Page 39 of The Playboy and the Widow
“Honestly, Shirley, I’d think you’d be happy. I’ve finally agreed to a dinner date with Owen Freeman.” For two years her neighbor had been after Diana to at least meet this distant relation of hers. Diana had used every excuse in the book to get out of it. She simply hadn’t been interested in being introduced to Shirley’s third cousin, no matter how successful he was. Cliff had changed that, and Diana would have thought her neighbor would appreciate this shift in attitude.
“I know I should be thrilled you’re willing to meet Owen, but I’m not.” Shirley ran the tip of her index finger around the rim of her mug. She hesitated, as though she’d noticed the flower vase in the center of the table for the first time. It came from a florist. “Who sent the flowers?”
“Cliff.”
“Cliff Howard?”
Diana nodded, intent on copying the recipe. He’d taken Joan’s advice and sent the bouquet of red roses with a quick note of apology scribbled across the card. In other words, the next move was up to her. It had taken Diana several days of soul-searching to decide not to contact him. The decision hadn’t been an easy one, but it was the right one.
“But if he sent you flowers, then he must be willing to patch things up.”
“Maybe.” Diana dropped the subject there.
Her neighbor paused. “The least you could do is tell me what he did that was so terrible. If you can’t talk to me, then who can you talk to?”
Diana’s fingers tightened around the pencil. Shirley wasn’t asking her anything Joan and Katie hadn’t drilled her about a dozen times. Both girls had been out of joint from the minute Diana informed them she wouldn’t be seeing Cliff again. Katie had argued the loudest, claiming she wanted to go on his sailboat one more time. Joan had ardently insisted she liked Cliff better than anyone, and had gone into a three-day pout when Diana wouldn’t change her mind. As patiently as she could, Diana explained to both girls that there would be other men they would like just as well as Cliff.
“What I want to know,” Diana said, reaching for her own coffee as she studied her friend, “is why you’ve changed your tune all of a sudden. When I first started going out with Cliff, you were full of dire warnings. And now that I’ve decided not to see him again, you’re keen for me to patch things up with him.”
“You’re miserable.”
“I’m not,” Diana shot back, then realized what Shirley said was true. She missed Cliff, missed the expectancy that he’d brought back into her life, the eagerness to greet each day as a new experience. She missed the little things—the way his hand reached for hers, lacing her fingers with his. She missed the way his eyes sought her out when the girls were jumping up and down at his feet, wanting something from him. She hadn’t realized how lonely she was until Cliff had come into her life, and now the emptiness felt like a huge, empty vacuum that needed to be filled.
“It’s best this way,” Diana said after a thoughtful moment.
Shirley’s hand patted hers. “Okay,” she said reluctantly, “if you say so.”
“I do.”
Neither spoke for a long time. Finally Shirley ventured into conversation. “When are you having dinner with Owen?”
“Tomorrow,” Diana answered. Now all she had to do was pump some enthusiasm into meeting Shirley’s third cousin, who taught English literature at the local community college.
The following evening, Diana tried to convince herself what a good time she was going to have. She showered and dressed, while Joan followed her around the bedroom, choosing her outfit for her.
“How come you’re wearing your pearl earrings?” Joan demanded. “You didn’t wear them for...” She started to say Cliff’s name, then hurriedly corrected herself since he was a forbidden subject. “You know who—and now you’re putting them on for some guy you haven’t even met.”
Diana’s answering smile was weak at best. She needed the boost in confidence, but explaining that to her daughter would be difficult.
When her mother didn’t answer, Joan positioned herself in front of Diana’s bedroom window that looked down onto the street below. “A car just pulled into the driveway.”
“That will be Mr. Freeman. Joan, please, be on your best behavior.”
“Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?”
“He just got out of the car—he’s wearing plaid pants.”
Diana reached for her perfume, giving her neck and wrists a liberal spray, and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “It’s not right to judge someone by the clothes he wears.”
“Mom, he’s a nerd to the tenth power.” Joan sagged onto the end of the mattress and buried her face in her hands. “If you end up marrying this guy, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Joan, honestly!”
“Mom, Mr. Freeman is here,” Katie screamed from the foot of the stairs after peeking out the living room window. She raced up to meet her mother, who was coming out of the bedroom. “Mom,” she whispered breathlessly. “He’s a geek. A major geek!”
Feigning a smile, Diana placed her hand on the banister and slowly walked down the stairs to answer the doorbell.
