Welcome to Serenity (36 page)

“That’s why we have paramedics on standby,” Ronnie said.

“I thought that was in case somebody choked on a hot dog,” Tom muttered.

“They multitask,” Ronnie assured him. “Find the woman and kiss her before all of this gets blown out of proportion.”

“Kissing can’t solve this problem,” Tom said.

“Maybe not, but it can remind you both that what you have is worth fighting for.”

Tom regarded him with envy. “How’d you get to be so smart?”

“By blowing my marriage to smithereens and having to fight like hell to get it back,” Ronnie said. “Take it from me, it’s smarter to appreciate what you have before it gets away from you.”

Appreciating Jeanette wasn’t the problem. Understanding her was the hard part, but Ronnie was right about one thing. He didn’t want to lose her and take a chance on spending the rest of his life without her.

Jeanette was standing alone under a tree watching Mary Vaughn and Sonny. They’d set up chairs side by side in front of the stage and were seemingly listening to the concert by the town’s choirs, though from what she could tell, neither one of them had glanced at the stage in the past half hour. They were totally, one hundred percent absorbed in each other. She envied them.

“What are the odds at Wharton’s on those two getting back together?” Tom asked, coming up beside her.

“Probably higher than the bets they’re placing on the two of us,” she reported glumly.

He turned her to face him. “I’m sorry about earlier. For too many years just the sound of Christmas music was enough to put me in a foul mood. You have no idea how much hypocrisy there was in my house. Our celebration didn’t have anything to do with love or goodwill. It was materialistic in the extreme. There were mountains of presents on Christmas morning, though they had little to do with anything my sisters or I wanted. Instead my parents bought what they thought we should have so they could gloat to their friends that they’d found the impossible-tofind latest toy or technology gizmo. You would have thought the holidays were invented to advance my mother’s personal social agenda.”

“Didn’t you ever wonder why that mattered so much to her?” Jeannette asked.

He regarded her with puzzlement. “There you go again, hinting that there’s some deep dark secret I’m missing. If you know something, tell me.”

“It’s not my place.”

“Then excuse me if I go on hating the holidays.”

“Okay, you were a classic poor little rich boy,” she said.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

Tom winced. “No. I’m just trying to make you understand.”

“I do understand. We all have things in our pasts we’d like to forget, things that didn’t go the way we thought we deserved or the way we hoped they would. Grow up. Get over it.”

“The righteousness of the recently converted,” Tom commented. Jeanette stared at him in shock. “What does that mean?”

“Not all that long ago, you were letting the past rule your life, too,” he reminded her. “Now you’ve found a way to reconcile with your parents and to look at the holiday season from a new perspective. And that’s wonderful. It really is. I wouldn’t want anything less for you. Just give the rest of us time to catch up.”

“I never meant to…” Her voice trailed off. What had she meant? Maybe she had been judging him too harshly for not adapting and rejoicing at the same pace she had—especially when she knew about his mother and why she placed so much emphasis on status when he didn’t. What was wrong with her? She of all people knew that pain and heartache were individual. What her father and mother had felt wasn’t the same thing she’d experienced. Their grief had taken them in one direction, leaving her out and causing her to suffer in a different way entirely. Perhaps Tom hadn’t suffered the major loss she and her family had, but she knew all too well how being disconnected from those you loved could hurt. Chances were, his relationship with his family had been awkward and difficult all year long, but it had probably felt a thousand times worse during the holidays when other families were celebrating together. She had no right to minimize any of that.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just wanted us to be able to share this, to enjoy the magic of the holidays together.”

“And we will,” he promised. “I will get there, maybe not before we run out of eggnog tonight, but I will get there.”

She pulled his head down and kissed him slowly, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease, breathing in the scent of him, which mingled with the scent of pine in the air.

“You know,” he said softly, his lips against hers, “I think some of the magic of the season is rubbing off on me, after all.”

Mary Vaughn felt as if she’d never thrown a party before in her life. She’d been dashing around the house for the past hour double-checking every detail, making sure that the caterer had the food displayed just right for the buffet, that there wasn’t a speck of dust on the chandelier in the dining room, that not one single bulb had blown out on the dozens of strands on the massive tree in the living room.

“Will you settle down?” Sonny pleaded, trailing behind her in a way that seemed wonderfully familiar. “Everything’s perfect.”

“What if no one comes?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Your parties are always the highlight of the season. And every single person we spoke to at the festival tonight said they planned to drop by.”

