One Mom Too Many Read online

  “Maureen! I hope you don’t use that kind of vulgar language on a regular basis.”

  “What’s vulgar? Tweetie is just a cute little yellow canary. Even a person who lives on Central Park West should know that much.”

  Bridget stared at her. “When someone does that thing with their middle finger, it has nothing do with a little yellow canary. Trust me—Maureen! Not so close to the guardrail!” Bridget gasped and covered her eyes.

  “You keep yelling and you’ll make me nervous, you will.”

  “You should be nervous. I thought you said you could drive?”

  “I’m driving!”

  Bridget peered at her through her fingers. “Do you even have a license?”

  “You didn’t ask me that, now, did you?”

  Bridget groaned again and crossed herself. “We’re going to die. I’m going to be killed in a fiery crash, incinerated by the same woman who ruined my life. I guess that’s fitting, after all. I should have known not to believe a woman who would soil a dear friend’s reputation just because of a slight accident with a tanning lamp.”

  “Slight accident! I had second-degree burns, I did! Scabs on my nose!”

  “You must have put the lotion on wrong.”

  “The lotion wasn’t any good, and you well knew it.”

  “Did not.”

  “Did so.”

  “Did not.”

  “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Maureen said.

  “I can’t hear yo-o-ou,” Bridget sang, covering her ears.

  “I don’t ca-are,” Maureen sang back. She drove in silence for a couple of miles before realizing that Bridget was the one with the directions. “Are you going to tell me where to turn, then?”

  No answer.

  “You’d better tell me, or I’ll just turn off any old place and park it.”

  “I—um—believe there was a grove of trees to the right of the highway when we turned. Yes, a grove of trees.”

  “But you don’t really know, do you? Here we are on this wild-goose chase, and you haven’t a blessed idea where the goose is!”

  “I do so know! I’m just not...sure.”

  “I could wring your neck for you, Bridget Hogan. In fact, I think I will. I—”

  “Don’t take your hands off the wheel, for God’s sake!”

  “Ha!” Maureen replaced both hands on the wheel and increased her speed to forty-two miles an hour, just for the thrill of it. “Scared you, didn’t I?”

  “I saw my dear mother coming down from heaven to meet me. I saw the pearly gates and heard the voice of St. Peter. I—”

  “Enough of that. Pick an exit. Any exit. I’m tired of this road and all these speeders rushing past me.”

  “I’ll bet they’re bloody tired of you, too,” Bridget muttered. “There! I think that’s the right one. And there’s a grove of trees, too.”

  “There’ve been about ten groves of trees along this road, all as alike as peas in a pod. This one’s no different.”

  “Turn off at this exit, Maureen.”

  “You’ll probably have fetched us up in some cow pasture, but I’m turning.” She swung the Pontiac in a wide arc and heard the screech of brakes behind her.

  “You almost ran into somebody!” Bridget cried. “Don’t turn so wide, Maureen!”

  Maureen continued on. She was rattled, but she’d never let Bridget see it. “You know those signs on big trucks? The ones that say Wide Turns, Stay Back?”

  “In case it escaped your notice, you’re not driving a truck.”

  “I know, but next time, I’m getting one of those signs. Slap it right on the bumper, I will.”

  “There won’t be a next time! You’re a menace on the roadways.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are so!”

  “Am not!” She turned her mouth up into a devilish smile. “Besides, I’m beginning to enjoy myself.”

  DANIEL HAD INSISTED on frying up a new batch of bacon to go with the eggs he scrambled with an expert hand.

  Rose sat at the kitchen table watching him, her second mug of coffee in one hand and her other reaching down to scratch St. Paddy behind his floppy ears. “I don’t remember when I’ve ever been so happy,” she said.

  Daniel flipped the bacon in the skillet and glanced over his shoulder. “That’s how I like my food-poisoning victims. Happy and clueless.”

  “I’m beginning to suspect you’re a pretty good cook.”

  “Self-defense. Most women I’ve met wouldn’t be caught dead in a kitchen, and I like home cooking.”

