Love at First Flight by Marie Force Page A

You could order a pizza
for dinner.” Juliana doubted she would bother. If someone wasn't there to make
sure she ate, all she did was drink.
    “Stop hovering.”
    “There's chicken parm for tonight. I
want you to eat it, do you hear me?”
    “Go to work, Juliana.”
    Juliana turned and left the room without
another word. Why do I bother? If she
wants to drink herself to death, maybe I should just let her. No one else cares
if she does. Why do I?
    Driving back to Butchers Hill on Eastern
Avenue, Juliana pondered those questions. Born eight years after Vincent,
Juliana knew she had been an accident. Her oldest sister and brother, Serena
and Domenic, fled the moment they graduated from high school. Both had families
on the West Coast that Juliana barely knew. Hell, she barely knew them. They
moved out before she was six. She couldn't blame them for running for their
lives after they endured some of the worst years of their parents' marriage.
Donatella and Vincent lived in Baltimore but only bothered with their mother
when Juliana guilted them into it.
    All her life Juliana had been the adult
in her relation-ship with her mother. Maybe
it's my fault she can't do anything for herself. Maybe if I just stopped she
would have to deal with the mess she's made of her life. Even as she
thought it, though, Juliana knew she could never act on it.
    Her mood lifted when she parked on
Collington Street. Without even a glance at her own front door, Juliana walked
into Mrs. Romanello's cluttered house. “Hello!”
    “Back here!”
    The first thing Juliana saw when she
walked into the kitchen was the huge vase of at least two-dozen fragrant red
roses. “Oh, wow! Who sent you flowers?”
    Mrs. Romanello kissed Juliana's cheek. “They're
not for me, hon.” She handed the card to Juliana.
    Startled, Juliana said, “For me?”
    Mrs. R nodded. “Open it.”
    Juliana fumbled with the envelope and
pulled out the card. “88 days. I love you. Jeremy.”
    “Jeremy?” Mrs. R asked.
    Juliana nodded and blinked back tears.
    Mrs. R reached for Juliana's hand. “Did
something happen this weekend?”
    “Why do you ask?”
    “Tears and two dozen roses? Something
happened.”
    “I really don't want to talk about it,
okay?”
    “Of course. How about some coffee or
breakfast?”
    Mrs. R, who was widowed with four
children scattered around the country, loved to feed her and Jeremy. “I'm good,
thanks,” Juliana said with a smile for her friend. “I need to get to work. Why
don't you keep the flowers and enjoy them?”
    “Don't be foolish. Take them over to
your house.”
    “Um, I'm actually staying with a friend
right now.”
    Mrs. R's eyes narrowed. “What friend are
you staying with? What's going on, Juliana?”
    “Jeremy and I are taking a break. It's
nothing, really. We just need a breather to figure some things out.”
    “I don't like the sound of that. People
who love each other don't take breaks.”
    Ouch. “It'll be fine,” Juliana said with
more certainty than she felt. “I'll take the flowers to the salon.” She tipped
the vase over the sink to dump out the water.
    “Where are you staying?”
    “With a friend. I'm fine. I promise.”
Juliana kissed her. “I've got to go.”
    Mrs. R took hold of Juliana's chin, her
wise old eyes scanning Juliana's face. “You're not fine. I know you. But I won't push. You know where I am if you
need me.”
    “Yes. Thank you.” Juliana hugged her,
picked up the roses, and left.
    At the salon she deposited the roses on
the reception desk. The salon was all glass, track lighting, mirrors, light
wood floors, and modern art. Juliana loved the clean, stylish look of the place
and the fragrant scent of the beauty in the air.
    “Where'd you get them?” her friend Carol
asked. “Jeremy?”
    Juliana nodded.
    “Uh oh. What'd he do?”
    “Since when do roses mean trouble?”
    “A dozen red roses means I love you,”
Carol said, following Juliana to the break room to stash their coats