“I know, but people get tired. They think it will be packed and no one will miss them.”

He stopped her as she was about to count the cloth napkins for the second time. With his hands on her shoulders holding her in place, he looked into her eyes. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Because…” she began, then couldn’t bring herself to finish.

“Because people are going to know we’re back together?”

he asked. “Is that it?”

She nodded. “I want to make you proud.”

“You’ve always made me proud.”

“But I want people to see that I finally really get what an amazing man you are.”

He tilted her chin up. “The only one who needs to believe that is me.”

“And quite likely your father,” she said ruefully. “He may not be thrilled that we’re getting back together.”

“You’re wrong about that. He’s wanted this for a long time.”

“But he never liked me,” Mary Vaughn protested.

“No, he never liked that you didn’t love me the way he thought you ought to. He wasn’t blind, Mary Vaughn, and it’s a small town. He knew you never got over Ronnie.”

“I have now, you know,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “You’re the only man I want.”

“I’m actually starting to believe that,” he told her. “In fact, I have an early Christmas present for you.”

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a box. “It’s not a ring,” he warned when he handed it to her. “I’m telling you that so you won’t be disappointed. It’s too soon for that kind of commitment, but I wanted you to know how I feel about you just the same. I have faith in what’s happening between us.”

She opened the box to find a piece of estate jewelry inside, a locket. Her fingers trembling, she opened it to find a snapshot of Sonny and Rory Sue on one side. The other side had been engraved with a single word: Forever.

“That’s what I want for us, Mary Vaughn. This time I want it to be forever.”

“Oh, Sonny, so do I,” she whispered against his cheek.

“So do I.”

“Shall I put it on for you?” he asked.

She nodded and lifted her hair out of the way as he dealt with the delicate clasp. The brush of his fingers across the nape of her neck made her shiver with anticipation. For the first time, she was glad Rory Sue wasn’t home from college, that she wouldn’t be here for a few more days. It meant she and Sonny would have the house to themselves once the party was over. And if she had her way, they’d make good use of as many bedrooms as they possibly could. She smiled at the thought.

“We can’t sneak off and get all hot and sweaty in your parents’ guesthouse when they’re expecting us for dinner.

It would be rude.” To say nothing of courting disaster. She was skating on very thin ice with his parents as it was. He laughed. “Do you really want to discuss etiquette now?”

“Your mother already has an exceptionally low opinion of me. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“My opinion’s the one that counts,” he reminded her, though he did slow down and back her into a wrought-iron fence. Then he grabbed the railings on either side of her and leaned in to cover her mouth with his.

Jeanette gasped, as his tongue plunged inside. With all his hot, very male hardness pressed against her, she forgot why this was such a bad idea. Her hands cupped his face, ensuring that the kiss didn’t end. His hips ground into hers. He reached down, lifted the hem of her dress and slid his hand along her bare thigh until it found the moist core of her. She jerked at the intimate touch and almost flew apart right then and there.

“Stop,” she murmured, then, “No, don’t stop. Don’t…

Tom?” His clever fingers dived inside her and then she did come undone. Her eyes wide, her breath coming in quick pants, she met his gaze. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. It…we shouldn’t be doing this.” She buried her head in his shoulder. “Tom, how can I possibly go inside now?

Everyone will know what we’ve been doing.”

He touched a finger to her cheek, brushed back a wayward curl. “There’s a bathroom in the guesthouse. You can check yourself out in the mirror in there, though I happen to think you look amazing, all tousled and glowing.”

Her hand immediately went to her hair, which was curling wildly after all her earlier attempts to tame it. “Oh, no.”

“Stop,” he commanded. “The look suits you. Please don’t fix it.”

“We’ll see,” she said. “Where’s this guesthouse?”

He led the way to what had once been a gatekeeper’s cottage, guarding the main entrance to the large property. It was only slightly smaller than her new house and had been decorated with a masculine touch in burgundy and navy blues, accented with beige. She studied it, then turned to him. “Your mother did this for you, didn’t she?”

He nodded. “They had some crazy idea I’d move back home if I had my own place on the property, at least until I married and settled down to the life they envisioned for me.”

“Did you ever live here?”

He shook his head. “But they haven’t given up hope. I keep telling them to rent it out, but they refuse to do it. My father says I’m bound to come to my senses one of these days and move back to Charleston, where a good address really matters.”

Just then she glanced at the clock sitting over the fireplace mantel and realized they were late. “Look at the time. Your mother is going to kill us…or me, anyway. She’ll blame this on me.”

