He chose to ignore that. "You did a good job with her."

"She did it herself. You have your work cut out for you, you know."

"Nothing that's worthwhile is easily obtained."

Chuckling, Mae pulled out lettuce and some other vegetables from the refrigerator. "Then this is obviously priceless."

"I'm surprised you agreed to let me stay here with you," he said as he watched her put together a salad. "I'd have thought you'd tell me to get away from Olivia too."

She kept her head bent over the salad bowl. "I want great-grandchildren."

"That's hardly contingent on me or Michael."

"It's time to put the past to rest. Olivia says she's moved on but she hasn't. She can't. Not until you two settle things." She reached for a knife. "Besides, that girl's still in love with Michael."

"I would have thought you'd be against me getting them back together."

"You're trying to set a wrong right. Nothing bad about that. You going to tell her why you left her here after Lily died?" Mae asked, setting the salad on the table and looking into his eyes.

Stifling the urge to squirm under her knowing gaze, he said, "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do."

He leaned back in his chair with deceptive calm. "Why don't you elucidate?"

"That it broke your heart to look at her after Lily died in that accident, because Olivia's her spitting image."

He kept his expression blank. "I didn't have time to raise a five year old child."

Mae harrumphed. "You couldn't stand looking into eyes that were just like Lily's and remembering what you lost."

Forcing his jaw to relax, he asked, "Is that really what you think?"

"It's what I know." She patted her chest. "Deep down in here. I remember how you loved Lily. I watched you after she died. I should've done something about that." Walking over to the cabinet, she pulled out dinner plates. "Go wash up for dinner."

It wasn't often he was dismissed. He stood up, frowning. He should have brought a bottle of scotch with him. He'd have Elaine get him one in the morning.

As he turned to leave, Mae's voice stopped him. "The man you were is still inside you, Everett. He's buried, but alive. He deserves happiness too."

Parker looked over his shoulder, catching Mae give him one of her queerly intent looks. "We both know that isn't true," he said as he walked out, conscious of his former mother-in-law's too-knowing gaze following him.

Chapter Five.

Olivia rang the doorbell three times and then banged on the door for good measure. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wishing she'd changed into more comfortable shoes before running out of the house.

"Come on," she murmured, pulling her coat closer to her body. "It's cold."

Just as she raised her fist to knock again, the door swung open. Eve blinked, a frown marring the smooth ivory skin of her forehead.

"About time," Olivia said. "I thought I was going to turn into an icicle." She pushed past Eve and headed straight for the kitchen.

Treat looked up from his dinner as she walked in.

"Hey Treat." She picked up Eve's wine gla.s.s and took a fortifying gulp.

"Make yourself at home, Olivia," Eve said, sitting back down at the table.

"Thanks." Olivia didn't bother acknowledging the less than faint sarcasm. She slipped out of her coat, draped it over a chair, and sat across from Eve before picking up the wine again.

She looked up to see both Treat and Eve arching their brows at her. "This is good wine," she said.

Treat grinned. "I'm surprised you tasted it."

"Actually, I didn't. I was just being polite." She drained the gla.s.s and held it out. "But if you fill it up, I promise I'll savor it this time."

"What's wrong?" Eve asked, frowning at her husband as he refilled Olivia's gla.s.s to the brim.

"What isn't wrong?" Olivia sipped a little to prevent the wine from sloshing over. She caught the look that pa.s.sed between them and, for the first time ever, felt a twinge of envy.

Treat pushed back from the table. "I think that's my cue to get lost."

Olivia stopped him with a hand on his forearm. "Finish your dinner. I'm the one who barged in." She looked at Eve. "You too. Eat. I'll just sit here and enjoy this lovely vintage."

"Are you already getting tipsy?" her friend asked suspiciously.

"I sincerely hope so." Olivia leaned her head back, clutching her gla.s.s in both hands.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Olivia pursed her lips. "Didn't I get a scone with my latte this morning?"

"No wonder you're loopy after one gla.s.s of wine. We have plenty of food. I'll get you a plate." Eve stood up.

"Michael's back," Olivia said, staring at the ceiling.

"Michael?"

Olivia nodded. "Michael Wallace."

"Who's Michael Wallace?"

"My one true love."

Eve dropped back down.

"You'd think it couldn't get much worse than having the only man who ever broke your heart suddenly show up after eleven years." Olivia frowned. "Actually, he didn't break my heart. He ripped it from my chest, mashed it to a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp, and then stomped on it for good measure. But I'm over him."

"Sounds like it," Eve said dryly.

"That should have been the low point of my day, right? Wrong." She banged her fist on the table.

"Careful." Treat took her hand and held it in his. "Whatever happened couldn't be worth hurting yourself."

