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Welcome to Serenity

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2019
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Jeanette clamped her mouth shut. There was no point in belaboring this. It was a debate she couldn’t possibly win.

Helen beamed. “Good, then we’re agreed. It’s going to be a great evening.”

Jeanette didn’t want to burst her bubble, but from her perspective, it promised to be hell. The memory of that kiss she and Tom had shared made her blood sizzle every time she thought about it. She was going to have to resist any repeat of the experience, and the sad truth was, she wasn’t sure she had the willpower.

Tom was in the middle of an incredibly steamy dream about the elusive Jeanette when his phone rang on Sunday morning.

“Oh, honey, I didn’t wake you, did I?” his mother inquired.

He sighed as the last image of Jeanette faded from his mind. “It’s okay, Mother. I need to be up soon, anyway, if I’m going to get to church on time. What’s up?”

“Your father and I were just talking. I know you weren’t expecting me until next week, but the plans we had for today have been postponed, so we thought we’d drive over to Serenity to have lunch with you and take a look around your little town. Will that work for you?”

Tom bit back a groan. She made it sound like an excursion to a not-very-respectable amusement park. He’d planned on looking at a few houses this morning, doing some work on revising the budget, and then getting ready to go to Erik and Helen’s at four. Of course, his mother had mentioned lunch. That would put them here around noon and he could probably send them on their way by two. That should work. And at least it would put this hoped-for, but much-dreaded, visit behind him.

“Sure, Mother. That would be great. We can have lunch at Sullivan’s. We need to be there early, though. It’s usually packed right after church and they’re only open until two on Sundays.”

“That will work for us. We’re going to the early service at church and we’ll leave from there. We should be there by eleven. That should give us enough time to tour the town and be at the restaurant before noon.”

“Perfect,” Tom said. “Why don’t we meet at the town hall. It’s centrally located.”

“Oh, but we want to see where you’re living,” she protested.

“It’s a small inn, Mother. I have a room. There’s nothing to see. I still haven’t found a house.”

“I know it’s an inn, but I’d like to see it,” she said stubbornly. “That way I can picture you there, even if it is only temporary.”

It was one of her idiosyncracies that she liked knowing the details of her children’s living arrangements. She’d visited every dorm room, every sorority house and fraternity, every tiny apartment each of her children had resided in. Tom should have expected she’d want to see the inn.

Still, he argued against it. “Mother, you’re not going to be here that long. Let’s not waste the visit on a tour of my nine-by-twelve room.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she agreed reluctantly, then said with enthusiasm, “Perhaps we should help you look for a house while we’re there.”

“Absolutely not,” he said more sharply than he’d intended. “I’ve seen almost everything that’s on the market. I’m just trying to narrow it down.”

“Then we could help,” she persisted. “It’s no trouble, darling. I’ve always been able to see the potential in places. In fact, once you’ve chosen something, I can come over with my decorator and help you whip it into shape. You’ll need something large enough for entertaining, and it should be in the best neighborhood. After all, you are a public official.”

“Mom!” He needed to get her attention. “Enough. I don’t need anything fancy. I can slap a little paint on the walls if it needs it. The last thing I need is a decorator.”

“Well, surely you’ll want some of the family heirlooms,” she continued, undaunted. “That awful place you had in the last town was nowhere for priceless antiques, but I’m sure you can improve on that.”

Tom would rather live in a tent than be surrounded by the ornate McDonald treasures. “We’ll discuss it when I see you,” he said. If he put his foot down in person, she might actually hear him. Then again, that had never worked for his father. She’d been running roughshod over him for their entire forty years of marriage.

Jeanette exited the church, stopped for a moment to speak with Pastor Drake, then turned and bumped straight into Tom.

“You!” she said, taking a step back.

Had he been in church? That would explain his perfectly tailored navy blue suit, crisp white shirt and polished Italian loafers. She couldn’t help recalling what Helen had said about him coming from money. He looked every inch the scion of some old Charleston family. Of course, the dimple in his cheek and the twinkle in his eye also made him seem sexy and accessible. It was a potent combination.

“Well, this is an unexpected surprise. You’re just the person I needed to see,” he said, seizing her hand and drawing her away from the crowd.

Jeanette tried to yank her hand away, but he had a surprisingly strong grip. Warm and solid. The kind of grip that would feel reassuring if circumstances were different.

“Will you let go of me?” she demanded.

“Will you at least hear me out?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t I hear you out?”

He shrugged. “Good question, but our brief history suggests you’re not always open to spending time with me.”

“You’re not asking me on a date again, are you?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means my parents are arriving here in approximately fifteen minutes and I need backup.”

She stared at him blankly. “Backup? Why?”

“My father hates everything about my being town manager here and my mother wants to choose my new home and decorate it,” he said, sounding a little frantic.

Jeanette’s lips twitched. This vulnerable side of him was oddly appealing. “You’re scared of Mommy and Daddy?”

“You won’t say it like that once you’ve met them. My father is a tyrant and my mother is a force of nature.”

“And you want me to meet them after you’ve made them sound so charming?”

“Okay, bad planning on my part. The point is that they are always on their best behavior around strangers. I can feed them at Sullivan’s and have them on their way by two if you’ll help me out by tagging along. I swear it’s not a date. I just need you as a buffer.”

Jeanette found herself enjoying his discomfort. She actually wanted to meet the two people who could throw this self-confident man into such a dither. And it might be nice to see another dysfunctional family in action. It might be reassuring, somehow, to have proof that she wasn’t the only one on the planet who had parental issues. And it wasn’t as if they were dating and meeting his parents was a major moment. As he’d said, she’d be merely a buffer. No big deal.

“There’s just one thing,” she said. “How would you explain me?”

“As a friend,” he said at once. “That’s the truth, isn’t it? We’re friends, or at least getting there.”

“Casual acquaintance is more apt, but I get why you’d need to call me a friend if you’re including me in this lunch.” She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, then, as long as there are no hints…” She gave him a stern look. “None, whatsoever, that we are anything more than friends, understood? I don’t want to hear even the tiniest suggestion that we might be friends with benefits.”

“Of course not,” he said solemnly. “Then you’ll do it?”

“I’ll do it.”

He snagged her hand again. “Good, we’re meeting them at the town hall—” he glanced at his watch “—in less than ten minutes. The one thing you don’t ever want to do is keep them waiting. It’s important to make a good first impression.”

Something in his voice alerted her that he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. “Why do you care what kind of impression I make? I’m a buffer, that’s it. It might be even better if they hate my guts on sight.”

“Possibly,” he conceded. “But there’s no point in either of us enduring a ten-minute lecture on the lack of respect implied by tardiness.”
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