Eleven
When the doorbell chimed, Fran Wheeler was the very last person Cia expected to view through the peephole. She yanked open the door and summoned a smile for her mother-in-law. “Mrs. Wheeler. Please come in.”
“I’m sorry to drop by unexpectedly.” Fran stepped into the foyer, murmuring appreciatively at the way Cia had decorated the living room. “And please, call me Fran. Formality makes me feel old, and if I wanted to be reminded of my age, I’d look in a mirror.”
“Of course. Fran, then. Lucas isn’t home, I’m afraid.” Cia waved at the couch. “Would you like a seat? I’d be happy to get you a drink while you wait, if you’d like.”
Coolly, as only a pillar of Dallas society could, Fran cocked her head, and the chic style of her blond hair stayed firmly in place. “I’m here to see you. Lucas is with his father at a boring real estate seminar, so I took a chance you’d be home alone.”
Uh-oh. Well, she was way overdue for the tongue-lashing Fran likely wanted to give her for refusing the pearls. “Your timing is good, then. I took the day off from work. The offer of a drink still stands.”
A squawk cut her off. Fergie couldn’t stand it when someone had a conversation without her.
Fran glanced toward the back of the house. “Was that a bird?”
“A parrot.” Another squawk, louder and more insistent. “Fergie. She was a wedding present from Lucas.”
“Oh.” Fran’s raised brows indicated her clear interest, but she appeared reluctant to ask any further questions.
Cia’s fault, no doubt, as she had no idea how to break the awkward tension. The divorce loomed on the horizon. She was sleeping with this woman’s son. The mechanics of a relationship with a mother figure escaped her. The odds of successfully navigating this surprise visit were about the same as winning the lottery without buying a ticket.
Squawk.
“Fergie probably wants to meet you.” Cia shook her head. “I mean, she’s a little temperamental and likes people around. If you’re not opposed to it, we can sit in the kitchen. She’ll quiet down if we do.”
“That’s fine.” Fran followed Cia into the kitchen and immediately crossed to Fergie’s cage. “Oh, she’s precious. Does she talk?”
“When she feels like it. Say hello to her. Sometimes that works.”
Cia poured two glasses of iced tea.
Fran and Fergie exchanged hellos several times, and Fergie went off on a tangent, first singing the national anthem and then squawking, “Play ball!” to the older woman’s delight. Fran laughed and praised the bird for a good five minutes. Cia wasn’t about to interrupt.
Finally, Fran joined Cia at the breakfast table and sipped her tea. “The last few weeks have been difficult, and I wanted to thank you for the shoulder. It meant a lot to me that you stayed with us the afternoon Andy’s father died and then all through the funeral and…” She took a deep breath. “Well, you know, you were there. So thanks.”
“Oh, um, you’re welcome.” Cia’s tongue felt too big for her mouth, swollen by the sincerity of Fran’s tremulous smile. “I know how it feels to lose a parent. I was glad to do what I could.”
“You’re very good for Lucas—did you know that? Andy says you’re all he talks about at work. My boys are everything to me, and I’m grateful Lucas has found someone who makes him happy.” The older woman reached out and clasped Cia’s hand. “We got off on the wrong foot when I pushed too soon for a relationship with you, but I’m hopeful we can start over now.”
Cia shut her eyes for a blink. What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t just sleeping with Lucas; they were married. And it wasn’t over yet. Abuelo could still get suspicious if Fran happened to mention Cia’s aloof brush-offs. Dallas was a small town in all the worst ways.
“Fran, you aren’t to blame. It’s me.” Might as well lay it all out there. “I just don’t know how to be around a mother-in-law. Or a mother, for that matter.”
Okay, she hadn’t meant to lay it all out there. Tears stabbed at her eyelids, and Fran’s expression softened.
“There aren’t any rules, honey. Let’s just sit here, drink tea and talk. That’s all I want.”
Yeah, she could pretend all day long this was about keeping the heat off and guarding against her grandfather’s suspicions. It wasn’t. Fran was offering something she couldn’t refuse—friendship.
Cia nodded and cleared her throat. “That sounds nice. What would you like to talk about?”