A Wedding In The Family

“Well, I’m concerned about me, too. And I’m not a naive college student about to make another blunder with my-life, if that’s what he thinks,” Angela said.

“Listen, Rob loves you and you love him. And I’m not foolish enough to get caught in the middle of a sibling quarrel. You can talk to him about this later. Right now, I want you to forget you’re my sister-in-law. Just be my friend and tell me about this great guy.”

“I don’t know, Micah. He makes me wish I were younger…prettier—”

“So this could be serious then,” Micah commented. “Have you gone out with him yet? I mean, been alone with him?”

“Yes. No. We went out one evening for ice cream. Heather was with us,” Angela explained.

“You are going out with him again, aren’t you? I mean, Rob and I could watch the kids—” Micah stopped. “Hold on, Angela…Rob, you’ll have to tell her that yourself. You can talk to her as soon as I’m finished. Sorry, Angela. Anyway, as I was saying, we’ll watch the kids for you.”

“He’s going to a church cookout with us on Saturday. I don’t need a sitter for that. And tell Rob that the kids, Mom and Dad, and about 200 other church members will be there to chaperone.”

“Not exactly a romantic setting,” Micah replied. “But it might be a good way to get to know him better. When I first met Rob…well, I remember wanting to kiss him long before we actually did. And once that happened, then I knew.”

Angela waited. “You knew…what?”

“That I would want to be with him forever,” Micah said with a sigh and then a gentle laugh. “Angela, I think I’m supposed to hang up now. My husband is…making funny faces…” Micah laughed. “Rob, stop it—”

“All right, you two. Call me tomorrow. ‘Bye.” Angela hung up the receiver and walked into the darkened living room. She sank wearily onto the sofa. The kids were asleep. The house was quiet And she’d never been in love the way Rob and Micah were. Or Eric and Hope. Or even her own mother and father. She was genuinely glad for the happy marriages in the Granston family, and, at the same time, so jealous that she could almost have cried.

Chapter Four (#ulink_1c35b6f6-3611-55ac-857a-2f3c8d0c0210)

Three o’clock loomed near that Saturday afternoon, and Angela looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her bathroom door. Her jeans were rather old and faded—just the way she liked them. And her white shirt and colorful vest looked acceptable, she thought as she viewed the patchwork of rich browns, rusts and tans. She pulled on her saddle-colored boots and frowned. Acceptable, yes; attractive, not particularly. But her dark hair looked good with its new layered cut, and her bangs weren’t too long or too short for a change, so that pleased her. What difference did it really make anyway? It was just a church outing—and probably the only date she’d ever have with Adam Dalton.

“Mom, I’ve put the cooler and the basket in the back of the van. Are you almost ready?” Nathan called to her from the living room. “David and Heather are goofing around out back. Should I tell them it’s time to go?”

“No, wait until Adam gets here.”

“Maybe he won’t show,” Nathan offered with a hopeful smile when he appeared in the bathroom doorway.

Angela shot a look of obvious irritation in the direction of her son before walking past him to find the sweater she wanted to take along. “Maybe he won’t,” she agreed, “but maybe he will. Either way, you’re still going to this cookout. Tell your brother and sister to get their jackets. You’ll all need them before this is over.”

Nathan was not enthusiastic over this new development in her life—in all their lives, Angela reminded herself. Everything she did affected the kids one way or another, and her involvement with Adam was no different. That’s why this relationship would probably go no further than sharing a hamburger with him today in the presence of her children, her parents and dozens of other people. People, people everywhere. Why had she invited him to this gathering, anyway? What was she thinking? They’d spend hours together in a crowd when all she really wanted was five minutes alone with him.

Unable to locate her sweater, she pulled a corduroy jacket from where she’d left it on the corner of her dresser and paused to look one last time into a small mirror that hung on her bedroom wall. Five minutes alone with him? Where had that thought come from? she wondered suddenly. Then she remembered Micah’s comment about wanting to kiss Rob. But it had been years since Angela had felt that way—so many, in fact that she couldn’t clearly remember ever having had that feeling. And now, to feel this way about a man she hadn’t heard from in a week and a half, a man who might not even remember he made this date with her, a man who might not be any more reliable than her husband had been…

Then the doorbell rang. Angela breathed a sigh of relief; Nathan groaned quietly, then went to answer the door. Maybe Adam was different, she thought. The possibility existed, didn’t it? Otherwise, what was the point in trying?

