Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late) (10 page)

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Authors: Donna McDonald

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BOOK: Dating A Silver Fox (Never Too Late)
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His heart melted at the sight of her standing apprehensively on his doorstep, so obviously confused about being there. Morrie realized then that he should have called her, should have told Jane to tell Lydia why he wouldn’t be there. But he hadn’t been one hundred percent sure Lydia would even care that he had disappeared without a word.

Until now.

“Morrison,” Lydia said, her throat tight as her gaze raked over him. He looked tired, she thought. “How are you? I’m sorry—I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”

Morrie waved her inside, too shocked at her condolence to reply.

Lydia sighed and stepped into the spacious foyer, looking up at the tiny chandelier and around at the polished wood surfaces everywhere.

“Nice condo,” she said, trying for casual conversation. His silence was unnerving her. Morrison was usually a chatterbox, and it was weird for him to be so quiet.

“I still live in my house, but it’s really too big for one person. This is a very nice space,” Lydia said quietly.

Morrie nodded. “Thanks,” he said quietly back. “Jane tell you what happened?”

“Yes,” Lydia said, lifting her chin. “It’s not like your daughter was sharing all your family secrets or anything. Jane just came by to see the decorating and it came up in our conversation.”

“Really? Just casual conversation, eh? Didn’t you miss me enough to ask where I was?” Morrie demanded, goading her for reasons he wasn’t clear about.

“My, you do think highly of yourself, don’t you?” Lydia said, tone heavy with sarcasm.

From a distant room, a woman’s voice called out his name, asking him who was at the door. Lydia stiffened, her face flushing with embarrassment. Morrison didn’t answer the summons, just continued to stare at her.

“I see I’ve come at a bad time. My best to your family, Morrison. Don’t worry about the project. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Lydia, none of us has it all under control—trust me,” Morrie said.

Turning towards the door to leave, Lydia was shocked to feel his hands gripping her arms, more shocked to feel him turning her back around forcibly to face him. Another time she might have fought his actions, but disbelief about it being real had her bending to his will before having time to think.

Then she was being held and hugged tightly—so tightly in fact that she almost couldn’t take in air.

“Morrison! Not so tight, I can’t breathe,” she choked.

Gently, Morrie pulled away, looking down into the face of a woman who seemed willing to go pretty far outside her comfort zone for him. That said a lot about her character. It said even more about how much he meant to her whether she was willing to admit it yet or not.

He heard his name called again but ignored it, lifting Lydia’s chin with a knuckle. “Worried you interrupted something here?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I be?” Lydia exclaimed, huffing out a breath again after he had hugged her so hard without warning.

“I like the idea of you being jealous, but there’s no reason for you to be. The woman is my sister,” Morrie whispered fiercely, lips closing over Lydia’s shocked ones.

She stood frozen in his arms, not moving, not responding. When Morrie pulled away from her unresponsive mouth, he searched for signs of disinterest but only saw signs of distress.

“What?” he asked gently. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I—I haven’t kissed a man in more than twenty years,” she admitted in a whisper. “I think I forgot how. And I was never really all that good at it anyway.”

“It’s okay. I’m a professional,” Morrie promised huskily, caressing her cheek and dipping his head back down to prove his point. He couldn’t believe his muscles were so taut with excitement just holding her.

Lydia stiffened in alarm and pulled away when the woman called out for the third time. “No—I didn’t come for this. I just came by to check on you. Now I have. You need to see to your—
sis—sister
. I’ll see you sometime soon. Okay?”

“Okay. Thank you for coming to check on me,” Morrie whispered. “It means a lot to me that you would. I’m going to ask Jane for your phone number.”

“Fine. That’s fine,” Lydia said, nodding as she fled.

Morrie watched Lydia until she’d disappeared down the hall and around the corner to the elevators.

As he closed his front door, he took out his phone and quickly sent Jane a text to thank her. He was lucky in his children—lucky in many ways.

