Free Heartache and Hope by Mary Manners

her purse over one shoulder. The gesture was so slight and fleeting that Daylin figured she’d imagined the whole thing. “You’re not going to turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of nine.”
    “I suppose I could grab a salad. I skipped dinner.” And lunch…not to mention breakfast. Not a good start to the training regime. She’d have to find a balance concerning calories and training time.
    “Now, that’s the spirit.” Frannie nodded vigorously. “Climb on board, Patrick. This ship’s about to set sail.”
    “Are you sure?” Patrick jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he addressed his mother. “You’ll have to be back in the morning to homeschool Aubree, and it’s already inching toward nine o’clock.”
    “Of course I’m sure, and, for the record, I can tell time. Feel free to chit-chat past midnight, if you’d like. We’ve already asserted that Daylin is safe from the pumpkin change and, at my age, I couldn’t morph into a pumpkin if I wanted to.” Frannie waggled a hand as a short huff of laughter spilled over. Her smoky eyes twinkled merrily. “Now, just hand me Aubree’s coat and hat, and we’ll be on our way.”
    “I suppose I can’t argue with that.” Patrick reached for the pint-sized outer wear, piled in the booth’s seat. “Let me help you get the little cherub ready to go.”
    Daylin looked on as Patrick helped Aubree into her jacket and wool cap. He topped things off by wrapping his own trench coat, like a blanket, over her shoulders.
    “It was good to see you again, Daylin.” With a slight nod and a smile that made Daylin feel as if she’d known Frannie for a lifetime, the kind woman turned to leave. She glanced back over her shoulder and added, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon. I’ll call you about that luncheon. I’ll get your number from Patrick.”
    “It was nice to see you, too.” Daylin returned the smile, a flush of warmth spreading through her that chased any chill away. Her eyes stayed glued to Frannie as she retreated, aware of the light slap of snow boots over tile as Frannie wound her way toward the exit.
    “Well…” Patrick watched his mother go, scratching his head as he blew out a breath. “That was Mom at her finest. If we’re going to train together, I suppose you’re in for more of that.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “About a year after Sandra died, Mom began to think of herself as Yenta from Fiddler on the Roof . The past few months she’s really cranked things up a notch.”
    “Yenta?” Daylin drew a blank for a moment before realization dawned. Her cheeks heated. “Oh… the matchmaker.”
    “That’s right.”
    “I…see.” So he really didn’t want to spend time with her. He was simply appeasing Frannie. Why did this come as such a disappointment?
    “Yeah. You’d have to be blind not to.”
    “Don’t be too hard on her.” Daylin shrugged it off as she felt old, familiar bricks strategically form a wall around her heart. “She’s just looking out for you.”
    “I can look out for myself.”
    Keep your distance warned a small, sharp voice inside Daylin. Guard yourself. You don’t want to get hurt again.
    But this was Patrick. He wouldn’t hurt her…at least not intentionally, would he?
    Daylin plastered on the smile she’d perfected over the years—one that stretched her lips but failed to reach her eyes. “I’m sure Frannie’s just concerned for you…and for Aubree.”
    “Well, Aubree and I are just fine but I suppose it won’t hurt to make the best of things.”
    “No, I suppose it won’t.” And another brick was neatly placed. Slap, splat went the mortar.
    Patrick stepped toward the now-empty booth as the door closed behind Frannie. Through the glass Daylin watched the woman cross the boulevard with Aubree in her arms, zig-zagging toward a black SUV framed in a wash of moonlight. Patrick watched, as well, shaking his head slightly at Frannie’s resolve. “It’s settled, then. I’m