Heart on the Line by Judith Arnold

Heart on the Line by Judith Arnold

Author:Judith Arnold
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2003-02-15T00:00:00+00:00


Loretta joined Donna at the sink to offer her assistance with the dishes. Her thigh muscles were cramped because Andrew had insisted on sitting on her lap for the final ten minutes of dinner, and he was so adorable she couldn’t say no to him.

Deuce was not quite so adorable. He’d spent most of the meal critiquing Loretta’s TV appearance in a much louder voice than necessary. “Why did you wear pants? Girls are supposed to wear dresses on dates. My friend Anthony told me. He knows about stuff and he said girls are supposed to wear dresses on dates. I thought the guy was weird. I think cell phones are cool. When I grow up, I want my own cell phone…” On and on he went, making Loretta wish her show had been aired a month ago so Deuce would have been in school during the broadcast hour and thus would have been unable to see it. With summer vacation in full swing, though, he’d been home—and apparently glued to the TV set.

Lou said little during the meal. He rarely spoke. He was a smart man; he knew when to keep his mouth shut. He’d even kept his mouth shut when Andrew had asked if he could sit on Loretta’s lap. Donna had told Loretta she didn’t have to say yes, but Loretta was a sucker, especially when it came to four-year-old boys in cute little OshKosh overalls.

As soon as it was time to do the dishes, of course, Andrew didn’t want to sit on Loretta’s lap anymore. Nor did Deuce want to dissect the Becky Blake Show. The menfolk vanished at the first spurt of water into the sink, leaving Loretta and Donna to fend for themselves.

“The osso buco was great,” Loretta remarked. “How do you find the time to cook stuff like this?”

“I made the osso buco Friday,” Donna told her as she swabbed the dishes with a sudsy sponge. “We had a little then, but it didn’t taste as good as it did today. It needed to sit a couple of days. That’s the thing about osso buco—it’s got to sit. Three days is about right.”

“So you made it Friday.” Loretta took the first clean plate from Donna and dried it. “My mother would freak out at the thought of serving veal for dinner on a Friday.”

“Why, because it’s meat?” Donna snorted. “Hello? The pope did away with meatless Fridays before you and I were born.”

“But not before my mother was born. She never accepted the change.”

“Really? You never ate meat on Fridays?”

“Not when I was growing up. We ate fish sticks with lots of ketchup on them. They were gross. You want to do penance? Go meatless. You want to really do penance? Eat my mother’s fish sticks.”

Donna handed her another damp plate, then stared at her and frowned. “What’s that smile?”

Loretta hadn’t realized she was smiling. “Just remembering my mother’s fish sticks,” she said.

“No. It was a different smile,” Donna said, returning her gaze to the mounds of soap bubbles in the sink.



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