Free Reunion in October (The Calendar Girls Book 2) by Gina Ardito Page B

of stuff.”
    “I told you the other day I can’t take any more time,” I reminded him. Not to mention how much it sucked to be stuck in an igloo, waiting between the hours of eight a.m. and five p.m.
    Mellie’s head snapped up from her cell phone. “Please don’t tell me I have to take a cold shower tomorrow morning. Angela’s sweet sixteen is tomorrow.”
    “You’ll probably have to,” I told her.
    “Mooooom! Justin will be there.”
    Oh, I was so not in the mood for all this drama right now. I glanced out the picture window toward my van, sitting in the driveway like a loyal steed. Was it too late to make a run for it? “Look, Mellie, I’m sorry. But I doubt I’ll be able to get Oxford Fuel to come tomorrow. It’s Sunday. You’re going to have to tough it out until at least Monday afternoon.”
    “No way!” Corey slammed the remote control onto the couch cushion. “I’ve got a scrimmage tomorrow.”
    Oh, for God’s sake. Were all my kids going to play the role of prima donna now? “So shower in the gym afterwards.”
    “It’s not at my school.”
    “Well, I’m sorry, but we’re all going to have to make sacrifices,” I snapped.
    Only Luke, still entertained with tossing Legos on the carpet, didn’t gape at my outburst.
    “Em,” Roy growled a low warning.
    Now he wanted to get involved? Why hadn’t he taken care of the oil delivery? Why hadn’t he taken responsibility when the kids started complaining to me? I shook my head and lifted a hand near his face. “Don’t. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
    Melissa’s jaw dropped. “But it’s not even ten o’clock yet.”
    “I saved you some pizza,” Roy added.
    Thanks, but no thanks. My stomach, still queasy, revolted. Bile burned my throat. I swallowed, and scorched my esophagus again. “I’m not hungry,” I rasped. Leaving my family flabbergasted, I headed for the stairs. On the first step, I stopped and turned back to my husband. “And Roy? Change Luke’s diaper before buzzards start circling the house.”
    In my bedroom, I dropped my purse near the closet door, stripped out of my uniform, tossed on a nightshirt, and hit my mattress like an Olympic diver.
    Tomorrow. I’d deal with everything tomorrow.
     
    ****
     
    Francesca
     
    No sense in denying, a dressed-up Josh could make a nun’s mouth water. One look at that handsome face topping a navy sports coat, blue-and-white-striped shirt, and dress slacks, and my heart sighed. I was also relieved I’d chosen to wear my melon-colored sheath dress with a simple gold and coral cuff on one wrist and black open-toed pumps with two-inch heels. An extra piece of jewelry or a higher heel would have made me too dressy; lower heels or my boucle sweater and jeans would have been too casual. By sheer luck, I’d struck the perfect complement to my escort.
    Josh took his approval a step further. “Wow,” he exclaimed through a deep exhale. “You were worth every bump and cut I had to get to talk to you.”
    At the mention of his injuries, I couldn’t resist the urge to check on my latest handiwork. I pushed away a dark brown curl that dipped to his forehead and touched the line I’d glued only a few days ago. Healing perfectly. “Looks good,” I said. “You’re lucky you’ve got an excellent doctor.”
    He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me up against him. “I’m lucky she’s also my girlfriend.”
    I froze. Girlfriend. I hadn’t been any man’s “girlfriend” in years. How was I supposed to respond? With that one word, I went from sophisticated woman to prom date, and the gap in our ages widened to Grand Canyon size.
    For Josh, still in his twenties, whatever went on between us was a fun fling—a few laughs, a dinner or two, and then adios , on to something new. While I no longer waited for Prince Charming to show up at my door, I was also too old to play the dating for kicks game. I needed someone serious, someone ready to settle down, someone solid. Someone