No Groom Like Him

She would not dignify his comment with a response. He took the last turn out of the Valley onto the road that would lead to the house where she’d grown up. She had no desire whatsoever to continue this conversation, so she whipped out her BlackBerry and logged on to Twitter.

Okay, so who leaked my travel plans? LOL I arrived safely in my hometown to find the media waiting. Unexpected but lovely reception. Hello again, Pleasant Valley! Blessings to all;-)

Lily depressed the send button, tweeting her followers on the status of her arrival.

What she really wanted to write was: Hell is a real place, people, not some fiery netherworld across death. It’s right here on earth in a town deceptively named Pleasant Valley. I know because I’m in it.

CHAPTER THREE

WHAT WAS IT about Lily Susan that always took Max so off guard? He wasn’t sure. But he was on edge. The feeling was vaguely familiar. He resisted the urge to flip on the radio and nix the possibility of further conversation when she fell silent, so obviously annoyed.

She thought he was a jerk. Maybe he was. But there was a method to his madness. She needed to plan Raymond’s wedding—not an assistant. Because it was Lily Susan herself who garnered publicity. And his brother-in-law needed all the free publicity he could get to launch his political campaign. Max would see that it happened. Period. Besides, her own family was worried about her and wanted her to stay in town as long as possible.

While he was uncomfortable pushing himself onto Lily Susan, he wouldn’t back down. She was the one Angelica who had never felt much like part of the family. To him, anyway. But he didn’t have room to talk, since he wasn’t technically family, either.

But long ago Max had learned that Joe and Rosie Angelica operated on a philosophy that transcended blood. Family by love, they called it. Through the years, Max had learned those ties bound tight. He’d been grateful for this family since long before he’d even understood what he was grateful for.

Love and support. Selflessness instead of selfishness. The things that counted as far as Max was concerned.

Looking for a place to park in front of the neatly kept house, Max wondered if his passenger’s mood would be improved by her welcome committee. Cars filled the driveway and spilled into the cul-de-sac. No one would dare park on the lawn, lest they incur Joe’s wrath.

“Wow, I thought everyone would be at work or school.”

Max couldn’t tell whether or not a big reception was a good thing. “You’re surprised?”

“Not surprised,” was all she said as he maneuvered the car against a curb.

“I’ll bring your things inside,” he told her.

“Thanks. No hurry.”

She didn’t move though, and he thought she was waiting for him to get her door. He had his own opened before noticing how still she was. In his periphery, he saw her inhale deeply.

Nerves? From a woman who could work the media and address massive crowds in her sleep? That couldn’t be right. By the time he circled the car and got her door, he found Lily Susan her usual gracious, poised self.

They wove a path through the cars, her long, lean legs easily matching his pace. Max wasn’t surprised by the royal welcome. This family had been waiting a long time for their youngest to come home.

He got a welcome reception himself when the screen door shot open and his daughter appeared.

She skipped down the stairs with a light step, black ponytail bobbing, excitement glowing from her.

His pulse lurched at the sight. It was a familiar reaction, the instant he came face-to-face with the fact that everything that mattered in his life was all wrapped up in his little girl. There was always a second of awe that she was real.

And alive.

“Daddy!”

Max wished that squeal of delighted glee had to do with him as much as their guest. But his daughter was caught up in the excitement of Lily Susan’s homecoming.

Striding ahead, he braced himself as Madeleine leaped into his arms. Catching her against him, he twirled her around, eliciting another squeal—this one all for him. She tilted her cheek for a kiss, but her curious gaze fixed over his shoulder on the woman behind him.

“Is that her?” Madeleine asked almost reverently.

Max kissed her again to hide his smile. “It is. I’ll introduce you.”

Letting his daughter slide to the ground, he straightened. To his surprise, he found Lily Susan already dropping to Madeleine’s height, which brought his attention to her graceful neck and feminine shoulders in a way he’d have to be dead not to notice.

But he was only dead on the inside.

Smiling warmly, she extended her hand. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Madeleine. Ça fait plaisir de te revoir. Nous nous sommes rencontrés quand tu étais une petite fille. Regarde-toi. Tu as grandis pour être très, très belle.”

“Merci, madame.” Madeleine beamed, clearly surprised their guest spoke French. Grown up and beautiful—a double compliment if Max’s translation was close. His French was rudimentary at best. She politely replied how pleased she was to see Lily Susan again, too, but Max knew his daughter had no memory of their previous meeting. She’d barely been two the last time Lily Susan had graced the family with her presence.

Felicia had spoken French to their daughter since birth even though her parents had moved to the States before she or Raymond had been born. Max had kept up the tutoring by bringing an au pair from France who was a relative of the Girard family.

Lily Susan had told him she’d been keeping up with his family, and he was astounded she was interested in what was happening in a place she couldn’t find time to visit.

He was also astounded by the way she engaged his daughter in a chat about kindergarten and teachers and friends—in a random mix of English and French Felicia would have appreciated.

Kneeling in the leaf-strewn yard, Lily Susan listened intently to a story about the student-of-the-week breakfast reception that served cookies. Her whiskey-gold hair tumbled down her back, and her long skirt emphasized sleek legs as she wrapped her arms around her knees and nodded in all the appropriate places.

His daughter was generally reserved around strangers, but with the attention Lily Susan graciously provided, she was shedding her shell.

“You got to be on The Morning Show with your student-of-the-week ribbon, too? Wow. Does everyone watch The Morning Show?”

“Oui, madame.” Madeleine beamed. “Even the fifth graders and the patrols.”

Lily Susan gave a suitably impressed gasp. And he was impressed she knew what an elementary-school patrol was.

They made quite a sight. Lily Susan in all her designer-clothes glory. Madeleine, still bearing evidence of summer swimming lessons and weekends spent at the lake. She’d been nut-brown by Labor Day, compliments of Moroccan ancestors. He wondered if their son would have had his mother’s skin, too.

Not the first time he’d wondered.

“Aunt Lily Susan!” More squeals as the screen door creaked open and Riley’s twins burst onto the porch.

“We’ll make time later to chat.” Lily Susan gave Madeleine’s hands a little squeeze before she stood. “I want to hear more about your appearance on The Morning Show.”

His daughter nodded eagerly then Lily Susan was spreading her arms wide to greet her new visitors.

“My little twinnies!”

Riley’s kids weren’t so little anymore. Jake and Camille were a whopping almost nine years old, as Jake was fond of reminding everyone. But they were thrilled to see their aunt, and he witnessed firsthand the results of Riley’s determination to keep everyone in touch with text, email and phone calls.

Max bore a similar responsibility. Felicia’s family was all Madeleine would ever have of her mother. If his in-laws hadn’t been so accessible, he would have made the same effort as Riley.

He hung on to his daughter’s hand while Lily Susan hugged her niece and nephew. “I can’t believe how tall you’ve both gotten. How long has it been since I’ve seen you—a year?”

“Not a year, silly.” Camille laughed. “We saw you this summer. Don’t you remember we went on the boat ride to the Statue of Liberty?”