Holiday in Your Heart (9 page)

“I'll take a small slice,” Sally said. “It's pure heaven, and I only had time to grab a snack for dinner.”

She was the only taker for more pie. Maribeth asked, “More tea or coffee, ladies? Maybe a liqueur? I have Baileys, Grand Marnier, and Kahlúa.”

“Ooh, yum!” Cassidy said promptly. “Grand Marnier for me, please.”

Sally said, “Better not, since I'm driving.”

“Me, too,” Jess said regretfully. “Though I do love Baileys.”

“Go ahead,” Brooke, who'd also come with Jess, said. “I'll drive us home.” She and her husband and little girl lived down the road from Jess's family.

“Best mother-in-law in the world,” Jess said. “Yes please to a Baileys, MB.”

“Lark?” Maribeth asked, beginning to gather the empty plates.

“Thanks, but I can't. I'm on call tonight.” Although the fire chief worked regular weekday hours, she and the other firefighters were on call most evenings and weekends.

Brooke had risen and was collecting the mugs. The two women went into the kitchen where Maribeth put the kettle on to boil and set the coffeemaker to brew another pot.

After glancing around to make sure the others were still in the front room, Maribeth said, “Brooke, there's something I need to ask you.”

The blonde leaned a hip against the kitchen table. “Yes, I told Evan and Jess.” She sounded weary. “Evan said he didn't want to see Mo. Ever.”

“Oh God. I'd hoped—”

Brooke held up a hand, stopping her. “When Evan first came back to Caribou Crossing, he refused to see me. Jess tried to talk him into it, but he was adamant. Eventually he changed his mind, thank God.”

Maribeth, standing by the coffeemaker, nodded.

“Mo says he's a changed man,” Brooke went on, “and I find myself believing him. If I could change so drastically, why couldn't he? Maribeth, I
want
to believe him, but how can I know for sure? How can I
know
he's trustworthy? For me personally, it's not such a big deal. I have a whole wonderful life now, with the best family in the world. Mo has no power over me.”

Her face tightened and her blue-green eyes, normally so gentle and warm, glittered. “But I don't think the same is true for Evan. Mo is still his father. Even though Evan is close to Wade Bly, a father-in-law isn't the same thing. Mo is the dad who hurt him and abandoned him. So when Evan says he doesn't want to see Mo, I'm not so sure he's wrong.”

Maribeth's heart ached for all of them, yet to her the path seemed so obvious. “Evan had similar issues with you, but I know he's so happy that the two of you reconciled.”

A tired smile warmed Brooke's face. “Yes, he really is. But this thing with his father needs to be Evan's decision. Or at least I want it to be. I hope Mo will respect that. If he forces a meeting, it could go badly.”

Maribeth chewed her bottom lip. “They might run into each other by chance. I mean, if Mo stays.” If Evan remained adamant, would Mo leave town?

“I know.”

Their gazes held for a long moment. Then Maribeth said slowly, “There was actually something else I wanted to talk to you about.” It was a difficult subject to raise. Was she absolutely sure she wanted to see more of Mo, given all the complications surrounding him?

Yes, because of that click, the feeling of a true connection with him. She'd never felt that before, so how could she not explore it? At least if it wouldn't upset Brooke. “Do you still have feelings for Mo?”

Brooke's fair eyebrows arched. “You're kidding, right? I love Jake. Totally, exclusively, madly.”

“I know.” And how Maribeth longed to love and be loved exactly that way. Could Mo be the one? “It's just . . . Well, how would you feel if someone went out with Mo?” She swallowed. What a coward she was. “If I went out with Mo?”

Brooke's brows went even higher. “You? You and Mo?”

“Is it so unbelievable?”

“I . . . Uh, well . . .” She stopped and considered. “Believe me, I know he can be appealing. But, Maribeth . . .” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Suddenly, Maribeth was almost hyperventilating. Brooke had to say yes. Until that moment, Maribeth hadn't realized how crucial it was that Brooke agreed. But now there was only one thought in her head, an echo of something Sally Ryland had just said.
What if he's the love of my life?
What else was the click, the one she'd been waiting for all her life, about? If Mo was the one man for her, she had to find out. She had to make Brooke see.