“I’ll tell her it was my fault,” Tom promised.

“Two minutes,” Jeanette said and ran for the bathroom. Tom had been right, her cheeks were glowing and her hair was mussed, but in a way that some women paid a lot of money to achieve. She straightened her clothes, washed up and replaced the lipstick that had been lost to his kisses. In exactly two minutes, she returned to the living room.

“Will I do?”

“You’re gorgeous,” he assured her.

She rolled her eyes at the biased comment. “Thanks, but you’d better find an explanation for our tardiness that has absolutely nothing to do with what actually happened.”

“Not a problem. I’ll tell her that we left a bit late, got stuck in traffic.” He led the way along a path to the brightly lit house.

It was a rare warm evening for this time of year, and music and laughter poured from the open windows and the French doors that led to the terrace. They slipped inside through the open doors.

“Well, there you are!” his mother said, zeroing in on them at once. “I thought perhaps you’d forgotten the way home.” She frowned as she surveyed Jeanette, but her greeting was polite enough.

“Thank you for including me,” Jeanette said, even though Mrs. McDonald looked as if she’d just tasted a slice of lemon. That sour expression was getting to be way too familiar.

“Tom, you need to find your father and let him know you’re here. There’s someone he wants you to meet.”

“Okay,” Tom said. He started to reach for Jeanette’s hand, but his mother stepped between them.

“Jeanette will be just fine with me. I’ll see that she meets everyone, though I imagine she’s met quite a few of them since they were regulars at Chez Bella.”

Tom froze. “Mother, if you’ve done anything to deliberately make Jeanette feel uncomfortable…”

“She’s a guest in my home,” his mother said stiffly.

“McDonalds do not embarrass their guests.”

He gave her a hard look, then nodded. “I’ll take your word on that.”

Jeanette watched him walk away with dismay, but since there was no other choice, she drew herself up, plastered a smile on her face and said, “Your decorations are beautiful, Mrs. McDonald. I love the nutcracker theme. I’m sure you’ve been working on it for weeks.”

It was true. This room absolutely sparkled with twinkling, multicolored lights. It was filled with the fragrance of evergreens, even though Tom had told her the boughs on display were artificial, and the nutcracker theme had been carried out with enthusiasm. There were hundreds of them on the tree, larger ones on the mantel and life-size nutcrackers at the entrance to the room. Across the hall the decor—from what she could glimpse of it—was the Sugarplum Fairy with pale pink, purple and silver ribbons woven through the boughs and accompanied by thousands of tiny white lights.

Jeanette had been in department stores with less attention to holiday detail.

“This house has always been a showcase during the holidays,” Mrs. McDonald said proudly. “It’s a tradition I’ve been happy to continue.”

“Are your daughters here? I’d love to meet them,”

Jeanette said.

“Not tonight. This is a business dinner, not a family celebration,” she said pointedly. Jeanette winced at the distinction and the less-than
subtle implication that she wouldn’t have been included had it been for family.

For the next half hour she endured curious glances and cool greetings from women who’d once told her some of their most intimate secrets. They weren’t used to meeting her on an equal footing and it was plainly awkward for all of them. Not that any of them were outright rude. They simply didn’t know what to make of her presence, especially without Tom by her side and past gossip about the lawsuit threat from Mrs. McDonald still ringing in their ears.

Jeanette held her head up, chatted briefly and then found her way to the bar, where she asked for a glass of wine. She took it onto the terrace, intending to stay only long enough to regroup, when she heard raised voices coming from another room. Since Tom’s was one of them, she drifted in that direction.

“Dad, how many times do I have to tell you that I am not joining a law practice in Charleston?” Tom demanded heatedly. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing that conversation was for Dwight Mitchell and for me?”

“And do you know what a fool you’d be to turn him down? Mitchell and McLaughlin is one of the oldest, most prestigious firms in Charleston. In the state, for that matter. If you join that practice, you’ll be set for life, not just financially, but for whatever political career you want to pursue.”

“I’m not going to practice law and I’m not going to run for office,” Tom said emphatically. “I don’t know how to make that any clearer.”

“When are you going to stop making decisions just to spite me?” his father retorted.

“Dad, my decisions have nothing to do with you. I’m doing work that I love. Please accept that so we don’t have to keep having this conversation.”

“And the same thing is true of Jeanette? You really care for her?”

“You know I do. I want you and Mother to get to know her. She’s very important to me. So are you, whether you believe that or not. I’d like us all to get along.”

