—just couldn’t help myself.

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