“Do we have more company?” Rachel asked, coming into the hallway. “Don’t send them away, Morrie. I’m okay. Everyone is being so kind. Who was it?”

“A friend of mine who just found out today,” Morrie said. “Maybe more than a friend. I hope more.”

Rachel reached out a hand and rubbed his arm. “Tired of being a swinging bachelor already?”

“You sound worse than Jane. I admit I’ve been dating, but I only slept with two of them. That’s not exactly setting any swinging single records,” Morrie joked. “I never fell in love with any woman up to now.”

“Up to now? That sounds intriguing,” Rachel said, laughing softly, but without the humor her brother usually could so easily evoke in everyone he met. Humor had eluded her for many days.

“I can’t even imagine how hard it is to spend time with a stranger after being married all your life. Kevin was sick a long time, but not having him at all now is much worse than I thought it would be. The only consolation is that I know he’s out of pain. I’m relieved and depressed all at the same time. It’s terrible,” she confessed. “I thought I had grieved it all out when he fell into the coma.”

Morrie put an arm around his sister’s shoulders, guiding her back to his living room. “All you can do is go through this one day at a time until you wake up one morning and realize that you have to start living again. When that time comes for you, I’ll be there, Rachel.”

Rachel patted his hand as she sniffed back tears. “I’m so tired of crying. You are a great brother, Morrison Fox. If you really want to help, I’d rather you just show me how to find happiness again. Right now, I can’t imagine how you find a good person at our age.”

“Oh, I think I’ve already found the right one for me, but Jane doesn’t like her,” Morrie said.

“Why ever not?” Rachel asked, taking up her seat on the couch again. She put a handful of used tissues on the end table, taking several fresh ones from the box Morrie had put there for her.

“Well for one thing, she’s not very sweet,” Morrie said carefully. “Lydia is spicy, and a little goes a long way. I don’t even know what I see in her myself.”

Despite the squeezing pressure around her heart, Rachel laughed at Morrie’s obvious interest in the mystery woman. “You seriously like her, don’t you? I hear it in your voice.”

Morrie shrugged. “Liking her is not easy, but I’m certainly attracted. I think she is too, though she says otherwise. To want a person—and badly—that’s like winding back the clock several decades. It feels strange as hell, but it’s also the most exciting thing I’ve felt in years. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

Rachel leaned back and lifted her legs to curl up under her. “Not to me—and not for you. Evelyn was sweet. I can see why you’d want something different this time around. I don’t know about the attraction thing. Kevin was all I ever wanted. All those years and it never changed for me.”

Morrie nodded. “That was Lydia at the door a moment ago. She came by to check on me. Her condolences came with insults when she heard you and got jealous. When I kissed her, she confessed she hadn’t kissed anyone in over twenty years. Then she heard you again and ran away.”

Rachel gasped. “My God, Morrie—you’ve have found an anomaly. She sounds perfect for you.”

“What does that mean?” Morrie demanded, a little offended by his sister’s pronouncement, wondering if grief was taking Rachel down a black hole of confusion.

“What do I mean? Come on—you know what I mean. You’re so bossy and picky about every little thing. You’d run over most women with your strong personality. I bet you can’t stand the ones always saying to you ‘Yes, Morrie’ or ‘Of course, Morrie.’ I’m your sister, so don’t lie. You know you’d be bored silly in a week with that kind of woman,” Rachel said, giving him a knowing look.

“Lydia calls me Morrison. Not even mom got away with that,” Morrie said. “Sixty-two and I still hate that name. Why couldn’t I just be Eli?”

Rachel laughed. Since her parents had insisted on using his given name, their mother had played her brother’s game about calling him what he wanted, but Meredith Fox hadn’t been fooled for a minute. She had just saved using his whole name for chastising, which had been often with her wicked brother.

“So tell me the important stuff, what temple does your mystery woman attend?” Rachel asked, picking up the conversation. It was better than talking endlessly about losing Kevin. Plus she was wondering if she knew the woman.

When Morrie pursed his lips and shook his head, Rachel laughed outright.

