Fine with Colby. What business did she have telling anyone what to do, anyway? What mattered was that her mother was hurting because her boyfriend broke up with her. That sucked at any age. “Give him a day or two. Then call or send a note.”
“No.” Her mom huffed, bravado rebuilding. “I can’t be with someone who expects perfection. Who wants me to wear the right clothes, say all the right things, and all that.”
“Did he criticize your clothes?”
“Of course not.” Her mother’s eyes widened, indignant. “I have fabulous taste!”
“I’m confused.” Colby resisted slapping her forehead.
“It’s a slippery slope. If a man won’t accept a little mistake about this, then he’ll never forgive a mistake about that or the other. These things always start the same: they love you for being unique and spontaneous until they lull you into feeling secure. Then come the criticisms and the ‘Don’t do that’ and ‘Why can’t you do this?’ demands. You twist into a pretzel to please them, and they end up leaving, anyway.”
She’d stealthily broadened the conversation to encompass Colby’s dad—the filter through which all men were now viewed. Colby supposed every woman’s—every person’s—former relationships affected how one viewed love. Hers certainly had.
“But that won’t happen with Alec, honey.” Her mom’s eyes regained a little of their twinkle. “He always seemed more sensitive than other men.”
Colby didn’t remind her mother how, just a few weeks ago, she’d considered Alec an odd duck. Now, thanks to his pastry and cat-saving runs—and apparently his looks—he’d swayed her mother’s opinion. “That’s true.”
“Your brother trusts him, and Hunter doesn’t suffer fools. All things considered, this is a good step for you. It’s about time you took a chance on something again.”
“Leaving my job to run a restaurant wasn’t a big enough risk?”
“Heavens, no!” Her mother brushed that off with a quick wave of her hand. “You have the option to go back to lawyering if this doesn’t work. Failure won’t hit you here.” Her mother pointed at her chest. “Before you got married, you’d fling yourself into everything with your whole heart. That changed, even before Mark’s death. You never confided in me, so I couldn’t help. Maybe you thought I didn’t know much about marriage, given my own failure.”
“That’s not it, Mom. Mark and I . . . well, we thought we could fix things on our own. In retrospect, that was a terrible mistake.”
“Don’t blame yourself for what he did.” Her mom stared at her, as if those energetic blue eyes could chase away the guilt. “Focus on what you have now. Be happy, sweet girl.”
The doorbell interrupted them. Colby placed her hand over her stomach. As encouraging as her mother had been, she doubted Alec received that same reception from his parents.
“That’s probably Alec now.” When her mom’s face lit up, Colby added, “Don’t expect pastries or a visit. We’re going to Hunter’s.”
An unladylike snort escaped. “I’d pay to see Hunter’s face when you tell him, but Sara will be supportive.”
Her mother dashed ahead, beating Colby to the door. Alec flashed a warm smile at her mom, and Colby hated the fact that she wondered what he was hiding behind that mask, and whether he’d be honest about his parents’ reaction to their news.
“I couldn’t be more tickled.” She patted his check. “Partners in every sense of the word. We should have a glass of wine.”
“Not now, Mom. I told you we have plans.”
“If Hunter gives you grief, don’t listen to one word he says.” Her mother rubbed Alec’s arm like she was preparing an athlete for competition.
“Hunter and Sara have been together for more than a decade. If there’s anyone we should listen to, it’s probably him,” Colby exclaimed.
“He got lucky. Only Sara could deal with his single-mindedness and stay happy.” Her mom shrugged. “Doesn’t mean he knows anything.”
“He knows how to pick the right person,” Colby grumbled.
Colby’s mom flashed a flirtatious smile at Alec before looking at Colby. “Honey, I think you’re on the right track now, too.”
“See why I like her so much?” Alec hugged her mom again, his broadening grin lighting the entry.
Colby clasped his hand. “Let’s get you out of here before she does something to embarrass us both.”
“Good night, Leslie.” Alec quickly kissed her cheek before Colby dragged him from the house.
“Is it safe to say your parents didn’t react like my mom?” she asked once seated in his car.
“No one reacts like Leslie.” He checked the rearview mirror while backing out, conveniently avoiding eye contact. “Some people will need time to adjust.”
If two years hadn’t helped them forgive her, more time didn’t seem like the answer.
Almost as if in afterthought, he uttered, “If only I were more like Joe . . .”
“God, no, Alec.” Her sharp reply startled him. Softening, she said, “Don’t be like Joe.”
The car slowed as Alec’s bewilderment took hold. “I thought you loved Joe.”
“I did, but he wasn’t a better man than you. Not in any way.”
Alec shifted uncomfortably as he turned onto Hunter’s street, looking completely unconvinced.
“I mean it. You are a kinder, wiser man than your brother ever was. Even as kids, that much was obvious.” She leaned across the console and kissed his cheek.
Alec remained quiet. That had always been his way. He thought; Joe acted. She supposed years of being unfavorably compared with Joe wouldn’t be undone by her single declaration. But she’d prove to Alec that he no longer needed to compete with his brother.
When they arrived at Hunter’s, Sara greeted them at the door. “Alec, my friend Susan had dinner at A CertainTea this weekend and is telling everyone it’s the best food around. She’s not easy to please, either.”
“Good word of mouth is priceless.” Alec pecked her on the cheek. “Next time she comes, I’ll try to stop by her table and meet her.”
“She’d love that. She likes to feel important.” Sara hugged him and then Colby.
They followed Sara back to the kitchen, where she’d already opened a wine bottle and set out four glasses. Unlike Colby’s sleek kitchen and empty pantry, Sara and Hunter’s kitchen screamed “home.” Colorful plates were displayed on a baker’s rack. Fresh flowers filled a vase on the island. A checkered dish towel was carelessly draped over the edge of the sink. Colby envisioned a future where kids’ artwork might be displayed on the stainless-steel refrigerator, too. For the first time, she suddenly wanted a home of her own.
“It’s a nice night. Maybe we’ll sit outside.” Sara poured herself a glass. “Let me get Hunter. He’s in his office, as usual.” She rolled her eyes with the remark, which had been delivered with an uncharacteristic edge, and sauntered off in search of her husband.
“You okay?” Alec asked Colby, having accurately read the surprise on her face.
“I wonder if we’ve come at a bad time?” she answered, but the conversation ended when they heard footsteps approaching.
Hunter trailed Sara as they entered the kitchen.