“Although my parents like Vince, he’s not exactly the husband they’d choose for me.”
“What’s wrong with my brother?” Skye’s voice was knife-edged.
“Let me count the ways.” Vince spoke without rancor, but there was something in his eyes that made Skye think he was more upset than he let on. “I don’t live in Chicago. I didn’t go to college. I’m not a professional. I don’t have a lot of money. And . . .”
“And?” Skye hated to ask, afraid she already knew the answer.
“He’s Ca—”
“Caucasian, right?” Skye said half defiantly. “They want you to marry an African-American.”
“Nope.” Loretta’s eyes glinted with equal parts amusement and irritation. “I was going to say he’s Catholic. They want me to marry a Christian.”
“Sheesh. We are, too, Christians.” Without waiting for a response, Skye went on, “Which reminds me, why is Mom okay with you marrying a non-Catholic when she’s having a hissy fit because Wally isn’t Catholic?”
“She likes me better,” Vince teased. “Seriously, I think once Wally’s annulment comes through, she’ll be all right with him.”
“Getting back to you two.” Skye pressed her fingers against her temples. “You’re really going to elope?”
“Yes.” Loretta nodded.
“Neither of us wants a big, fancy wedding.” Vince’s voice was firm. “Especially after what went on with Cousin Riley’s last June.”
Riley’s over-the-top platinum wedding had inconvenienced everyone, caused oodles of hard feelings, and ended in murder.
“You have a point,” Skye conceded. “But you don’t have to go to the other extreme.”
“Look.” Vince drummed his fingers on the coffee table. “It’ll be so much easier this way.”
“We’ll have a party at Christmastime,” Loretta joined in. “It’ll give everyone a chance to get used to each other without the pressure of a wedding.”
“Without a lot of nosy people watching our two families’ every move,” Vince added.
“Okay.” Skye held up her hands in surrender. “I give up. What do you want me to do?”
“We’d like the four of us to fly to Las Vegas the first weekend in October,” Loretta explained. “You and Wally can spend the weekend, or longer if you want, but we’ll come back the following Sunday.”
“And until then,” Vince added, “we need to keep our engagement and the arrangements for the wedding a secret from both families. Which should be easy with Loretta’s folks, probably a little harder with Mom and Dad.”
“You two do realize that if a robin falls within fifty miles of Scumble River, Mom knows about it before its wings quit fluttering?” Skye tilted her head. When they didn’t react, she sighed. “What else do you have on your evil minds?”
“Before Loretta and I come back from the trip, you need to break the news to Mom.” Vince tried to sound casual. “In person.”
“No way.” At that instant, Skye knew that she might as well rejoin the Peace Corps. The only thing that would save her from May’s fury would be living in a foreign country with poor phone service.
“Look, if Mom starts to get suspicious, just give her a whiff of Lysol and tell her your house needs cleaning.” Vince’s eyes gleamed with mischievousness. “That should throw her off the scent for a while.”
“This is so, so much bigger than the favor I had you do for me,” Skye whined.
“You agreed to the deal.”
“And you knew all along what you were going to ask in return, didn’t you?”
“Of course not.” Vince shook his head.
“Right.” Skye didn’t believe him for a second. “I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I’m getting back at you both for this.”
Vince and Loretta snickered.
“That is, if I live through the experience,” Skye muttered.
“Mom’ll get over it.” Vince patted Skye’s cheek. “You worry too much about her.”
Skye shook her head. Her brother was excellent at existing in the here and now, but he had never been very good with the concept of future consequences. This time, he might regret that. If May missed her only son’s wedding, she wouldn’t let any of them live it down for a long, long time.
CHAPTER 10
Catch-22
Skye had been back inside her house for less than a minute after escorting the newly engaged couple to their car when she heard knocking. Thinking her brother had forgotten something, she ran into the foyer and flung open the door. Instead of Vince demanding his Tupperware container full of leftovers, Simon stood on her porch holding a pizza box.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might not have had a chance to eat today,” Simon explained.
“I do keep food in the house and am able to cook.” Skye let the sarcasm roll off her tongue. Simon wasn’t here just to feed her, and he didn’t have that cute, slightly goofy look he wore when he was trying to romance her, so something was definitely up.
He glanced over his shoulder, then said, “I need to talk to you in private.”
“I live alone on a fairly deserted road.” She made a show of sticking her head out the door and gazing around. “I’m pretty sure no one is eavesdropping.”
“Can I come in?” Simon juggled the flat cardboard box. “It’s important.”
“No.” Skye gave him a speculative look. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“How about we sit out here?” Simon gestured to the porch furniture. “The weather’s nice. Just flip on your outside lights.”
“Okay.” Skye tipped her head. “But this better not be about winning me back.”
“I promise it’s not.”
“You wait right there,” Skye ordered. “I’ll go get some plates and napkins. Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’d love a scotch, but I’m guessing you don’t have the bottle you used to keep for me anymore, so how about a glass of wine?” He put the pizza down on the wicker table.
She nodded, closed the door, and after a second’s thought locked it. Hurrying to the kitchen, she worried about what her ex wanted to discuss. None of the subjects that came to mind was encouraging.
Simon had made himself comfortable while she’d been gone. The citronella candle Skye kept on the table was lit, and he had taken off his suit jacket and tie and was settled in one of the pair of matching wicker armchairs with his feet up on the ottoman.
Skye put down two glasses of Zinfandel, plates, and a stack of paper napkins, then took a seat. “Go ahead. Eat while it’s still hot.”
“Thanks.” He flipped open the box. “I haven’t had anything since coffee with you. I was on my way to brunch when I got the call from Boyd.”
While Simon devoured three slices of pizza, she nibbled on one. She may have eaten a huge dinner a couple of hours ago, but who could resist Aurelio’s pepperoni and mushrooms on a crispy thin crust?
Finally, Simon wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You sure aren’t eating much.” He sneered. “Has Boyd got you on a diet for the big wedding?”
“Of course not. He likes me the way I am,” Skye snapped. “Do you really think I’d lose weight because some
“Oops! Sorry. That was just my jealousy getting out of hand.” Simon’s expression was contrite. “Let me rephrase that. Don’t you like the pizza?”
“If you must know, Mom and the gang were waiting for me with a complete Sunday dinner ready to be served when I got home.” She made a wry face. “I wonder how many other thirty-five-year-old women have mothers who break into their houses to cook for them.”