“No. Way. Morrison Eli Fox. A shiksa? You—the man who once wanted to be trained to be a rabbi—is interested in a non-Jewish woman. Boy, she must be something special. How’s that going to work?” Rachel asked on a laugh.

“Same way it works with Jewish women I hope. Otherwise, I’m about to have an adventure of biblical proportions,” Morrie said. “I intend to talk her into bed. But with Lydia’s past, it’s going to be harder than seducing a virgin. I think she hates men.”

Rachel’s laughter bounced around the room. “My husband died two days ago and you’ve got me laughing like I haven’t got a care in the world. You’re amazing, you know that? Kevin is probably shaking his head wherever he is. I’m being so disrespectful.”

“Her marriage was in name only and she doesn’t date. But you should see her. She looks as young as you. I’m telling you, Rachel, the woman is an unpicked grape, and I intend to make wine out of her,” Morrie said, grinning as he remembered making that declaration to Lydia.

“James Joyce. James freaking Joyce? You’re seducing your shiksa just like you used to do to the girls in college. Morrison Fox, you are a pig—an absolute sixty-two-year-old
pig
,” Rachel spat, laughing more and wiping at her eyes. “Look at me. You should be ashamed. I should be in mourning. So disrespectful.”

“You’ll have a lot of time to mourn. And then one day you will stop,” Morrie said. “You might even find a goy when you do. We can compare stories then.”

“Never. I’m not dating outside my faith. Dad would come back and haunt me. If I ever get the urge, I’ll ask the women at temple to hook me up with a nice Jewish man,” Rachel vowed, laughing.

Rachel doubted there would ever be room in her heart for anyone else. Kevin had been her soul mate. She couldn’t imagine another man ever meaning that much to her, and wasn’t even sure she wanted to care that much again. Right now, she just wanted peace.

“You’re only fifty-five, Rachel. I’m not going to let you wither on the vine either,” Morrie said sagely, raising one eyebrow.


Wither on the vine
—Morrie, you’re so awful.” Rachel stood, took a throw pillow, and bopped her older brother in the chest. “So disrespectful. First chance I get, I’m going to warn your shiksa about your vile seducer ways. Obviously, you’ve reverted.”

Morrie smiled as he watched Rachel walk off to the guestroom. The doorbell rang and he went answer it, hoping it was Lydia again, but not surprised when it was someone bringing more food.

Two miracles in one day was a lot to ask.

Chapter 8

 

Ann met her boss as she came through the door, taking her coat and purse while handing her a white doctor’s frock already pinned with the
Dr. Logan
nameplate.

“The first patient is in room two. The nine o’clock opted to reschedule. You can use all the time for the new client until ten,” Ann recited.

“Bless you,” Regina said, slipping her arms in her frock. “You’ve earned your raise this year, Ann.”

“Great. Thanks to you, I’m pregnant and going to need it,” Ann said stoically.

Regina stopped and reached out to hug the woman. “I told you forty-two wasn’t too old. You know my friend Lauren is working on her second child. Well, at least she’s going to be soon. Chart on the door?”

“Yes, ma’am. Newbie. But you should read the chart first, it’s. . .” Ann started, but Regina Logan had already lifted the clipboard from the door and slipped inside the room. There was nothing left to do but shake her head about who Dr. Logan was going to find inside.

“Good morning,” Regina said brightly, looking at the chart instead of the patient. “So sorry I’m running late on your first visit but I . . .
Oh shit—Lydia?
What are you doing here?”

Lydia sat up straighter in the chair. “Hello, Regina. Sorry if I’ve surprised you. Is it okay if I call you that instead of Dr. Logan? We’ve known each other so long now, it seems strange to call you by your title, but I will if you prefer to set that tone for our—I guess you call them
consultations
.”

Regina stopped for a moment and froze. “You’re here to see me? In a professional capacity? As a—
patient
?”

“Yes,” Lydia said, her voice soft. She cleared her throat and told herself to speak up. “Yes. I am here to see you in a professional capacity.”

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