  “And you thought I’d be different when I offered to make dinner on our second date. Sorry, Daniel. I hope that wasn’t part of the appeal.”

  Dishing up a plate of bacon, eggs and buttered English muffins, he walked over and set it in front of her.

  “Looks wonderful, Daniel.”

  He placed both hands on the table and brought his face close to hers. “For the record, your appeal had zero to do with your abilities in the kitchen.”

  “You just wanted to get me into bed.”

  He grinned at her. “Yep.”

  “A purely physical thing.”

  “Yep. And you were the same, Rosie. Admit it.”

  “I admit it.” She cradled his face in both her hands and thought about her original intention to ask Daniel to father her child. Not their child, but her child. What a ridiculous idea. She considered confessing that stupid intention now, but she hesitated. He might laugh, but then again... The proposal sounded so crass in comparison to the wonder of what they’d found together, that she hated to risk injecting a sour note into the blissful harmony they’d created.

  “And the physical part has been wonderful,” she said. “But now...”

  “It goes a little deeper than that,” he murmured.

  She gazed into his eyes. “Yes, it does.”

  He leaned closer to feather a kiss against her lips. “We should probably talk about that today.” He pushed back from the table. “But let’s eat this breakfast before it gets cold.”

  Yes, today, she thought. They’d plan their future and consider their options, meanwhile taking time out to make glorious love to each other. Smiling to herself, she unfolded her napkin and laid it in her lap. “I feel positively decadent, eating breakfast at nearly eleven in the morning.”

  “That’s your fault.” Daniel came over with his own plate of food and sat across from her at the small table. He took a forkful of eggs and paused with it in midair. “You weren’t serious about the handcuff thing, were you?”

  She laughed. “You really are worried that I’m the kinky type, aren’t you?”

  “No.” He paused. “Well, maybe. When you get right down to it, there are lots of things we don’t know about each other.”

  “It’ll be fun finding out, then, won’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he said warily, “as long as what we find out doesn’t involve a cat-o’-nine-tails.”

  “Oh, Daniel,” she said, still chuckling. “I think regular sex with you is going to be plenty exciting without getting into whips and chains.”

  He sighed with relief. “So you were kidding about the handcuffs.”

  “Yes.” She chewed and swallowed a bite of food. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” He sounded nervous again.

  “I’ve never known a man who owned handcuffs before.” She winked. “We could, like, fool around with them.”

  He gazed at her, the light of arousal growing in his eyes. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “You have that innocent look about you, but underneath, there’s always a suggestion of...”

  “Sin?”

  “I suppose that’s it. We have this perfectly good breakfast in front of us, and until two minutes ago I was starving. Now all I can think about is dragging you back into the bedroom.”

  “With handcuffs?”

  “Yes, dammit! Probably with handcuffs, or a facsimile since I didn’t bring any. You�
��re turning me into an animal.”

  She smiled at him. “I have great material to work with.”

  He put down his fork and pushed back from the table. “I guess breakfast will be cold.”

  “I guess it will.” She started to leave the table but paused in midmotion and cocked her head to listen. “That siren seems to be coming closer.”

  “I heard it, too. Probably old Tim running down another felon doing five miles over the limit. Right now I’m not much interested in old Tim’s doings.” He stood, his arousal evident from the bulge in his jeans. “Come with me, Rosie Kingsford.”

  She put her hand in his. “Daniel, that siren’s really close.”

  “Must be on the road that goes past your lane. I—”

  Frantic honking added itself to the increasingly loud whine of the siren. Both sounds filled the little kitchen.

  Rose and Daniel stared at each other. Then, hand in hand, they walked into the living room and gazed out the window as a green Pontiac wheeled into the drive, followed by a squad car, lights flashing and siren wailing.

  “Dear God,” Daniel muttered.

  “Do you know who it is?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He cringed as the Pontiac clipped his car’s rear fender with a sickening thud before jerking to a stop in the mud next to the driveway. “It’s my mother.”