“Hi, Nathan.” She heard Adam’s familiar voice greet her less-than-enthusiastic son. This would be trying for Nathan. There was no doubt about that. He was a sensitive kid who had taken the idea of being “man of the house” too seriously, for too long. He’d seen more clearly than his siblings the effect his father’s problem with alcohol had had on the family, and he’d probably be suspicious of any possible intrusion on their now-pleasant home life. For that matter, so was Angela. So what was she going to do about this man standing in the middle of her living room?

“Hi,” she said as she came forward to greet Adam. “Ready for a cookout?” She thought she detected a slight ready-as-I’ll-ever-be set to his expression.

“Guess so. Want me to carry anything to the van?”

“I already took care of that,” Nathan interjected and grabbed his school jacket from a hook by the door. “I’ll tell the others it’s time to go.” He exited without further comment.

They both watched him go; then Adam looked back at Angela. “This is difficult for him,” he commented.

She nodded. “He’ll feel better once we’re there and he sees his friends,” she replied.

There was silence between them for an awkward moment. Then Adam spoke. “I brought a case of soda and put it in your van. I thought I should contribute something to this outing.”

“The kids will like it. I’m taking potato salad, baked beans and some cookies I bought at the bakery. Mom is bringing a cake, a relish tray and iced tea. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of everything. We always do,” she explained with a smile. “If there’s anything our church excels at, it’s carry-in dinners. We like to eat.”

Adam grinned. “You’ve changed your hair.”

“Just a little,” she said, thinking how much she liked his easy smile. “It was overdue for a cut, and I can’t stand my bangs down around my eyes.” She reached for her car keys on the nearby end table and, amazingly for a change, they were actually where she’d left them.

“It looks good,” Adam complimented as he opened the door for her, realizing the remark about her hair seemed lackluster, but he couldn’t tell her how pretty he thought she was. In jeans and a plain shirt, in a skirt and a jacket, in whatever she chose to wear. That might be too much too soon. It would be the absolute truth, but she probably wouldn’t believe him. And he needed her to believe him. Now, and later. “You look great every time I see you.”

Angela cocked her head to the side, eyeing him with skepticism. “Especially with a runny nose and wearing that old sweat suit I had on the first night we spoke.”

“Yes, well—” he remembered that encounter with clarity “—you looked very…”

“Very?” she said, knowing he was struggling for a descriptive, but safe, word. “I’m waiting.”

“I’m thinking,” Adam replied with a smile. “Can I say ‘motherly’? ‘Cautious’? ‘Protective’ maybe?”

“Nope,” she answered as she walked toward and then past him. “You could say ‘awful.’” He was close enough to touch, and Angela was fighting the urge to do exactly that when Adam extended an arm, clasping her hand warmly in his own.

“How about ‘cute’?” he suggested.

“Sorry, but ‘cute’ is not acceptable at thirty-two,” she replied, holding tightly to the strong hand she had welcomed.

“Then let’s go with ‘promising,’” he said, with a gentle squeeze to her fingers.

Promising. What a lovely thought. But she didn’t dare say that. Not to this man she knew so little about. “I wasn’t sure you’d come today,” she admitted suddenly.

“Why?” he asked, studying the contemplative blue of her eyes. “I told you I’d be here at three.”

“I know, but…” How could she tell him the reasons behind her doubts? Did she really want to explain the years with Dan?

“You can’t tell me you’ve had that happen with many dates before. Being stood up,” he added as they stepped outside into the sunshine and made their way toward the van. The children were already climbing in.

No, she thought, the problem had never been with a date. It was only when matrimony entered the story line that keeping commitments had become an issue. Marriage and responsibility had not sat well with her husband, and she had grown to expect broken promises. “I guess I’m just pessimistic by nature.” And experience.

“Maybe that can be changed,” he suggested.

Maybe it could, but at this point in her life, Angela had her doubts.

“Is the truck okay parked off to the side like that?” Adam asked. “I knew we’d need to take your van.”

She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun. “That’s fine.” Then she held up her keys. “But would you mind doing the driving?”

He opened the passenger door for her. “Not at all.” He let go of her hand, and she climbed in.

“You ready, kids?” she asked, glancing back at two excited faces—and Nathan’s frown.