delivering that morning.
“I’d bet on June Cleaver,” Rita said with a laugh. “The woman lives in River Oaks, so she probably wears pearls, even to bed. I’ll be surprised if she isn’t wearing a silk dress and high heels.” .
“Well, I’ll soon find out.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to deliver this to her? It has stopped raining, but the roads are still a little slick.”
“No, I’ll do it. I’ve been stuck inside for the last week and I’m beginning to get cabin fever. It’ll do me good to get out for a while.” Lauren replied.
“And, of course, your curiosity about Jordan’s mother has nothing to do with it.”
“Absolutely not. As far as I’m concerned, she’s just another faceless delivery.” But even as she denied it, Lauren knew she wasn’t being totally honest with either Rita or herself. For the last couple of months she had let Rita take over the majority of deliveries, especially if it meant carrying something heavy or being out in inclement weather. “Okay, okay, so I am just the teensiest bit curious about this woman,” she admitted ruefully. “I’m hoping she will be so snotty and cold that it will take away whatever guilt feelings I might have about depriving her of a grandchild.”
“You probably won’t even get a chance to meet her. She’ll likely be out having her hair done or her diamonds cleaned or whatever it is that the very wealthy do to occupy their time.”
As Lauren drove her bright-pink panel van along the busy city streets, she, too, doubted that she would actually meet Mrs. Daniels. Soon she was winding her way along Willowick looking for the four-thousand block. She passed mansion after mansion in many different architectural styles, but all in the same extremely expensive price range. It was difficult to imagine Jordan, with his casual, unpretentious style, growing up in any one of these palatial houses. He didn’t even wear designer jeans, she thought, remembering how his blue Levi’s had been molded to his long muscular legs and narrow hips.
Good grief! She hadn’t realized she had noticed such details of his anatomy. Her subconscious mind must be less loyal to Johnny’s memory than her conscious mind. In the months following Johnny’s death, she had been certain she would never be attracted to another man. But here she was thinking about Jordan’s body in a manner that could hardly be called indifferent.
She spotted the numbers 4021 on an oversize mailbox that was shaped like an old-fashioned stable and quickly dismissed Jordan’s Levi’s from her mind. Carefully turning the van onto the brick driveway, Lauren caught her first glimpse of the Daniels’s estate. Huge oaks that must be hundreds of years old dotted the acre or so of front yard. The lawn consisted of perfectly manicured emerald green grass, with shrubs that had been trimmed into a short square hedge lining both sides of the driveway. Azaleas, thickly covered with blossoms in several different shades of pink, had been planted around the trunks of all the trees and in the flower beds next to the house.
Being in the flower business, it was natural that she should notice the plants first, but now that she had rounded a bend in the circular driveway, she got her first good look at the house. It was large, but not as imposing as the Tara replica down the street or the stone castle next door. Antique brick, white stucco and heavy stained beams combined to make a cozy looking Tudor-style home. Sunlight twinkled in the diamond-shaped panes in the front windows, with brightly colored stained glass scattered randomly among the clear glass. The roof was an interesting combination of peaks and pitches with chimneys at both ends.
It was a beautiful house, but surprisingly homey-looking. As Lauren walked up the brick steps to the carved double doors, she couldn’t help but notice several large pots of a variety of healthy-looking spring
“I’d bet on June Cleaver,” Rita said with a laugh. “The woman lives in River Oaks, so she probably wears pearls, even to bed. I’ll be surprised if she isn’t wearing a silk dress and high heels.” .
“Well, I’ll soon find out.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to deliver this to her? It has stopped raining, but the roads are still a little slick.”
“No, I’ll do it. I’ve been stuck inside for the last week and I’m beginning to get cabin fever. It’ll do me good to get out for a while.” Lauren replied.
“And, of course, your curiosity about Jordan’s mother has nothing to do with it.”
“Absolutely not. As far as I’m concerned, she’s just another faceless delivery.” But even as she denied it, Lauren knew she wasn’t being totally honest with either Rita or herself. For the last couple of months she had let Rita take over the majority of deliveries, especially if it meant carrying something heavy or being out in inclement weather. “Okay, okay, so I am just the teensiest bit curious about this woman,” she admitted ruefully. “I’m hoping she will be so snotty and cold that it will take away whatever guilt feelings I might have about depriving her of a grandchild.”
“You probably won’t even get a chance to meet her. She’ll likely be out having her hair done or her diamonds cleaned or whatever it is that the very wealthy do to occupy their time.”
As Lauren drove her bright-pink panel van along the busy city streets, she, too, doubted that she would actually meet Mrs. Daniels. Soon she was winding her way along Willowick looking for the four-thousand block. She passed mansion after mansion in many different architectural styles, but all in the same extremely expensive price range. It was difficult to imagine Jordan, with his casual, unpretentious style, growing up in any one of these palatial houses. He didn’t even wear designer jeans, she thought, remembering how his blue Levi’s had been molded to his long muscular legs and narrow hips.
Good grief! She hadn’t realized she had noticed such details of his anatomy. Her subconscious mind must be less loyal to Johnny’s memory than her conscious mind. In the months following Johnny’s death, she had been certain she would never be attracted to another man. But here she was thinking about Jordan’s body in a manner that could hardly be called indifferent.
She spotted the numbers 4021 on an oversize mailbox that was shaped like an old-fashioned stable and quickly dismissed Jordan’s Levi’s from her mind. Carefully turning the van onto the brick driveway, Lauren caught her first glimpse of the Daniels’s estate. Huge oaks that must be hundreds of years old dotted the acre or so of front yard. The lawn consisted of perfectly manicured emerald green grass, with shrubs that had been trimmed into a short square hedge lining both sides of the driveway. Azaleas, thickly covered with blossoms in several different shades of pink, had been planted around the trunks of all the trees and in the flower beds next to the house.
Being in the flower business, it was natural that she should notice the plants first, but now that she had rounded a bend in the circular driveway, she got her first good look at the house. It was large, but not as imposing as the Tara replica down the street or the stone castle next door. Antique brick, white stucco and heavy stained beams combined to make a cozy looking Tudor-style home. Sunlight twinkled in the diamond-shaped panes in the front windows, with brightly colored stained glass scattered randomly among the clear glass. The roof was an interesting combination of peaks and pitches with chimneys at both ends.
It was a beautiful house, but surprisingly homey-looking. As Lauren walked up the brick steps to the carved double doors, she couldn’t help but notice several large pots of a variety of healthy-looking spring
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