All That Glitters Page 9

  “This is fun.”

  Phoebe looked up from the table, straight into the eyes of Deena. Mac wasn’t with her. “We do a different project every year, and we always have a good time bringing it together.”

  “And you do it for the sole reason of helping others?”

  That was an odd question. “Yes.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Thank you for bringing the tablets.” Phoebe fought for the words, but her soul felt better for them.

  “My pleasure.” Deena dropped a lotion in the bag. “Can I be honest?”

  “Sure.”

  “It started out as a publicity stunt, but I’m not upset it didn’t work out that way.” She stopped working and looked up. “I’ve never experienced being a part of an event like this, and it feels good to help. It takes off the pressure.”

  “We’re happy to have you helping us.” What else could she say? She felt sorry for Deena—she couldn’t imagine living in a world where every kind gesture had an ulterior motive. Strangely, that epiphany softened her attitude toward Deena. “We’re delivering them tomorrow night, and the youth are performing a live nativity for the residents. Maybe you could join us?”

  “I have to be on-set.” Genuine disappointment filled her voice. “There is a small chance we’ll wrap up earlier in the day. If we do, I’ll be there.”

  “Are you staying for dinner tonight?”

  “I can’t. I had to sweet talk Stanley into rearranging tonight’s schedule, so I could be here for this.” She reached into her pocket and glanced at her phone. “That’s him now. Could you be a dear and finish this one for me?”

  And…the Deena she’d come to know was back.

  “Sure thing,” she muttered, taking the bag Deena left on the table.

  Once all one hundred bags were assembled, the men rearranged the tables back in their normal rows. Phoebe went into the kitchen and helped Marley set up the pasta bar they’d planned for dinner.

  She set pots of al dente spaghetti noodles, fettuccine, rotini, and tortellini on trivets, then a line of bowls with marinara, alfredo, arrabbiata, and clarified butter on the counter. Marley prepared the mix-ins, bringing over bowls of meatballs, grilled chicken, Italian sausage, pepperoni, parmesan cheese, and grilled vegetables. A gigantic bowl of garden salad sat at the end with an assortment of salad dressings and a tray of garlic bread.

  Once they finished laying out the spread, she took a step back to observe the spread. “We have enough for an army.”

  Marley grinned. “The Lord’s Army.”

  Bursting into laughter, Phoebe covered her mouth and then snorted. “That’s one of the oldest church jokes in the book.”

  “Still made you laugh.” Marley grabbed a stack of disposable bowls and plates and set them at the beginning of the food line.

  Phoebe shook her head and then called the group over. Kyle blessed their food, and the hungry crew dug in. She saw Mac come through the food line alone. Not by himself—he talked to friends—but without Deena. Even though Deena had told her she couldn’t stay for dinner due to legitimate plans, Phoebe couldn’t resist the satisfaction of seeing Mac without the star at his side.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mac sat at the desk in his bedroom grading tests—the same desk where he’d studied and done his homework at in high school. He needed more space to work, but Mom had the kitchen table full of Christmas cookie ingredients in preparation for a baking spree with Tamera.

  “Do you have a few minutes?”

  He looked up and saw his mom standing at the door. “Sure, what’s up?”

  She came into the room and sat on the edge of his bed. “I appreciate the sacrifice you made by moving home and helping me out with your dad.”

  “It wasn’t a sacrifice. That’s what family is for.”

  “Even so, I know it wasn’t easy and put a strain on your schedule.”

  He laid down his red pen. “It’s fine, Mom. Really. I didn’t mind.”

  “Your dad is doing very well, and his doctors are pleased with his recovery.” Her relief was evident in her tone. “He doesn’t require much help anymore, and his appointments are slowing down now.”

  A but hid in behind her statement. “What are you saying?”

  “You’re free to move on. At twenty-eight, you should be living your own life unhampered by taking care of your parents.”

  “My life is full.” How could he make her see it hadn’t been an imposition? “I work, have a social life, even a love life.” Kind of.

  “We’ll get back to the love life because I have a few things to say about that. First, I want you to know you can move out. I’m not saying you have to, but don’t feel obligated to stay.”

  He approached the next question with careful deliberation. “How will you afford the mortgage?”

  “That’s not your worry.” She laid a soft palm on his cheek. “Dad’s temporary disability finally got approved, and they’ll backdate it to his stroke. We’ll make it work.”

  The disappointment flowing through his veins surprised him. He knew, as an adult, he had a life to live outside of his parents’ home, but he didn’t want to leave. Not because he couldn’t separate from his mom and dad, but because he’d learned to cherish them.

  “Why don’t I stay until Christmas, and after the New Year, I’ll start searching.”

  “Perfect.” Mom lowered her hand. “I hate for you to leave, but I’d be selfish to keep you here. Plus, your dad needs his independence. He said he’s being smothered.”

  Mac arched a brow. “We or you?”

  She let out a sigh then smiled. “Me.”

  “Only because you love him.”

  “I do.” Several tears glistened in her eyes. “If he hadn’t made it, I don’t know what I would have done. He’s my rock, my best friend.”