"You don't know what happened."

"So why don't you tell us," Eve suggested calmly.

"I get home tonight and find out that Gran is letting my father stay at the farmhouse."

Eve gasped. "Knowing how you feel about him? Why would she do that?"

"Because she's a perverse old bag." Olivia took the wine bottle and refilled her gla.s.s. "Actually, Parker probably conned her into it. She never had a chance."

"Your grandmother?" Eve asked incredulously. "Somehow, I have a hard time imagining that."

Olivia pointed a finger at her. "Don't underestimate that slick b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"I can see you women are going to need another bottle of wine. Why don't you take it into the living room and I'll bring it out. I'll even turn the fireplace on for you." He dropped a kiss on Eve's lips before gathering the plates and taking them to the sink.

"That man is unbelievable. Aren't you glad you listened to me and hooked up with him?" She got up and wobbled on her platform shoes.

"Hey, you okay there?" Eve reached out to steady her.

"My feet are killing me." She bent over and slipped one shoe off before toeing the other one off as well. Not bothering to pick them up, she went into the living room and dropped onto one corner of the couch.

Eve followed a moment later, carrying two clean, empty wine gla.s.ses and a box of saltines. "You don't mind if I join you, do you? Or would you rather have the entire bottle to yourself?"

"You're such a wench," Olivia said good-naturedly. "Here I am, in my time of need, and all you can do is harangue me. If I wanted hara.s.sment, I would've stayed at Gran's."

"Gran wouldn't let you drink out your sorrows."

"I've got no sorrows. Just two back-stabbing, evil b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who won't leave me alone." She glanced at Treat, who came opening a bottle with another tucked under his arm. "You wouldn't happen to know any hitmen with reasonable rates, would you?" she asked him as he filled their gla.s.ses.

"I'll have to check my Rolodex." He leaned over and gave Eve a long and lingering kiss. "I'll be in my office, baby."

Eve smiled at him, her eyes dreamy and warm. "Okay."

He tucked her hair behind her ear and, with a wink to Olivia, left them to talk.

Olivia took a sip. s.e.xy, rich, and he picked excellent wine. "I'm jealous."

"Of?"

"You." At Eve's startled look, Olivia rolled her eyes. "You can't seriously be surprised."

"Of course I am."

"Aside from the fact that you have a terrific man, you have a cla.s.sic style I could never pull off, your hair is always sheveled, and you have perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s."

"Sheveled?"

"The opposite of disheveled, like my untamable fro." She shook her head exaggeratedly to prove her point. A lock flew into her mouth. She had to blow several times to get it out.

"You have beautiful hair, and I'd kill to have your body-"

"Big b.o.o.bs are overrated," Olivia injected.

"-And you could have any man you wanted. I've seen men drop to their knees and beg for you."

Olivia shrugged as she drank a little, relaxing into the nice, numbing buzz. "Also overrated."

"Are you going to tell me what all this is about or do I have to flog it out of you?"

"You get kinky after a couple gla.s.ses of wine."

"Thanks to you I've barely had an ounce. My gla.s.s was full when you stole it."

Olivia tried to remember but there was only gray fuzz, kind of like a TV that wasn't getting reception. "Nope, can't recall."

"Tell me about this business with your one true love and your father before I strangle you."

Olivia sighed. "I haven't talked about this for eleven years. It's not easy suddenly opening up."

"Then it'll be good to get it out of your system." Eve topped off both their gla.s.ses and settled back, wiggling to get comfortable. "Okay, I'm ready. No-wait." She handed Olivia a couple crackers. "Nibble on these as you talk."

Olivia wrinkled her nose at the saltines, set them down, and drank more wine instead. "Michael was my best friend from the time we were six, the first day of first grade. We hung out all the time. I guess it was natural that we'd fall in love."

"When did you know?"

"Freshmen year in high school. We went to the Scandia course to race cars." She smiled nostalgically, caught up in the memory. "Michael was too impatient to play miniature golf. After some video games we went for pizza before going to a movie."

She leaned back and closed her eyes, still able to feel the zap when their fingers touched in the box of popcorn. She'd looked up at Michael. In the dark, his eyes had been luminous. He'd leaned over and kissed her. It'd been soft, a salty fluttering against her lips, and it'd stirred her heart. She'd pulled him close and kissed him harder.

Her fingers reached for the locket Michael gave her on her sixteenth birthday, the first time they'd made love. She used to grip it in her palm and think about their future and how happy they'd be.

But she didn't have it anymore. She threw it back at him that night he'd broken up with her.

She opened her eyes. She hadn't thought of the locket in ages.

"Well?" Eve prompted.