A Hopeful Heart and A Home, a Heart, A Husband. Lois Richer

“I’m not eating that stuff.”

      “You don’t have to,” Harry murmured. “Just pretend you’re enjoying it and smile. I need some time to explain about Jean, and I was hoping it would be tonight.” He stared at Melanie’s slumped figure speculatively. “Will she wake up anytime soon?”

      “I don’t know.” Mitch grinned. “She was pretty out of it after I gave her that mass—she was pretty tired,” he amended. But his grandfather’s eyes were glowing, and Mitch knew the old man had caught the slip.

      “A massage? How kind of you. Never knew you to be so concerned about someone before,” Harry murmured slyly.

      The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of Faith and Charity, who immediately began fussing over a groggy Melanie.

      “My goodness, Melanie, you do look tired,” Faith chirped cheerfully. “You should try some of that new tonic Arthur just got in. Liver tonic, I think it is.” She shuddered. “Tastes vile but really restores your energy.”

      “Baloney!” Charity’s brisk, no-nonsense tones were neither hushed nor quiet. “She doesn’t need a tonic. Just some fresh air and a decent meal. Wake up, dear.” She shook her daughter’s shoulder briskly.

      “Oh, is Melanie awake now?” Hope asked brightly from the kitchen doorway. Her spotless white apron was just as immaculate as the dress she wore beneath it. “My casserole will be ready in about fifteen minutes. We can all enjoy it together.”

      “Piffle! I hate—”

      Charity’s firm voice cut off Faith’s protests.

      “Mitch is taking Melanie out for dinner, Hope. Then they’re going for a walk in the park or something. And Faith and I have already eaten.” Mitch grinned at the frown Melanie’s mother gave Faith. “But you and Harry go ahead. We’ll just sit with you and visit.”

      Mitch was sure only he heard the whispered complaints between the two old ladies.

      “You lied, Charity! I didn’t have dinner yet.”

      “I didn’t say you had.” Charity’s voice was cool. “I merely said we’d already eaten. Didn’t you have breakfast and lunch today?” She waited while Faith nodded. “Then you’ve already eaten.”

      “But, Charity, I’m hungry,” Faith wailed. “I’ve been weeding in your garden all afternoon, and I want my dinner.”

      “Badly enough to swallow her tofu casserole?” Charity muttered grimly. As enlightenment spread across Faith’s countenance, Charity patted her hand. “We’ll stop at Burger Heaven on the way home.”

      “Can I have fries?” Faith asked slyly, her nose curling as a strange odor wafted through the apartment.

      Mitch wheeled and whispered in Faith’s ear. When she nodded, he pressed a twenty into her hand.

      Surprisingly, it took Melanie about five minutes to shower and change into a pair of white slacks and a cool blue top. Her hair was wreathed around her head in a coronet style that left the air free to caress her long, slim neck. Mitch decided he liked that style almost as much as he liked it when she left it loose and long.

      “What did you give Faith twenty dollars for?” she demanded as soon as they left the apartment, the good wishes of the three ladies ringing behind them.

      “To get rid of any of that stuff that’s left,” he told her. “You may be some kind of health nut, but I am not, repeat not, eating tofu casserole.”

      Quick as a wink, Melanie whipped open her tan leather bag and pulled out a ten, which she handed to him with a grin.

      “Good thinking.” She laughed. “I can’t stand tofu myself. Particularly not after wading through those awful poached chicken breasts last night. They had no taste.”

      “Tell me about it.” He chuckled. “Well, what’s it to be? Artery-clogging fried chicken? Thirty fat grams of pizza? Or Faith’s favorite—Burger Heaven?”

      When Melanie beamed at him like that, Mitch wondered if it wasn’t just about time to renounce his long-held beliefs on marriage and his aversion to it. Just about.

      “None of the above. Let’s try some lean, healthful Chinese food.”

      “Good idea! Like sweet and sour ribs and deep-fried chicken balls. Health food! Now that’s my style.” He pulled away from the curb with a roar and steered off down the street.

      He couldn’t help but join in her hoot of laughter. Nor could he avoid the sense of camaraderie that being with her brought. It was almost as if he belonged.