Maribeth was almost ready to speak the scary words aloud—
What if he's the love of my life?
—when her girlfriend spoke again, her words coming slowly.

“There's the age thing—ten years between you and Mo. But then again, Jake taught me that age doesn't matter.” Her husband was several years younger than Brooke.

Maribeth nodded. Age was just a number. What mattered was staying fit, physically and mentally.

“You're just so . . . so everything he isn't,” Brooke said. “Vivacious, upbeat, outgoing. Generous, sweet-natured. Even if I give Mo the benefit of the doubt and believe that he's a reformed man, it strikes me that he's—oh, what do they call it in the movies?”

“A bad boy?”

Brooke gave a surprised chuckle. “He sure used to be. But what I was thinking was a lost soul. I can see why he'd be drawn to you—why so many men are drawn to you—but I'd worry that he might . . .” She trailed off, her expression troubled.

“Hurt me?” Maribeth asked quietly.

Brooke's lips pressed together. “Do you mean hit you? Well, he does have a history, but then so do I. I hope he's as far past it as I am—and if he ever tried anything, I know you're strong enough to deal with it. You'd have him behind bars in an instant. No, I was thinking more that he might, uh, drag you down. That his angst might dim that lovely warm flame of yours.” She blinked. “But on the other hand, I've rarely met a woman who knew herself so well and was so self-confident. How many men have you dated? And none of them has changed you yet. No, I can't see you giving any man that kind of power.”

Was there something a bit odd about that endorsement? Maybe at some point Maribeth would revisit Brooke's words and try to sort out what bothered her about them. But for now, the kettle was boiling, the coffee was ready, and the women in the living room would be wondering what was taking so long. Not to mention, her heart was still racing, hopeful about where Brooke was heading but needing that final confirmation. “Are you saying it wouldn't bother you if I dated Mo?”

Brooke shook her head. “No, it wouldn't. I think you'd be good for him. God knows, I'm not sure the poor man has ever been with a woman who's been good for him. I only hope that he's good for you, too, Maribeth. But that's for you to say, not me.”

Maribeth crossed over to her and squeezed her hand. “Thanks.” She hoped so, too. It was so disconcerting, experiencing the magical click for the first time in her life at the identical time she was shopping for a sperm donor. If Mo wasn't Mr. Right, hopefully they'd be friends and she would go ahead as planned with insemination. If he was, then she'd have an even more exciting “happily ever after.”

She put a couple of Earl Grey tea bags into the teapot and a decaf peach ginger one into her own mug and poured boiling water into both. “Brooke, could you serve the tea and coffee? I'll get the liqueurs and Sally's pie.”

When the two of them returned to the living room, the others were speculating about just how snowy a Christmas it would be.

After everyone had been served, Maribeth took her seat on the sofa and said, “I have an announcement and a request.”

“Shoot,” Cassidy said cheerfully.

“I'm thirty-nine and obviously not getting any younger. I'd always hoped to fall in love, marry, and have children. Love and marriage can come along at any stage of life, but my biological clock's running out on having a baby, and that's the thing I want most in life.”

“I can relate to that,” Sally said quietly.

“Me, too,” Lark put in. “Having done it once, I have to say it was the most incredible experience, and I can't imagine my life without Jayden. I sure wouldn't mind giving him a little sister or brother.”

Cassidy was silent. Multiple sclerosis ran in her family, and Maribeth knew that it would be a tough decision for her and Dave, whether they should have a baby.

“Anyhow,” Maribeth said, “I've been dating since I was thirteen and—”

A splutter of laughter escaped Lark. When they all turned to her, she said, “Sorry, but I was remembering that ‘men, men, men' rant you went on one day, MB. How did it go? Tall ones, short ones, black ones, white ones?”

Maribeth chuckled. “Doctors, lawyers, Indian chiefs. Yes, something like that. I've dated them all. Sweet ones and spicy ones, rich ones and poor ones, science nerds and jocks. And there's not a single one that I fell in love with. I'm not going to marry a guy just for the sake of getting married and having a baby.”

