"Oh," Roz declared. "I repeat, God. "
"You're beautiful and sexy," Hayley continued. "He's great looking and sexy. So, it seems to me that sex is . . . She really can't understand all this, right?" Biting her lip, she glanced at Lily, who was busy playing with her own fingers. "I read this theory on how babies absorb all the stimuli around them, including voices and words, and kind of file them away, and shoot, here we are. "
She gathered the diaper bag, then jumped out of the car in the rain. After jogging around, she opened the door to release Lily's harness and drape a blanket over her head. "Don't say anything interesting while I'm gone. I mean it. "
When she dashed off, Roz let out a long, heartfelt sigh. "Half the time that girl makes me feel old and creaky, and the other half she makes me feel about eighteen and grass green. "
"I know exactly what you mean. And I know it sounds like we're pushing and prying into your private life, but it's because, well, it's just because we love you, that's all. And added to it, we were wondering when you and Mitch might take things up a level. "
"Wondering, were you?"
Stella winced. "The subject might have come up in casual conversation. Once or twice. "
"Why don't I let you know when and if I'd like to have a casual conversation on the subject?"
"Sure. Absolutely. "
When Hayley ran back out, jerked open the door, Stella cleared her throat - loudly - and gave a quick shake of her head. As Hayley let out a
disgusted sigh, Stella pulled away from the side of the road and spoke brightly.
"So, I've been working on ideas for displaying the potting soil. "
HER LIFE DIDN'Tchange, Roz reminded herself, just because she'd gone to bed with a man she found attractive and appealing. Life went on, with its duties and obligations, its irritations and its pleasures.
As she headed for her garden club's monthly meeting, she wasn't sure which category her current destination landed in.
A Harper had been a member of the garden club since her grandmother's day. In fact, her grandmother had helped form it in 1928, and Harper House had held many of its early meetings.
As the owner of a garden center, she felt a double obligation to support the group and remain an active member. And there were some pleasures attached to it. She enjoyed talking with like-minded people about gardening and felt the club had worked hard to implement fund-raisers for beautification projects.
But then, there were plenty who just wanted to dress up, have lunch, and gossip.
She walked into the meeting room at the country club into that beehive hum of female voices. Square enameled pots exploding with forced narcissus sat festively on tables draped with spring-green linen. A podium stood in front of the room for the various committee chairs who'd give their reports or pitches.
She could only thank God she wasn't chairing anything currently.
When she stepped farther into the room, glances shot her way, and the hum of voices trailed off. And died.
Almost immediately they started up again, just a bit too loud, just a bit too bright. She let the cold shield slide over her, and continued to walk straight to a table.
"Aren't these flowers sweet. " She looked directly at Jan Forrester as if she couldn't hear the whispers under the forced chatter. "A nice reminder spring's just around the corner. How are you, Jan?"
"Oh, fine, Roz. I'm just fine, how about you?"
"Couldn't be better. How's Quill doing?"
She flushed, deep and rosy. "Oh, you know Quill. "
"I certainly do. You just give him my best, won't you?"
It was pride that had her walking the gauntlet, mingling with the crowd, speaking with more than a dozen people before she moved to the pots of coffee and tea. She opted for tea, cold, rather than her habitual coffee.
Her throat felt scalded.
"Roz, honey, don't you look fabulous. " Cissy sidled up, smelling of Obsession and smiling like a hungry cat. "I swear, nobody wears clothes like you do. What color would you call that suit?"
Roz glanced down at the trim jacket and pants. "I have no idea. "