  13

  ROSE STARED at the Pontiac with growing horror as the passenger door opened. “And my mother,” she said

  “Escorted to our doorstep by my old buddy Tim,” Daniel added, heading toward the door. “My God. She could have killed herself, not to mention your mother and a cast of thousands.”

  Rose followed him. “I didn’t know your mother could drive.”

  “She can’t.” He wrenched open the door. “If you noticed, she hit my car.”

  “I did notice.” She followed him out the door.

  Daniel started down the walkway. “She always did have a hard time figuring out which was the brake and which was the gas.”

  “This can’t be real.” Rose pinched her arm, hoping she’d wake up from this nightmare.

  “Look on the bright side,” Daniel said over his shoulder. “Tim will probably arrest them.”

  “Daniel!” She hurried after him. “We can’t let Tim arrest our mothers.”

  “We might not have a choice. I hate to think of what your pretty little town looks like after my mother cut through it in that big Pontiac. I—” Daniel came to such an abrupt halt that Rose bumped into him. He spoke in a low, tense voice. “Will you look at that? He’s putting his ticket book away. My mother talked him out of a ticket.” He started forward again. “I think I’ll have a conversation with my bro Timmy.”

  Rose caught his arm. “You’re going to ask him to give your mother a ticket?” she whispered.

  “Hell, no. I’m going to protest mine!”

  “Wait, Daniel.” She kept her voice low. “We have bigger problems than your ticket. Let’s act friendly, as if we’re so glad to see our mothers, so glad to see Tim again.”

  “I’m supposed to be glad that my mother risked her life and Bridget’s, smashed the fender of my car and corrupted a fine officer of the law?”

  She decided not to point out that he’d tried to corrupt that same fine officer. “We won’t get anywhere if we start yelling.”

  “I want to yell,” he grumbled.

  “Well, don’t. Not until we find out what our mothers are up to.”

  “Just for you, Rosie.”

  “Thanks. Let me go first.” Rose started down the driveway. “Mom! Mrs. O’Malley! How nice to see you.” She wasn’t encouraged by the frosty expressions that greeted her. “And good to see you again so soon, Tim.”

  “Just thought I’d escort these two ladies to their destination,” Tim said.

  Daniel stepped up beside Rose. “Sure gave them the royal treatment, using the lights and sirens and all. That’s not what you usually see in your typical police escort, Tim.”

  Tim had the good grace to blush. “Well, actually, I did sort of want them to pull over, but I guess they weren’t ready to do that.”

  Daniel’s eyes widened as he turned to his mother. “You tried to outrun this patrol car?”

  Maureen had a devilish gleam in her eye. “No trying about it. I did it. Patrick always did love that big V-8.”

  Daniel’s expression darkened. “Mom, I ought to—”

  Rose nudged him in the ribs.

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Daniel,” Maureen said briskly. “I straightened it all out. You see, without your father, Officer Tim wouldn’t even be here.”

  Bridget swatted her arm. “Don’t say it like that, Maureen. It sounds like Patrick was fooling around with Officer Tim’s mother.”

  “My Patrick? Never! What happened was Patrick took a bullet for Tim’s father, before little Tim was even thought of. I just told Tim the whole story, so naturally he can’t give a ticket to Patrick O’Malley’s widow.”

  “What about Patrick O’Malley’s son, Officer Tim?” Daniel asked, turning toward the patrolman. “You gave me a ticket, in case it’s slipped your mind.”

  “I didn’t know about the bullet thing then. I knew somebody had saved my dad’s life a long time ago, but I didn’t remember who it was.” He brightened. “And now I do.”

  “And now that you do,” Daniel said carefully, “what about my ticket?”

  “Sorry, bro. I turned it in already. Now, if you want to come to traffic court, maybe we can work something out.”

  Daniel sighed. “Never mind. I guess the county can use the money.”

  “Which reminds me, old buddy. Your mom said you’d take care of the damage.”

  “You mean to my car?”

  “No, it’s the town welcome sign, with the population figure on it, and the founding date and all. I should say, it was the town welcome sign. Now it’s pretty much firewood.”

  Daniel winced. “Anything else?”

