By two o’clock, tired of making small talk and shaking hands, Meredith leaned against the edge of the old table in the staff room, enjoying a piece of spinach-artichoke quiche, not having eaten anything else all day but a bowl of cereal at four this morning.

“You look like you could use a nap.” Steven slung a towel over his shoulder and stopped about five feet from her, hands clasped behind his back.

“I could. And that is exactly what I’m about to go do.” Though most of the staff had been off Friday or would be off tomorrow to make up for having to work this weekend, as the boss, Meredith didn’t have any such luxury. And with the mayor’s dinner to honor the top students from all the high schools coming up in a few weeks, as well as the Spring Debutante Cotillion the first weekend in May, followed by the library fund-raiser and three of the high schools’ proms at B-G properties after that, she’d be lucky to get a Saturday off to move before the summer wedding and event season hit full force. Of course, once Mom and Dad approved the new third event planner position and she officially promoted Corie, she might be able to get a little more time for things like Saturdays off and naps on Sunday afternoons.

“I think Jana and I can wrap things up if you’d like to go ahead and get out of here.” His eager blue eyes begged her to say yes.

“Since we don’t have anything scheduled here before week after next, it’s okay if not everything gets done this afternoon. We can always send facilities guys over to finish—put tables and chairs up or bring the steam tables back to downtown—sometime this week when we’re not having to pay them double time for working on a holiday.”

“We’ll take care of it.” He reached for her empty plate and coffee mug.

“Call me if—”

“We know. Call you if we need anything.” He swept his arm toward the door. “If you please.”

“You’ve been hanging around your boss too much.” But she obliged and departed.

No more than five minutes after she drove away, her phone’s hands-free earpiece beeped. With a sigh, she pressed the button on the side. “This is Meredith.”

“Mary Kate,” came Beverly O’Hara’s singsong voice.

“Hi, Beverly.” She had to laugh. Major’s mom had taken to calling her at the oddest times the past few days—usually when Meredith was at her most stressed and needed a reminder that her life wasn’t nearly as hard as it seemed at the moment. “What’s going on?”

“Can you come today?”

“You want me to come out and visit you today?” She pulled to a stop at a red light. Forbes had told her earlier that Major had spent most of the day yesterday at the center with his mother, and that he’d been pretty drained when Forbes picked him up last night. He must have told Beverly he didn’t plan to come today, and she was bored.

“Yes. For tea. Iced tea. Not hot tea. I don’t like hot tea. Do you know I burned my mouth on hot tea at a restaurant once? Major would never have served it that hot, because he knows that I don’t like hot things.”

Meredith stifled her laughter. Bless Beverly for keeping her entertained this stressful weekend. She wanted to go home and nap, but she wanted to get to know Major’s mom better, too. Still, a shower and a change of clothes were a necessity. “It will probably be around four o’clock before I could get there. Is that okay?”

“Four—today, right?”

“Four today—about two hours from now.”

“’Kay. See you at four.”

Chapter 30

Meredith opened her eyes and glanced at the clock—blinked away the bleariness and glanced again.

“Oh, mercy!” She scrambled up from her prone position on the sofa and darted to her bedroom. She’d only meant to close her eyes for a few minutes after her quick shower; she’d never meant to sleep for almost an hour and a half. Now she had less than ten minutes before she was supposed to be at Beausoleil Pointe Center for tea—iced tea—with Beverly.

At her closet, she let her hand rest wistfully for a moment on the stack of folded, soft, much-worn T-shirts—the ones that had been neglected for far too long in recent months. But this wasn’t a time to dress down. Beverly deserved more respect than that. Meredith exchanged her comfy robe for her best pair of trouser jeans, a sleeveless wine-colored shell, and a three-quarter sleeve, lightweight brown cardigan.

Lastly, she stepped into brown ballet flats before making a mad dash for the car. “Lord, please don’t let her have an episode because I’m fifteen or twenty minutes late.”

At 4:05, by the clock in the dashboard, her cell phone rang.

“Hello, Beverly. I am on my way out to see you right now.”

“You’re still coming?”