“That would be a huge mistake,” Lark agreed firmly.

“And I don't need a man,” Maribeth went on. “Except for the biological contribution. So I'm thinking seriously about using a sperm donor. I've put together a short list of men and I'm looking for input.”

Her last words were swallowed up by a flurry of exclamations and comments, as well as a pair of arched eyebrows from Brooke, who obviously thought it odd that Maribeth would date a new guy and shop for a sperm donor at the same time.

When the noise settled down, Maribeth told them about her visit to the women's clinic and her online shopping. She did not mention Mo; if things worked out with him, her friends would know soon enough. “I've chosen six prospects. Come on into the dining room and let me show you.”

The women gathered up their mugs and liqueur glasses and followed Maribeth.

Earlier, she'd moved the big flat-screen monitor from her home office upstairs and hooked it up to her laptop, along with the wireless keyboard and mouse. Now, after making sure Cassidy was seated in a comfortable chair with her leg up, Maribeth logged onto the website and navigated to the page of options she'd set up, the product of hours of browsing. It showed six head shots, along with brief biographical data: age, height, weight, race, religion, education, and occupation.

Her friends studied the screen avidly. Cassidy pointed. “I'd pick that one. He reminds me of Dave.”

The man was handsome, with medium brown hair and gray eyes, but his outstanding feature was the sense of warmth and compassion in his expression. It matched perfectly with his occupation as a family practice doctor. “Me, too,” Maribeth admitted. “That's why he's on the list.”

“This one's hot, though,” Jess said. “I mean if you like the type.” She nudged her mother-in-law. “Which you do, right, Brooke?”

The guy did look a lot like Brooke's husband, Jake, with his black hair, five o'clock shadow, and rakish grin. He was listed as a pilot.

“That one's hot, too,” Sally said, pointing to a man with beautiful near-black skin, strong features, and close-cropped black hair. “And he's a veterinarian. He loves animals, so he's got to be a good guy.”

“What about this one?” Lark asked, indicating the one redhead in the bunch. “He's not that great-looking, he's short, and he's a dentist. Nothing against any of that, but what made him stand out for you, MB?”

“Don't knock dentists,” Maribeth said. “My mom was one. The other reason I put him on the list was his red hair. Women often aren't that attracted to redheaded guys, and as a ‘ginger' myself, I wanted to at least short-list one.”

“So if you two have a son,” Cassidy joked, “women won't want to date him?”

They all laughed and Maribeth said, “Okay, you're right.” She clicked her mouse on the man's face and, feeling a pang of guilt at rejecting a fellow redhead, deleted him. “There are more detailed profiles on all of them. I'll show you.”

For the next half hour, they read, commented, and debated the pros and cons of each man. “I don't want to make a final decision tonight,” Maribeth said. “I'm having my old school friends over on Monday and I'll get their input, too. But it seems to me we're leaning toward the doctor or the vet.”

“They both sound like a good match for you, MB,” Sally said. “You're such a generous, compassionate person.”

“But remember she's not dating them,” Lark said. “This isn't about finding the most compatible guy to date, it's about finding the best genetic match.”

“I do keep losing sight of that,” Sally admitted. “It's just that I'd so love it if Maribeth did find the perfect man and they fell madly in love and had kids of their own.”

“Believe me, I'd love it, too,” Maribeth said. While Mo wasn't exactly “perfect,” could he be the man to make her dreams come true?

“Then shouldn't we be looking at an online dating site instead of a sperm donor one?” Jess asked.

“I'm not willing to waste any more time,” Maribeth said. “Remember the men, men, men thing? I've been there, done that, didn't find the man who clicked.” Until now.

“I take it that you plan to keep dating while you carry on with the sperm donor thing,” Brooke asked. Not waiting for Maribeth's answer—which, obviously, she already knew—she went on. “So would you tell your date about your sperm donor plans?” Her curious expression suggested that she didn't even consider the possibility that Maribeth might view Mo as being anything more than another in her long string of “men, men, men.”