  “A couple of those whiskey-barrel planters that sit on the sidewalk along Main Street.”

  “They drove on the sidewalk?”

  “Bridget distracted me. Yelling like a banshee, she was.”

  “Because you were headed straight for that bronze statue!”

  “The damage shouldn’t be much,” Tim interjected quickly. “There weren’t flowers planted in the barrels yet, and we were going to take that parking meter out anyway. And Mr. Webster may be old, but he hopped out of the way real fast. The sign’s the main thing, but I’m sure you have insurance.”

  “Nope.” Daniel leveled a scorching look at his mother. “Nobody expected that car to be on the road. Or the sidewalk.”

  Rose stepped forward. “I’ll pay for a new sign.”

  “Oh, no, you won’t.” Daniel gave her a warning glance.

  “It’s my mother.”

  “But, Daniel,” Rose said, “that could be a very expensive item. I think you should—”

  “I think you should just let it be,” Daniel said quietly. She heard the steel underlying his quiet statement and knew it was time to back off. This was one of their sore points, and now, of all times, they needed to stand together. “Okay.”

  “Get an estimate for a new sign,” Daniel said to Tim. “I’ll contact you soon.”

  “That’s fine.” Tim started backing toward his patrol car. “See you later, then.” He seemed eager to leave.

  Once the police car had pulled away, Daniel turned toward his mother. “What in hell were you thinking? You could have been killed!”

  Rose knew his temper was past restraining and didn’t attempt to stop the tirade that was sure to come.

  “She almost killed us both!” Bridget said. “I was blessing myself so often I gave myself tendinitis!”

  “I’m not surprised,” Daniel said. “What do you have to say for yourself, Mom?”

  Maureen’s expression was unrepentant. “No grandchild of mine is going to be a bastard. Not while there’s still breath in m
y body.”

  Rose’s stomach felt as if she’d just jumped from a ten-story building. She gave her mother a panicked look and then she knew for sure. Bridget had sold her out.

  Daniel stared at Maureen. “What in God’s name are you talking about?”

  “I wouldn’t have believed you’d agree to doing such a sinful thing, Daniel Patrick O’Malley, but after I found out you lied about where you’d be this weekend, then I wasn’t certain about anything anymore. This shameless woman just might have talked you into it.”

  Bridget grabbed Maureen’s arm. “Don’t you call my daughter shameless! You’re the shameless one, running around looking for a wife for your rascal of a son.”

  “Hey!” Daniel said.

  Maureen ignored him. “I thought she was a fine Irish girl!”

  “She is!”

  “She’s little more than a—”

  Whap. Bridget’s roundhouse connected with Maureen’s cheek and she stumbled backward.

  “Mom!” Rose cried, starting toward her mother.

  “ ’Tis another donnybrook you want, is it?” Arms flailing, Maureen headed back toward Bridget.

  Daniel caught her before she made contact, and Rose grabbed Bridget.

  Whatever hope Rose had that the whole incident could be smoothed over ended as Maureen turned to her son.

  “So, have you agreed to give Rose the child she wants, without marrying her, then?”

  Daniel’s jaw clenched. “Look, that’s enough. I have no idea what you’re talking about, and you’re doing nothing to help the—”

  “Oh, so she didn’t tell you her scheme, then? Never mind. Bridget was good enough to tell me. Rose doesn’t want a husband, Daniel, but she does want a wee babe. You’re chosen to be the father, whether she notified you of the fact or not.”

  “I don’t believe you. Rose wouldn’t want an arrangement like that.”

  Rose’s heart broke.

  “Ask her,” Maureen prompted.

  Daniel released his mother. Then he glanced at Rose, his expression confused. “She’s got this all wrong, I know, but—”

  “Not exactly all wrong,” Rose said, her gaze pleading for understanding. “At one time I was looking for a man to father a child, although I didn’t intend to marry him, or anyone, for that matter. I didn’t want to go to a sperm bank and take my chances that the donor wouldn’t be the sort I wanted, so I was looking for someone who would—” Her courage failed her.