Meredith wasn’t familiar enough with Beverly yet to know if her tone carried panic or excitement. “I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

“’Kay.” The click and silence that followed were apparently the hallmark ending of a phone conversation with Beverly O’Hara.

When she arrived at the center, she had to park at the back end of the parking lot. No doubt most of the residents received regular visits from their families on Sundays. Would she ever become part of Beverly’s family?

She shook off the thought. Plenty of time to deal with Major later.

Cool air whooshed out the sliding front doors. Meredith started the stairs two at a time but slowed her pace halfway up when she got winded. She really needed to start exercising again.

She took two wrong turns but eventually found Beverly’s room. She knocked. And waited. Odd. She knocked again. No answer.

Returning to the lobby, she approached what looked like a concierge station. The young lady behind the high counter—whose name tag included the initials R.N. after her name—smiled up at her. “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Beverly O’Hara, but she’s not answering her door.”

“Is she expecting you?”

Meredith nodded. “I just talked to her on the phone about ten minutes ago.”

“You’re looking for Beverly?” Another nurse approached the desk.

“Yes. I’m supposed to be having tea with her.” Saying it renewed Meredith’s amusement at how Beverly had described it.

“I think I saw her go out onto the back terrace. If you go down those stairs there”—she pointed to a door with an illuminated Exit sign over it—“you’ll come out right by the back doors.”

“Thanks.” Meredith entered the stairwell and stopped just beyond the door at the bottom to get her bearings. She was in a hallway that looked very much like the one above, except to her right was a large glass door leading onto a patio.

Two women who looked about Beverly’s age stood just inside the door. Meredith smiled at them, and they giggled, putting their heads together and whispering as she passed.

Outside, she slid her sunglasses down from the top of her head and looked around. The large flagstone paved area looked like an outdoor café, and most of the tables were filled with residents and their family members—most still dressed in their Easter Sunday finery.

But she didn’t see Beverly anywhere. She was just about to head inside when she heard someone calling, “Excuse me, excuse me, are you Mary Kate?”

“I’m—yes, I’m Mary Kate.” At least she hoped in this instance she was.

The elderly lady grinned, showing dentures that looked too big for her mouth. “Come this way. Beverly is waiting for you.”

“Oh.” Meredith released a relieved breath. “Good.”

The woman took Meredith’s hand and practically dragged her through the maze of tables and down a little path leading away from the main patio. Behind a large magnolia tree, they came upon a second patio—much smaller, covered with a wood pergola. It had only two tables, at one of which sat Beverly ... and Major.

Meredith’s heart pounded. She hadn’t seen or spoken with him since Thursday, that awful morning. She sent up one last prayer that he hadn’t really meant most of the hurtful things he’d said to her.

Beverly looked up, and a smile transformed her face from gaunt to angelic. “Mary Kate.”

* * *

Major whipped his head around. Had Ma truly lost it this time?

But instead of the fictitious Mary Kate Danaher from The Quiet Man, Meredith Guidry stood framed by the entrance to the gazebo, looking once again like an exquisite dish of chocolate and strawberries with the way her brown sweater brought out the red tones in her hair. He wished he could stand up, go to her, pull her into his arms, and beg her forgiveness for the way he’d spoken to her the other morning. But he couldn’t.

As she came around to greet his mother, Meredith touched his shoulder. Fleeting and light, the contact told him enough. She’d already forgiven him. But he still needed to say the words to her.

“I was just telling Danny yesterday how romantic I thought this place was. He was too scared to ask you to come, so I called you myself.”

Heat tweaked Major’s cheeks.

“I’m glad you did call, Beverly.”

His mother grabbed Meredith’s forearm and practically forced her into the chair next to him. “You two wait right there.” She skipped away with her friend.

Major stared after her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t heard her giggle like that in ... ever.” He summoned his courage to face Meredith again. “Since she met you, she’s been happier than I’ve seen her in more years than I care to remember.”

“I think she’s a wonderful person.”

“She is a wonderful person. And I’m...” He swallowed back years of following John Wayne’s character’s advice. “I’m sorry I never told you about her.”