His father sighed heavily. “I want that, too. I just had such high hopes for your future, as did your mother.”

“Dad, I’m working toward the future I want. It’s a perfectly honorable one, even if it’s not the one you would have chosen for me. That’s what matters. And I’m with a woman I love, a woman who makes me happy.”

“Even though she’s not one of us?”

Tom laughed. “Because she can’t trace her ancestors back to English royalty or whatever the hell matters so much to Mother? Come on, Dad. Mother’s always been a bit of a snob, but not you.”

Silence fell for a moment, then Mr. McDonald spoke, his tone weary. “You’re right. I have no room to talk. My ancestors worked hard for what they achieved and then my father nearly squandered everything with his drinking, his gambling and his affairs. I’ve spent my life trying to restore what he almost lost. It wasn’t about the money. It was about our reputation. That’s all I care about, Tom. I want our good name to continue, to matter in Charleston the way it once did. Your mother took a huge risk when she married me after all my father’s scandalous behavior. I promised her she’d never have cause to regret it. Lately, she’s been embarrassed to show her face.”

“Given the amount of entertaining the two of you seem to be doing during the holidays, she can’t be too embarrassed,” Tom replied. He hesitated. “Dad, Jeanette’s been hinting that there were things you and Mother had been keeping from me, things that would explain why all of this matters so much to you. Is this it? Is it because of Grandfather?”

“He nearly ruined us, not just our finances, but our reputation,” his father said. “I know you think all the things your mother cares so much about are frivolous, but they matter because we’ve had to fight so hard to get them back.”

“I see.”

“Do you really, son?”

“I think I’m starting to.”

“Cut your mother some slack, okay?”

“If the two of you will cut us some,” Tom agreed. “I love Jeanette. I intend to marry her, if she’ll have me.”

“Please, don’t do this, Tom. It will kill your mother.”

“Only if she refuses to take the time to get to know Jeanette. In the end, that will drive us away,” Tom said. “I guarantee you that. Dad, I’m sorry about what Grandfather did, but it has nothing to do with me. It was in the past. I’m sure people have forgotten all about it. I’ve certainly never heard a word said against him.”

“Because your mother and I didn’t want you or your sisters to know. We did everything we needed to do to live down the mess my father had created, and eventually people forgot or at least allowed us to put it behind us. You have a legacy you can be proud of. A lot of the credit for that goes to your mother for taking a chance on me.”

“Dad, I’ve always been proud of you. I don’t always agree with you and I can’t live my life to please you, but that doesn’t negate the way I feel about you.”

His father’s expression was weary as he gestured around the room. “All of this was supposed to be yours.”

“I don’t need it,” Tom said gently. “I’ve found what I need. I have work I enjoy, a woman I love.”

“And you won’t reconsider?”

Tom shook his head. “No. This is the life I want. Can you please try to accept that?”

“I’ll try,” his father replied, sounding defeated. “Go on back to the party. It’s almost time for dinner. Tell your mother I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Dad, I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I really am.”

“Don’t be. I know better than most that a man has to choose the path that suits him. My whole life has been spent trying not to take the one my father took.”

Tom stood beside him, hesitant. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

His father smiled ruefully. “I’ve weathered worse setbacks than this one. Go on now. I’ll be right along.”

As Tom reached the door, he called out to him. “Son?”

“Yes?”

“Just so you know, I like your young woman. I’d hoped that you’d find someone right here in Charleston and I felt I had to try to make that happen, but in the end this is your decision. Jeanette has backbone. If you do decide to marry, I hope you’ll be as happy together as your mother and I have been.”

As Tom stepped outside, he saw Jeanette just going back inside the other room. He followed, and when Jeanette tried to slip inside, Tom caught up with her.

“You heard, didn’t you?” he demanded.

She nodded. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I went outside to get some air and I heard raised voices.”

“I’m sorry about some of the things my father said.” He smiled. “You did hear him say, though, that he likes you.”

“I heard. It actually means a lot, because I know how hard it was for him to say it.” She smiled brightly. “Now all I have to do is win over your mother.”

“We could do that another night,” he suggested. His gaze held hers. “Want to get out of here? This house suddenly seems unbearably stuffy and overcrowded.”

Jeanette was tempted, but good manners dictated they stay. “I’d love to, but I don’t think we should. Your mother will be offended. That’s no way for me to win points.”

“Actually she’d probably be relieved. There’d be a lot less tension over dinner.”

She shook her head. “Nice try, but we’re staying.”