Daughters Of The Bride. Susan Mallery

about Josh. Although he wasn’t into the details, no one could doubt his love for his son.

      “It would be nice if he could spend more time with you,” she said cautiously.

      “Then it’s a plan.”

      She nodded.

      He flashed her a smile. “I’m going to get the pizza. You didn’t say if you wanted your usual.”

      “Yes, please.”

      “Then we’ll be right back.”

      Josh returned from taking his things to his room. “Can I have soda, Mom?” he asked.

      “No.”

      He laughed. “One day you’re going to say yes.”

      “One day you’re not going to ask.”

      “Never gonna happen.”

      “I did make cookies.”

      He gave her a quick hug. “You’re the best.”

      “Put that in writing.”

      “I could paint it on the garage door.”

      “That would be nice.”

      Greg held open the front door. “You say that now, but if he really did it, you’d be pissed.”

      “Don’t get any ideas,” she told him. Because helping Josh paint phrases on the garage door was exactly something Greg would do. He would think it was funny.

      Rachel set the table. She got a beer for Greg, a glass of wine for herself and juice for Josh. In the distance, the washer chugged away. She checked the Crock-Pot, then went to change the sheets on Josh’s bed.

      Her son’s room was big and bright, with a large window and an oversize closet. Sports equipment was strewn everywhere, along with clothes and sports magazines. About once a quarter she got on him to clean up the space, but most of the time she simply let him be or picked up herself.

      Now she put away the clothes he’d taken to his dad’s, putting still-clean shirts on hangers and throwing the dirty clothes into the hamper in his closet. She pulled back the comforter and blanket before tugging off the sheets.

      She retreated to the hallway linen closet to collect clean bedding. The smooth cotton fabric was a solid color now. Gone were the cars and trucks Josh had once loved. He was growing up so fast.

      She remembered when he’d been born—so small and helpless. She and Greg had been overwhelmed. They were the first of their friends to get married, get pregnant and have a baby. Lena had followed six months later and by then Rachel had considered herself an expert. But those first few weeks had been terrifying.

      It wasn’t supposed to have happened that way, she thought as she pulled the fitted sheet over the corners of the mattress. She and Greg had wanted to travel for the first five years of their marriage, then start a family. But she’d forgotten her birth control pills at home on their honeymoon and he hadn’t wanted to wear a condom. One thing had led to another.

      It had always been that way with them. Too much, too fast. Back in high school, he’d been the most popular guy around. Two years older, he’d been a senior while she’d been a lowly sophomore. She hadn’t realized he’d known her name until he stopped her in the hall outside her English class. He’d smiled at her and asked her out. Just like that. In front of God and everyone.

      She’d said yes because he was Greg, and even then she’d been unable to resist him. As she smoothed the top sheet into place, she recalled how nervous she’d been. About everything. She’d never been on a date before. She hadn’t even been sure her mother would let her go. But Maggie had had a meeting with one of her accounting clients and hadn’t made it home until late. By then, Rachel was out with Greg and nothing would ever be the same again.

      She finished making the bed and carried the dirty sheets to the laundry room. By the time she’d transferred the clean clothes to the dryer and put in a second load, Greg and Josh were back.

      “The Dodgers are tied,” her son informed her when she walked into the kitchen. His tone was pleading. “It’s a really important game.”

      Which should have impressed her. Only, in Josh’s opinion, they were all important.

      “Are you saying you’d rather watch TV than eat dinner with your parents?” she asked, pretending to be shocked at the notion.

      “Please, Mom.”

      How much longer would he ask rather than simply do? How many more years until the hormones kicked in and she became nothing but an irritation in his life?

      When it was just the two of them, she generally agreed. Often she joined him in the living room to watch whatever game was on TV. But if she said yes tonight, she would be dining alone with Greg. Did either of them want that?

      She risked a glance at her ex. Greg shrugged. “He loves the Dodgers. It’s fine with me.”

      Josh whooped, as if all was now decided, then hurried into the living room to set up a TV tray. Seconds later the sounds of the baseball game were audible. He returned to the kitchen, put two giant slices on a plate, grabbed his glass of juice and disappeared again.

      “We’ll miss you,” Greg called after him.

      A mumbled response came in reply.

      “Kids,” he said with a grin as he took the seat across from hers. “What are you gonna do?”

      He held open the smaller of the two boxes of pizza. She saw the veggie with extra cheese she liked but rarely got. Because when it was just her and Josh, it didn’t make sense to pay for an extra pizza or toppings.

      “Thank you,” she murmured as she took a slice.

      He set a couple of the all-meat slices on his plate.

      “What did you two—”

      “How was your—”

      They spoke at the same time. Rachel looked away, then back at him. “What did you and Josh do this weekend?”

      “We spent a lot of yesterday shopping for his glove. We went to three different stores before finding the right one.”

      Which meant they’d gone way out of Los Lobos. Something that would make her crazy—mostly because of the time. But Greg wouldn’t mind. He’d always been more adventurous than her. There was a reason he’d chosen a job that put his life on the line.

      As he talked about the different gloves they’d looked at, she remembered what he’d been like that first night they’d gone out. She’d been beyond scared. Barely sixteen and she’d been kissed only one other time.

      After dinner, they’d gone to the park. The night had been warm—too warm. The unseasonable temperature had meant lying in the grass was comfortable. They’d found a secluded spot and settled down. He’d kissed her. She still recalled how magical his mouth had felt on hers. He hadn’t pushed her, hadn’t taken too much, and they’d kissed for what felt like hours. Then he’d touched her breasts.

      No one had ever done that, and she’d been unprepared for the tingles that had swept through her. Her head had warned her to stop him, but her heart had whispered that this was Greg, and anything he wanted to do had to be right. Her body had loved the heat and excitement his touch had generated. She hadn’t known she could feel such things. One thing had led to another, and before she’d realized what was happening, she was naked and he was inside her.

      The feeling of being swept away had ended the second he’d taken her virginity. Pain was a quick road to reality. She’d thought about telling him to stop, but it was really too late. So she’d waited the three or four seconds until he’d finished, then had gotten dressed.

      Neither of them had spoken on the drive home. She’d jumped out of his car and raced inside—not sure what to think. She’d done something wrong,