  “Dad’s never been a man of many words, but I see the way he looks at you when you’re not watching.”

  “That leads me to the next thing I want to speak with you about.” Mom crossed her hands on her lap. “I promised myself I’d stay out of it, but you’re my son, and I want the best for you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Deena.”

  “What about her?” His insides cringed. Everyone close to him seemed to be against a relationship with her.

  “Do you see a future with her?”

  He scratched his brow. “I don’t know. How could I possibly know so soon?”

  “You might not, but chances are you already know if she’s not the one.”

  “I get the feeling you don’t care for her.” His defenses rose, but he kept them at bay.

  “Deena is a lovely lady, but I have concerns about her as a girlfriend for you.” The corners of Mom’s mouth tugged downward.

  “Such as?” He had suspicions of where this conversation was leading, but he wanted to hear it from his mom, since he highly respected her opinion.

  “The biggest one is that she’s admitted she doesn’t have a relationship with Christ.” She slicked her tongue over her lips. “You’ve always had a picture in mind of the woman you’d like to marry, and while that’s likely to change over time, this particular quality should be non-negotiable.”

  “Dad wasn’t a Christian when you married him.” The words were still on his tongue, and he regretted them. He knew better, and his mother was right.

  Hurt and disappointment etched into her face. “That’s true, but believe me, those early years weren’t easy. Only by God’s grace and mercy did your father come to Christ. Our marriage was blessed, but it’s not that way for all couples.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Promise me you’ll give it some thought.”

  “Promise.” Mac shifted in his desk chair. “You said concerns, as in plural. What are the others?”

  “Thanksgiving for example.” She held out a hand to stop his defense. “I’ve heard your explanation, but that doesn’t make her actions right. A re
lationship requires respect of both parties, and she lacks that. I don’t even begrudge her making the decision to go home, but she should have handled it better.”

  “That’s how the younger generation communicates these days—electronically.”

  Her mom stare surfaced. “You’re only two years older than Deena, and your manners are nothing like hers. You call, ask opinions, show consideration, none of which I’ve seen from Deena.”

  “Anything else?” He almost hated to ask.

  Mom pursed her lips. “I can’t put my finger on it, but this entire setup feels off. You’re my son, and you’re a great catch, but don’t you think it’s weird how quickly she latched on to you?”

  He made a popping sound with his tongue. “My ego thanks you for keeping it in check.”

  “I’m sorry, but if your mother can’t be honest with you, who can?”

  “Phoebe,” he muttered under his breath.

  She perked up. “Oh? What does Phoebe have to say about this?”

  “Remember that night I got snowed in at the Graffs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Phoebe was stranded, too, and it happened to be the same day TEW broke the gossip about Deena and me.” He’d avoided Phoebe since, for reasons he didn’t want to admit.

  “Did something happen between the two of you?”

  He hated to dim his mother’s hopes. “We had a disagreement. She’s not a fan of Deena and thinks something is up.”

  “I’ve always known she has a good head on her shoulders.” Mom smiled. “I’ll never understand why you and Phoebe have never dated. You’re perfect for each other.”

  “We’ve been through this. Phoebe and I are friends.”

  Mom shook her head. “I’m not convinced.”

  “It’s the truth.” He raised his shoulders and let them fall. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “If you say so.”

  He checked his watch. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to go.”

  “Date with Deena?” Although he could tell she tried to mask her displeasure, it came through loud and clear.

  “Yes. We’re going to a small restaurant up in the mountains.”

  “Sounds lovely. Enjoy.”

  “Thanks.” He stood and kissed his mom’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

  Running late, he rushed out the door and to his truck minutes later. He pulled into the driveway of the luxury cabin three minutes past their meeting time. He quirked a brow when he saw a limo sitting in the driveway. What did she have planned?

  He smoothed his shirt and suit coat before taking hold of the bouquet of red roses. His strides were long but slow as he strolled toward the cabin. Gage no longer met him at the door. Mac assumed he’d gained a measure of trust, which bolstered his ego.

  Deena greeted him, dressed in a satin emerald gown. Her eyes canvassed his appearance. “It’s not Armani, but it will do.”

  “Pardon me?” His chest constricted at the condescending remark.

  She patted his arm and batted her eyes. “I’m joking. You could pull off a five-dollar Cal-Mart shirt.”

  Several are hanging in my closet. He swallowed his pride. Maybe he was overreacting. “You’re beautiful. Green is a perfect color for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He handed her the dozen roses. “I thought of you when I saw these.”

  “How sweet.” She turned her head and called over her shoulder, “Come get these, Lynz, and put them in a vase for me.”

  Her response was underwhelming. Or had his mom gotten into his head and made him doubt her? He held out an arm. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes.” She wrapped her arm around his and leaned in close. “I took the liberty of renting a limo for the night.”

  “I’d prefer to drive.” He kept his shoulders squared, not wishing to clue her in to his increasing unease.

  “Don’t be silly.” Deena giggled. “That’s why I have a driver.”

  “But I’m taking you out. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to drive my dates to our destination.”

  Confusion lifted Deena’s brows. “I can’t have you drive the limo and look like my chauffeur.”

  “What’s wrong with my truck?”

  She stuttered. “It’s comfortable and all, but not it’s appropriate for an elegant evening out.”

  He laughed, realizing she ‘d made a joke. “Good one.”

  “What do you mean?” She angled her head and looked at him through squinted eyes.

  “You’re joking again, right?”

  Her eyes opened wide, and her mouth formed an O. “No. It’s nothing against your truck, but I have standards I’m expected to keep.”

  His cheeks burned as though she’d slapped him. Walk away now. He didn’t listen to the voice in his head. “We’ll take the limo. This time.”

  Distracted, he climbed into the limousine behind her and declined the offer of champagne. Deena rambled on about drama on the set, oblivious to his lack of response. Her self-absorbed chatter suited him fine, but he wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

  He’d denied it, made excuses, and even justified her behavior, but he couldn’t continue this charade of a relationship. This time, it wasn’t his mom getting into his head or the power of suggestion from Phoebe.

  With his eyes wide open, Mac saw Deena for who she was—a woman with many good qualities, but one who had a lot of maturing to do. Their lives were vastly different, and they simply weren’t compatible.

  More so, dating Deena hadn’t distracted him one bit from his feelings for Phoebe. If anything, they’d grown stronger because Deena’s personality highlighted all the reasons he was attracted to Phoebe. He’d avoided Phoebe, not because he was mad, but because he knew he couldn’t hide his feelings much longer.

  The limo pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and stopped in front of the entrance. The chauffeur opened the door, but Mac instructed him to close it.

  Deena’s arched eyebrows indicated her bewilderment mixed with disapproval. “What’s going on?”

  “I can’t do this, Deena. This isn’t working.”

  “What isn’t working?”

  “Us.”

  Her face transformed into taut jaws, thin lips, and angry eyes. “You came to this conclusion between the cabin and here?”

  “I think it’s been coming for a few weeks, but I ignored it.”

  Irritation darkened her eyes. “We’ve only been seeing each other a few weeks.”

  He bit the inside of his cheek before responding. “I’m sorry. We agreed to see where it would lead, but I can’t see this going further.”

  “We’re done here.” She jutted her chin, and her neck muscles tightened until a vein popped out. “Get out.”

  “I think it’s best if we return to your cabin, and I go home.”

  She spoke through clenched teeth. “Get out. You can find your own way home.”

  He nodded once, very slowly, then exited the limo. Her behavior, though it confirmed his decision, caught him off guard. Breakups could be ugly, but he’d never dreamt this one would be. They’d never been that serious.

  The chauffeur and valet stared at him, waiting for direction.

  “Take her home. I’ll enjoy a meal and go home later.” After paying a fortune for a taxi to come this way.

  He watched the limousine drive away. Standing in the cold, he wondered why he didn’t feel any sadness or guilt about ending the relationship. One answer surfaced repeatedly—he’d done the right thing.

  Cold air began to seep into his bones. He went inside and asked the hostess to show him to his table. Why not eat since he was already here? Jasper Inn had the best prime rib east of the Mississippi, and he planned to enjoy it, even if it meant eating alone.

  Unfortunately, he’d requested a romantic table when he’d made the reservation. The hostess sat him to the left of the fireplace, with a view out the window of mountain magic—what he called the twilight hours when stars first appeared in a sky st
riped with deep hues of terracotta and indigo, and the moon peeked out to tease its reflection against the lake.

  The longer he sat, the more the awkwardness of eating alone faded away. The crackling of the fire calmed him, and the view put him at peace as he watched the final remnants of sunlight fade. He ate his salad and changed his mind about the crab-stuffed pretzel he’d ordered as an appetizer. When his waiter came to check on him, he asked the young man to box the pretzel and keep it warm until he left.

  He needed to save room in his stomach for his prime rib because he planned to eat every bite. When it arrived, he wasn’t disappointed. The large portion required his baked potato to be served on a separate dish. Perfectly crusted edges surrounded the aged meat, promising tenderness with every bite.

  Halfway through his meal, he had to stop. His stomach couldn’t hold anymore. He reached for his phone but laid it aside when he saw five from Deena. He’d read them later—why ruin his dinner with what would probably be more rants and ugly words.

  “Mac?”

  His head jerked up, surprised at the sound of Trixie Brewer’s voice. “Hey, how are you?”

  “Fabulous.” Her smile stretched from ear to ear. “Have you heard I’m going to be an aunt?”

  “No, I haven’t. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. We’ve all suspected for weeks that Jessa’s pregnant, but she made it official today.” She nodded her head in the direction of a second dining room. “The whole family is here celebrating.”

  “Phoebe too?” He silently groaned, realizing his mistake.

  “She is.” Trixie’s eyes gleamed. “You’re here alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.”

  A smile formed involuntarily. “To quench your insatiable curiosity, Deena and I are no longer seeing each other.”

  “As of when?” She seemed a bit wary.

  He glanced at his watch. “About an hour ago.”

  “Wow.” She helped herself to the empty chair at his table. “Do you mind if I asked what happened?”